chapter 137 The hatred of losing a son

The clerk, holding the letter in both hands, ran all the way to the top floor of the Ministry of Revenue office building.

Wherever he passed, everyone who saw this handwriting let him go.

Finally, we came to the only office space on the top floor.

An old man in Tang suit with white beard and hair was burying his head in a sea of ​​books, reviewing various documents.

If Mr. Ye were here, he would definitely recognize this old man at a glance as the big...