For the past two days, Shen Ningning had been hard at work tilling the soil in her Immortal Realm.
Another crop of her Spirit Grass had sprouted.
Without a second thought, the little girl picked it, wrapped it up, and entrusted it to Chen Shaobei to be delivered to the palace.
After all, Mo Lingwei's old ailment could flare up at any moment.
Last time, it had taken a total of thirty stalks of Spirit Grass for him to get better.
Next time, she worried he might need even more.
But Shen Ningning was also troubled.
What if her brother, Xie Mingxu's, men returned just then, asking her for Spirit Grass to support the war effort on the border?
What would she do if she couldn't provide any?
She couldn't just tell the soldiers who had rushed back with an urgent dispatch to wait for the Spirit Grass to grow.
Shen Ningning squatted before the soil of the Immortal Realm.
She reached out a small hand and poked the soft earth.
