Looking at Qin Qianluo was like seeing another version of herself, someone who also toiled through the years, upheld her responsibilities, and persevered through exhaustion.

Su Jinyun turned her head slightly and looked at Qin Qianluo, whose hair was already streaked with white, and her heart skipped a beat.

It felt as if I was being gripped tightly by an invisible and icy hand, and my breath caught in my throat.

The little girl with the soft, sweet smile in my memory, so innocent and carefree, has now grown gray hairs.

Those white hairs, under the sunlight, were as dazzling as frost and snow, stinging her eyes and striking her heart like a heavy hammer.

The passage of time is so silent, yet so cruel and merciless, like a silent assassin, leaving deep marks on them without their knowledge.

The sculptor of time relentlessly carves the marks of vicissitudes onto the faces and hair of those before us.

She couldn't help but sigh, time flies so fast, it seems like only a blink of an eye, and so many years have passed.

The two of them left the palace hand in hand.

Along the way, though no one spoke, a tranquil and peaceful atmosphere permeated the surroundings, as if time itself was moved by this deep affection and slowed its hurried pace.

The wind blew gently, as if offering silent comfort.

The birdsong was crisp and melodious, yet it seemed to understand the tranquility of the moment and ceased its clamor.

The hustle and bustle of the distant streets, like the receding tide, gradually faded away, leaving only the sounds of each other's breathing and heartbeats, weaving together into a silent yet moving melody.

No one else could intrude between them; their unique tranquility and tacit understanding were like a deep, boundless lake, serene and profound.

Bearing their affection and concern over the years, and having withstood the test of time, it has become more mellow and precious, like a fine wine aged for many years, exuding a charming and intoxicating fragrance.

Watching the two figures walk away hand in hand, their silhouettes gradually blurring against the backdrop of the palace walls, it was as if a traditional Chinese ink painting was slowly fading away in the winds of time.

In the hearts of the Emperor and the Emperor Emeritus, it was as if an invisible hand had quietly turned a valve that stirred a bitter ache.

That bittersweet feeling, like an undercurrent, slowly surged in my heart, lingering and spreading in wisps.

Like tasting an unripe green fruit for the first time, it has a slight, bitter taste that makes you frown, yet it is also filled with many indescribable complex emotions.

Yet, deep within this bittersweet depths, like molten lava surging from the earth, a proud, warm current subtly churns.

Like the warm sun piercing through thick clouds in winter, its rays are dazzling, warm and intense, dispelling the faint gloom in one's heart with undeniable force.

These are the veteran ministers who have served three dynasties! Their loyalty is like an ancient, unyielding rock, remaining steadfast and unmoved no matter how fiercely the storms of time may rage.

Her sense of responsibility is like that towering mountain that reaches into the clouds, standing tall and upright, supporting a peaceful and tranquil sky for the Zhaoning Kingdom.

Looking back, the trust and reliance that the royal family placed on her over the years ultimately did not go to waste.

Through her actions and a lifetime of dedication, she profoundly demonstrated her unwavering loyalty to the country.

Like a sturdy city wall, it became the most solid and reliable arm of the royal family, and the mainstay of Zhaoning Kingdom that has withstood the test of time.

Until the two figures completely disappeared from sight, as if silently swallowed by the river of time and merged into the endless void.

The retired emperor slowly withdrew his gaze, which had been fixed on him for a long time and was filled with deep affection.

His gaze, like a gentle breeze in spring, softly caressed the earth, carrying endless tenderness and love as it slowly fell upon his own child.

The Emperor's eyes were slightly red, glistening with tears, like dewdrops trembling on lotus leaves in the early morning.

Under the dim light, it reflects the deep emotions of being moved, reluctant to part, and the heavy sense of responsibility for the future.

Upon seeing this, the retired emperor felt as if he had been struck by a heavy hammer, and a piercing pain spread through his heart.

He forced back the bitter taste that threatened to overwhelm him like a surging tide and took a deep breath.

His chest heaved violently as he tried to forcefully calm the turmoil churning within him.

His lips trembled slightly, turning pale from the excitement and repression in his heart.

He tried to make his voice sound calm and gentle, like a calm and deep lake, without a ripple: "My son, this time I will travel with Qin Qianluo."

At this point, the Emperor Emeritus paused slightly, his eyes instantly filled with earnest expectations and deep affection.

Like a vast and deep night sky, twinkling with stars, each star contains endless care and hope.

He gently grasped the emperor's hand. Though those hands were marked by the vicissitudes of time, with rough and cracked skin, they remained firm and strong, conveying a continuous source of power and warmth.