If not for their strict upbringing, I'm afraid they would have already been shouting and hollering.
The short sword was forged from refined iron and, though not to the extent of cutting iron as if it were mud, was still a sharp weapon.
But now...
Someone was able to write on it with their hand.
The glimmers of cold light that flowed from the tips of that person's fingers were something they had only seen in their lives.
The siblings watched in fascination, losing track of time.
When the man in the green robe handed back the short sword, the little girl stood stunned for a few seconds before reaching out to take it.
"Pre... Predecessor..."
The boy didn't even look at the inscription on the sword but instead stared at the face of the man in the green robe.
Portraits...
The portraits in the ancestral hall had come to life!
His heart was beating faster than ever before, as if he were truly understanding the Jianghu for the first time.
