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War Tiger held the cigarette between his fingers and smiled like he had expected her response. Instead of taking the weapons from her, he produced a folded light blue letter. “Make the decision after reading this.”
After some hesitation, Qing Ling took the letter and unfolded it.
It was penned with black ink, the handwriting neat and done with strong, sharp strokes, clearly written by someone with a calligraphy background.
Who would’ve thought that Wu Dahai, with such a dirty mind, would have such beautiful handwriting?
“Qing Ling, if you’re reading this, I must have died, and you’ve survived.”
“Congrats. Great fortune always follows a close call.”
“There’s something I’ve wanted to apologize...
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