"Does Xuan'er know?" Lin Qingtian asked in confusion.
Lin Xuan nodded, "I know a little."
The paper used to write this letter was made of a material Lin Xuan had never seen before. It seemed to be light in his hand. Golden powder was scattered on the paper, and it looked a little luxurious.
It was as if a spiritual qi had come down from this letter. When he held it in his hand, there was a faint spiritual qi fluctuation. The energy was not huge, but it was very ingenious.
Lin Xuan was a little curious. He did not immediately open it and instead observed it carefully for a while.
Suddenly, he looked up and discovered that the ancestors in the meeting hall were looking at him with anticipation.
Seeing Lin Xuan raise his head, they immediately shifted their gazes away in all seriousness and pretended to talk to each other seriously. However, their gazes were always secretly looking at the letter in Lin Xuan's hand.
