The watchman's hut fell into an eerie silence, as if the stillness solidified in the air—the old watchman even had a certain illusion, feeling as if the altar on the desk, the candle flame, the smoke from the incense, and the faint spiritual power permeating the air had all briefly stilled.
An illusion?
The old man looked up in confusion, noticing the candle flame dancing in his field of view, but it seemed to start flickering only the moment he looked up.
He stared at the pale flame for quite some time before slowly shaking his head, returning his gaze to the letter in front of him, with a sense of strangeness he had never felt before, he read the text on it.
But after only a few lines, he couldn't care less about the dissonance and awkwardness in his heart—the content of the letter was beginning to make him realize the gravity of the situation.