Father, when you see this letter of mine, my battle group and I should be standing outside the city of Old Tianjin, following His Highness Malin.
Our family, since heading south in the Great Destruction Era, until today, it's been nearly eight millennia and two centuries since we saw our homeland... We've long forgotten our native dialect, forgotten what our homeland looks like, even the cameras preserving the scenery of our homeland have long since been damaged over time.
Speaking of it, it's quite amusing, clearly our generations, for decades, were all born in the Zhenjiang-Nanjing metropolitan area, speaking Thanan Mandarin, and had long ceased to consider returning to our homeland as ancestral instruction. But truly, one day, when such a fate descends from heaven, I finally understand the sigh in the ancestors' diaries about our homeland.
...So this is the feeling of being near yet anxious about returning home.
