Jingzi quieted down for a moment before looking back with her black, limpid eyes sizing up Zhao Rong's expression; she tilted her head slightly.
Zhao Rong smiled, "It's just a humble opinion, but the soil of your Yilan Pavilion is indeed of high quality and very fertile, suitable for nurturing mountainous spiritual flowers and exotic grasses with ease. However, its aeration leaves much to be desired. While it might be acceptable in other seasons, in this dry autumn, the soil is... too suffocating."
Jingzi lowered her head to look at the wet black mud on the shovel and scratched her forehead.
"I understand that the little orchids need more air... I am familiar with the suffocating feeling of being buried in the soil, quite uncomfortable, hmm, but currently, we have the best soil we could find in the courtyard."
Zhao Rong nodded lightly, then shook his head gently.
Confusion spread across Jingzi's face; she bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, then turned and bowed.
