What If...I Remember?

Chapter 52

"They want the Divine Fungal Grass?" Ye Hua set his brush down, his usual cold expression back on his face as he gazed at Zi Lan calmly, and Zi Lan snorted in disbelief as well, "I don't know about the Zhao Ren Princess, but Xuan Nü most certainly doesn't sound like she could make the cut." "Su Jin is no fighter." Ye Hua answered, glancing down at the scroll of notes he had taken, before he glanced up at Zi Lan, "What's your opinion, then, if I were to ask you about what actions we should take?"

"Huh? Me?" Zi Lan was dumbfounded, before he quickly pulled himself together, so that he wouldn't embarrass himself, "I think we should send people to destroy the Divine Fungal Grass. So that they can't take it for their needs." "...and then let them come hunting to kill Qian Qian?" Ye Hua raised his eyebrows, a slight fury lining his features, and Zi Lan knew almost at once that he had said the wrong thing. "Forgive me, your Highness, that was a foolish idea of mine." Zi Lan bowed at once, and Ye Hua knew it had just been a slip of the mind. "Nevermind. Since destroying the Divine Fungal Grass is not a feasible plan, we just have to come up with a better idea."

"Such as?" Zi Lan couldn't help but ask, his curiosity getting a hold of him, but even the Crown Prince kept silent as he stared down at the notes he had been making, before he shook his head grimly.

"We'll find a way." Was what he said.

But for once, Ye Hua didn't have confidence in his own plan.

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"Here, A-Li, it needs a bit of work here."

Bai Qian's cheekbone was splattered with ink, but she took no notice as she guided her son's hand down the parchment. "The blade is fine, but the hilt is not." Bai Qian stared at the parchment, tilting her head sideways as she tried to figure out how to make it better, "Here. I think you'd best add a dragon engraving on the side of the blade too." "Will Father really like it?" A-Li stared at his drawing, not quite believing that Ye Hua would like it, although Bai Qian had been convincing him otherwise, and Bai Qian brushed her hair out from her face with ink-stained fingers, "Your father will love it, A-Li, so don't worry about it."

"But how will we make it?" A-Li was puzzled; Bai Qian had told him to make a more elaborate sketch, but she had not mentioned how the actual short sword would be formed. "We can give it to a mortal smith, if we don't want to make it by hand." Bai Qian sat down on the mat, levelling her height with A-Li, "Or we can, of course, make it by hand." "Do we have a forge?" A-Li asked curiously, wondering where they might be able to craft the sword if he really wanted to make it by hand, and Bai Qian gave her son a grin, "There's one here and one in Kun Lun that I know of."

"Then let's make it ourselves." A-Li chose the latter at once, eager to make his first sword, and Bai Qian smiled as she patted his head, "I'll go get the forge ready, then."

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"That's an intricate design, Gugu. Did you draw it?" Feng Jiu watched as Bai Qian stoked the flames of the forge, melting the metal in the furnace, and A-Li pouted as he crossed his arms, "I drew that, Sister Feng Jiu." "To be fair, he did draw that. But I helped him with a little of the decoration." Bai Qian answered, her eyes never once leaving the flames of the furnace, "Xiao Jiu, if Ye Hua comes seeking for us, pretend we went off somewhere else."

"Gufu shouldn't be done so fast. Last I saw, he was still in a discussion with High Immortal Zi Lan." Feng Jiu bit into an apple, the crunch of it echoing loudly in the small space of the forge, and Bai Qian finally tore her gaze away from the furnace, a thin layer of sweat giving a certain sheen to her skin, "Xiao Jiu, did you bring something else to eat?"