This letter has been written for many years.
But it has never been sent out.
Recipient.
Yue Qingwu.
"Qingwu..." Li Jingsong reached out his hand to caress the words "Yue Qingwu" on the envelope, a trace of tenderness in his eyes.
Yue Qingwu was Monarch Yuehan's sister and once the woman Li Jingsong loved the most.
He can still remember Yue Qingwu's every smile and frown, seeing her mouth curve up was the moment Li Jingsong felt most moved.
Once, he and Monarch Yuehan were archenemies, neither convinced by the other, two of the youngest Painting Saints, competing for who was the top genius.
And once, when he was competing with Monarch Yuehan again, he met her.
That smile captivated Li Jingsong directly.
Every time he and Monarch Yuehan painted outside, Yue Qingwu would quietly watch from the side, preparing tea and snacks for them.
"Li Jingsong, your painting is not as good as my brother's."
"My brother's artwork is the best in the world."
