Xue Daoyong, such a heroic figure who had endured the chaos and swept across the Western Regions alone, felt his mind buzzing when he saw this line of words.
It was like when he was young, his martial skills were lacking, and he went to the Dangxiang Kingdom in the vast desert. He couldn't catch his breath and felt like he was lying on a donkey, unable to move. It took a while before he slowly regained his senses.
Xue Daoyong blinked and stared at the letter.
Then he rubbed his eyes and examined that line of words carefully.
He turned it over, looked at it sideways.
He felt that this short line of words was actually very long.
The more he looked, the more flavorful it was, the more mysterious it became. The old man grinned, his mouth almost stretching to his ears, muttering: "Grandmaster, how old is he today?"
Xue Shuangtao said: "He is seventeen years old."
Elder Xue glanced at his granddaughter and said: "Seventeen years old, Grandmaster realm."
