The flower easily dropped the words and threw out the token.

Hua Xiao was still sitting in the courtyard. This time, without those people intruding, and with Hua Rong as a backer to ask for help, Hua Xiao can be said to feel a lot more relaxed.

The letter soon reached him, and when he opened it, he immediately felt hopeful. The current situation is just that she still can't believe that this is the case, as long as he adds a few words and gives her enough reasons to believe, it will be fine.

But how do you say that?

Hua Xiao thought about it and frowned again.

The attendant was standing in the garden, and when he saw Hua Xiao's sad face, he immediately came over. Hua Xiao was not taboo, and directly showed him the content of the letter.

The entourage thought about it, and thought of a foolproof plan that could make Hua Rong believe.

"Young master, according to the small point of view, you can't lie anymore now, the fourth miss is already a little suspicious, you can tell the truth next, and tell the thousand secret volumes that appeared in the city, as well as the two disappeared white-clothed boys, and the few devils who 'killed' the master, all of them, I believe that the fourth miss will definitely think about it, if what you say is too false, she will definitely not believe it"

After the entourage finished speaking, Hua Xiao frowned and thought about it, feeling that it made sense. Hua Rong is the only person who can help him now, and if she knows that she is not good for her father, she will definitely stop helping herself. Hua Xiao thought about it, so he wrote down the matter one by one according to the instructions of his entourage, and carefully analyzed and determined that Daddy's death was caused by those big devils.

As soon as the letter was sent, Hua Xiao sat in the courtyard with a worried letter.

Now it can't be all seen by this letter. If she believes and helps herself, the Hua family will still be his, and there will still be a place for her in the future. As for the thousand secret volumes, since he can't get it, then forget it, he will have wine, meat and women in the future, and he can't be a true immortal, and it's okay to be a happy immortal in Huafu.

Hua Xiao thought as if the matter had been reached, and happily drank a little wine in the courtyard.

Hua Rong received the letter, but it was already late at night.

Sitting alone in the courtyard, Jiang Yun'er, who was sweeping the floor, had already gone back to the house to rest, and she was left alone.

Hua Rong also couldn't wait to know his reason, so he opened it immediately.

I saw that the letter was full of accusations against the "crimes" of the thousand confidential volumes, saying that it had caused many people in the city to lose their hearts, including my father. said that in order to get the thousand secret volumes, Daddy credulously believed the words of those big devils, and in the end, he lost both money and money, and even lost his life. Now that the family is in a mess, she needs to administer justice, open a new road for Huafu, and let those guys who have fallen into the well and look down on people know that our Hua family is not no one, and none of you can afford to provoke it.

The letter also told a lot of stories about his father's death and the tragic situation in the family, as well as secret compliments to Hua Rong.

Hua Rong was dismissive of those words, but she couldn't let go of her father's death.

Having said so much, looking at such a big letter, Hua Rong's most important focus is not on those big devils, nor on the tragic situation of Huafu, but on who killed his father Hua Lianwei. In the final analysis, it's still those thousand secret volumes!

Hua Rong wrote again to ask Hua Xiao to confirm whether that thing was a thousand secret volumes. After all, no one else knew about that thing, and it had gone from her to the head before, but how could he do this? How could he take care of these family grievances and grievances? And where have mortals ever seen these thousand secret volumes? It's just a guess.