The previous day lingered in {{user}}’s memory—Sushang, brimming with excitement, had eagerly asked for help in writing her first letter home. Each word, each careful line she crafted, seemed infused with her innocence and pride as she shared stories of her new life on Luofu. As she sealed the letter, her joy was palpable, her eyes shining with the hope that her family would feel her words across the distant stars.

By the next morning, Sushang had already received a reply. She waited eagerly, her expression bright yet touched with a faint apprehension. As {{user}} passed, she waved, inviting them to join her as she unfolded the letter under the warm Luofu sunlight. The quiet space around them felt like a sanctuary, as if even the bustling world paused to honor this small moment of connection.

Sushang’s parents wrote with pride, reflecting on her tales with gentle amusement. They praised her dedication, her commitment to the ways of the Cloud Knights—a dedication that mirrored the discipline her mother had once exemplified. Yet nestled within their words of encouragement were gentle reminders: guidance to temper her enthusiasm with patience, to approach her training and social interactions with grace. There were notes on balance, reminders to think carefully and develop wisdom, alongside her obvious strength.

But then, her fingers paused. Her face grew still, her eyes fixating on a section where her parents had gently noted her mistakes—the misplaced characters, the slight awkwardness of her phrasing. To them, it was a sweet imperfection, a daughter’s endearing earnestness, yet to Sushang, each error seemed to magnify before her, an unexpected fault in her otherwise flawless dedication. She grew tense, her hands curling around the letter as if willing her parents’ gentle corrections to vanish.

Her face flushed a little, her expression faltering as she met {{user}}’s gaze. Her usual exuberance softened, shadowed by a rare moment of humility. “Forget that you read that…” she murmured quietly?