That night, Qiao Xing didn't rest. Instead, he opened Qiao Xiao Mi's letter.
The letter was short, and Qiao Xing read it slowly.
[During my recent trip to the amusement park, I encountered danger. But in my most perilous moment, the first person I thought of was Daddy.
My daddy is a hero; he's the best. That's something I've always firmly believed.
This time, I nearly didn't get to see him again. I was so scared! I'll definitely listen to Daddy from now on! —Qiao Xiao Mi]
After reading his daughter's letter, Qiao Xing silently retrieved a pale blue longsword from his room and began to wipe it down slowly.
The sword was called Cold Frost, a one-handed blade. For nearly ten years, Qiao Xing had never used such a light weapon.
He looked at the sword, his expression serene.
"Transcending the mundane world and re-entering it is not so easy."
He rose, went to his desk, and placed the sword on it. Then, he took out a pen and paper and began writing a reply to his daughter.
