"Hmph, how pretentious."
With a pinch of his fingertips, Su Guishan crushed the entire letter into powder, which fluttered down with the palm wind onto the sweet flag pot plant on the Bogu Frame.
A thin layer of white paper ash covered the moist, fresh black soil, quickly merging with the dampness and integrating into one.
Eyes turned toward him.
Liang Qu's face tightened, and he wisely chose to make his exit.
Clan disputes were something he couldn't afford to provoke.
The pond.
After days of cloudy rain, the weather was hot and stuffy.
The Old Black Turtle had gone to the Great Marsh to swim freely through the vast world, while Otter Kai struck a stance, practicing Pile Exercises in the rain with great effort.
Only the Big River Beaver sat squatting under the eaves, its paws propping its head, facing a pile of wooden blocks of various shapes with a frown and a worried expression.
The long fur on its head had even started to curl.
