Thus, while Zhou Xuan was writing the calligraphy, the Book Saint stood beside him, wielding his brush.
Moreover, Zhou Xuan and the Book Saint's figures, drawing closer and closer with the calligraphy's augmentation,
The closeness stirred an indescribable sense of tragic heroism within Zhou Xuan's heart,
He couldn't help but read aloud the content of the Sangluan Stele,
"Chaos to the extreme, first the grave and then separation, torment beyond recall, mourning decimated absolute…"
"Pain piercing heart and liver, what more pain can one bear!"
The sorrow in the stele, with Zhou Xuan's recitation, poured like a torrential rain, Yu Ruying, standing beside him, stood in the rain, unable to escape,
She immediately fell into grief.
"This stele, so profoundly sorrowful."
The sadness Yu Ruying felt was first stirred by the calligraphy's words—mourning decimation, pain piercing heart and liver.
"What kind of painful state must one be in to write such agonizing verses?"
