C91 Letter from the Celestial Sect!

Time was like a cicada in summer. At first, the cries were bright, but then they passed by like the wind.

Often, when one thought that it would call out to the heavens and the earth like it used to, it would silently die without leaving a trace. When you turn around and notice it, it's like a dream.

More than a month had passed since his mother's kitchen program started broadcasting