The noon sun shimmered over the imperial garden, warm enough to turn the pond's surface to liquid gold.
Ananya sat under a magnolia tree, surrounded by threads, half-tangled yarn, and a scowling expression that could scare even brave generals.
Her hands were clumsy, fingers wrapped around a crochet hook that refused to cooperate.
"Why won't this stupid thing work?" she muttered, tugging at a loop that promptly unraveled the entire pattern.
Fen Yu floated beside her, upside down, giggling uncontrollably. "Maybe because you're making a bird's nest, not a scarf!"
Wei Rong snorted, arms crossed. "Even the palace cats wouldn't play with that thing."
Li Shen, ever calm, tilted his head. "Crochet is a craft of patience, not war. Perhaps try again with less… violence."
Ananya glared at all three of them. "Easy for you! You don't even have hands!"
Fen Yu burst into laughter so loud Ananya threw the crochet hook at her. It went right through, of course, hitting the nearby bush.
