"Dear old friend Qi Xiu, seeing this letter is like meeting you in person..."
On the yellow-brown letter paper spanning several pages, thousands of characters are written in a chaotic manner, one foot in heaven and one foot on earth.
Especially Hu Tianzong's family-secret "dog-crawling" handwriting, which made Qi Xiu, who started with calligraphy, furrow his eyebrows.
He couldn't help but imagine that when Hu Tianzong wrote this letter, he might have been squatting on a chair, clutching a brush, and randomly scribbling with ink.
"What is destined to come will eventually come. If the sentiments of the past can be repaid today, it will be the end of a certain karmic consequence.
For me, it's not necessarily a bad thing."
Softly murmuring, Qi Xiu lightly waved his right hand, and the letter paper in his hand suddenly ignited, transforming into wisps of ashes that scattered.
