Sheng Ye, the young monk, listened to someone's easy talk, his mouth opened, but ultimately he swallowed the words that had reached his lips.
He remembered his senior brother's instructions and silently handed over a letter.
Yi Chen, curious, opened the letter.
On the white paper, the handwriting was as fluid as dragons and snakes, settling like clouds and smoke.
"May every spring be uneventful, and may we meet as old friends!"
Gazing at the writing on the paper, Yi Chen seemed to see a handsome young monk in a temple, fiercely writing.
Shen Hui seemed to have said something, but also seemed to have said nothing; however, at this moment, Yi Chen had understood the meaning between the lines.
He chuckled lightly, "Little Sheng Ye, go back and tell your senior brother that this Taoist understands."
"Even if one day we truly face each other in battle, beneath the battlefield we shall remain old friends."