Bai Jingyun strolled along the courtyard, the gentle breeze carrying the fragrance of blossoming flowers. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she approached her friend, Murong Zi, who was lost in contemplation.
"Ah Zi," Bai Jingyun's voice broke Murong Zi's reverie. "Remember when you spoke about that medium-grade human-step sword for Junior Apprentice Brother Sam?"
Murong Zi's expression soured at the mention of it. "Hen Portia also seeks Sam's inscription symbol. The Marshal's Quarters likely holds a high-grade treasure sword. How could I, with my low-class broken sword, face them? Those stingy old men in my family are insufferable!"
Her discontent wafted through the air like a bitter aroma, drawing a chuckle from Bai Jingyun.