Even though the Monk wasn't crying, speaking, or shouting, Zheng Xiu could clearly see them amidst the snowstorm: tattered banners, whipping and snapping in the wind.
On the army banners, the character for "Zheng" was emblazoned on each one, its magnificent style undiminished by time as they swayed in the blizzard.
Zheng Xiu was finally seeing this scene with his own eyes. He saw the Hundred Ghosts March on the wasteland, saw the Zheng Clan Banner!
He recognized it at first glance—every character on those banners had been written by Zheng Haoran's own hand!
Forceful. Powerful. Brimming with passion and heroic spirit. The calligraphy was a reflection of the man himself. As Zheng Xiu stared at the "Zheng" characters, it was as if he could see Zheng Haoran standing before him, reaching out to his younger self, putting him on a horse, lifting him high in the air, and playing with swords and spears.
