The clothes took a long time to make. Even for her, she had to stay in the system for over ten hours each day. If she got tired, she would nap for a while and then continue embroidering. As a result, it took her roughly ten days to finish the garment. She didn’t even dare to imagine how much longer it would take outside the system—dozens of days, a few months, or even longer.
After all, this kind of pure hand embroidery is inherently slow. Thinking back on it, those in later generations who embroidered cross-stitch, like the Qingming River Painting, would take five to six years to complete. And if she were to use the traditional double-sided embroidery technique, she really didn’t know how long it would take.
However, she did want to challenge herself with embroidering a Qingming River Painting that spanned several dozen meters.
The Qingming River Painting needed to be replicated, but fortunately, the system forced her to learn line drawing, contour drawing, and Chinese painting. Otherwise, she really couldn’t have managed it. She didn’t think her drawings were exceptional, but at the very least, they were undoubtedly not better than her calligraphy.
She was not all-capable. The system might want to cultivate her into a famous calligrapher and painter, but she wasn’t interested in that path. While she had a modest understanding of calligraphy, when it came to painting, she truly had no talent. However, her copying skills were decent and her embroidery was tolerable.
Although not the best, she was diligent and hardworking.
She believed in the proverb "the early bird catches the worm" and that hard work could compensate for lack of natural ability. If she wasn’t smart enough, she would make up for it with time. What did she lack now if not for time? One year for her was equivalent to ten years for others. Wasn’t that enough?
After completing the clothes, the system once again cued the recycling sound: a hundred gold coins. Qin Xiangnuan sighed. Why was it that things she wanted to sell couldn’t fetch a good price, while the things she didn’t want to buy were so valuable? Sometimes the system really knew how to play with people.
She packed up the clothes and shoes and found a rather upscale gift bag.
She continued to steadfastly set up her stall in the park every day. For several months, she was there daily, even when it was pouring rain. She would still go because, rain or shine, those commuters wouldn’t stop. They wanted to eat her pastries, so even if people like Mr. Sun weren’t there for morning exercises, she would still make at least 20 yuan since many would prefer not to buy groceries themselves, often taking breakfast and dinner from her stall.
She remembered the hurried Uncle Zhui Feng on a rainy day, running over to her stall. His eyes were particularly bright at that moment, and the words, "Thank you for setting up your stall even in this weather," truly gave her an indescribable warmth.
In this life, she didn’t intend to be a goody-two-shoes or pushover, but she did enjoy being someone who made money by being good.
"Grandpa Sun, this is for you," she handed the clothes she had made to Mr. Sun, "I know Grandpa Sun’s birthday is coming up soon, and I don’t have much to give you. This is a garment I made myself, to add a bit of warmth for you."
Mr. Sun accepted it and opened the bag to look. Instantly, his face bloomed into a joyous chrysanthemum. "Thank you, young lady. Grandpa really loves it," he said, recognizing the quality at first glance. He couldn’t wait to go home and try it on.
And he left cheerfully, carrying the bag as if he had the wind at his back.
"The chief is well," greeted the guard at the gate with a military salute.
"Mm, hello, hello. Young man, you’re quite sharp," Mr. Sun replied with a smile, making the guard quite pleasantly surprised. The old chief seemed to be in a good mood today, not scolding anyone. One must know that this old chief is usually a very stern figure, even though he’s retired. If he got angry, it could be quite intimidating.