In the early autumn of the third year of Tianfeng, it arrived earlier than in previous years.
This was the conclusion You Jinhua came to after noticing the flowers and plants she tended were wilting.
Morning.
In the inner courtyard of the Zhao family, Zhao Paner had just stepped into the dining room with her beloved dog when she saw You Jinhua clutching a letter, absorbed in its contents.
"Mother?" Zhao Pan called out in confusion, seeing the beautiful woman lift her delicate head and cheerfully say, "Your elder brother sent a letter home from the front lines. It just arrived this morning."
"A letter from elder brother?!" The increasingly charming Zhao Pan's eyes lit up as her feet in "cotton slippers" padded forward, she dashed over, grabbed the letter, and her girlish figure settled onto a round stool. Her eyes immersed in the words, unable to pull away.
