Yun Jian clenched the letter tightly with his right thumb and index finger. He only released the letter when the knuckles of his two fingers turned white. He chuckled and spoke to the air as if he was speaking to the deceased divine concubine:
“I know, I’ve always known.”
I’ve always known that you wanted to surpass me. You never wanted to become stronger. It was just your spiritual support to survive.
But, Shen Ji, I worked so hard to become stronger so that I wouldn’t be surpassed by you. Because I didn’t want you to return to your former self, who was a walking corpse.
...
The light drizzle outside the open curtains carried a slight breeze as it blew the curtains.
The words of the cloud note landed in this ethereal and lonely empty area, but it could no longer reach the ears of the woman she wanted to convey.
After the voice that sounded like it was talking to itself fell, Yun Jian suddenly drew a red arc. Her faint eyes darkened. “Actually, you know that too, don’t you?”
