Inside the tent, only five people remained: Qin Qianluo, Su Jinyun, Long Nanzhi, Feng Qingyun, and Yao Guang.
In addition, there was the system that had always existed in an invisible form, yet seemed to be outside of this emotional storm.
Su Jinyun stood there quietly, like a statue, her gaze fixed on Qin Qianluo's eyes.
Those eyes, which always shone with wisdom and courage, were like the most dazzling stars in the night sky.
At this moment, however, a layer of sorrow, like a veil, hangs over the scene, much like the bright moon obscured by gloom, emitting a heartbreakingly faint light.
A sudden surge of bitterness welled up in Su Jinyun's heart, a feeling like an extremely unripe fruit suddenly bursting open without warning.
A strong, stinging, and astringent sensation instantly spread throughout her body like an electric current, making her heart feel as if it were being gripped by a merciless iron hand, causing her so much pain that she could hardly breathe.
Qin Qianluo, with her intelligence, could cleverly deceive everyone, but she was the only one she couldn't fool.
They have walked together through many years, weathering countless storms together, and have long since forged a tacit understanding between them that transcends words and reaches the very soul.
A single glance, a subtle gesture, and the other person can discern the myriad emotions and thoughts contained within.
Tears welled up in Su Jinyun's eyes without warning, like glistening pearls from a broken string, streaming down her fair, snow-white cheeks.
Every tear was filled with heartache for Qin Qianluo, deep fear of the unknown future, and reluctance to part with the person before him.
The tears glistened under the dim tent lights, as if reflecting the emotions deep within her heart.
Upon seeing this, Qin Qianluo felt as if she had been struck by a heavy hammer, filled with tenderness and guilt.
She sighed softly, a sigh that seemed to travel through the long river of time, filled with guilt towards Su Jinyun.
The helplessness in the face of what is to come, and the deep感慨 (gǎnkǎi - a deep feeling of deep emotion or reflection) about the unpredictability of fate.
She slowly and gently stretched out her arms, her movements as soft as a breeze brushing against flower petals, and carefully and tenderly embraced Su Jinyun.
It was as if they were holding the most precious and fragile treasure in the world, and could not tolerate the slightest harm.
She gently and soothingly stroked Su Jinyun's back with her hand, conveying a reassuring strength.
It seems as if all comfort and strength are being conveyed to the other person through this gentle caress.
He said in an extremely gentle, almost whispered voice, "Jin Yun, in the end, I have let you down."
If the Heavenly Dao that has brought this calamity is indeed the one I killed in the cultivation world back then, then this turmoil was caused by me.
I cannot stand by and watch countless innocent people suffer this calamity because of me.
If this Heavenly Dao cannot be completely eradicated this time, I fear the calamities to come will continue endlessly.
Qin Qianluo's voice trembled slightly, each word seemingly uttered with all her might, carrying a deep sense of helplessness and unwavering determination.
The voice echoed softly within the tent, like a tragic yet stirring battle song, telling of her mission and responsibility.
Qin Qianluo's words seemed to be suddenly caught on the string of fate; those words, which contained the weight of mission, the burden of responsibility, and the sorrow of helplessness, were still lingering on her tongue.
However, it failed to break through the defenses of the lips and teeth.
Su Jinyun's eyes were instantly filled with a resolute mist, within which emotions surged, and reluctance lingered like a vine.
Worries entwine the branches of uncertainty, while unwavering resolve shines like a sharp sword piercing through the clouds, pointing straight to the heavens.
Without the slightest hesitation, she leaned forward slightly, like a graceful butterfly, tiptoeing towards the direction in her heart.
Her lips, like two delicate, trembling flower petals, held a passionate love that bordered on madness.
With a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve, he slowly yet firmly pressed his lips to Qin Qianluo's.
This kiss was like a drop of water suddenly frozen in the long river of time, or a fusion of souls that transcended the cycle of life and death.
In that instant, the air inside the tent seemed to be thrown into a blazing torch, instantly bursting into flames.
Every inch of the space was filled with complex emotions so intense they were almost suffocating.
Su Jinyun's kiss was like a delicate yet powerful lock, firmly locking away all the words that Qin Qianlu was about to utter.
Those helpless sighs are like dirges buried by time; those tragic words are like vows about to vanish in the wind.
In this deep and affectionate touch, they were all quietly swallowed up by the torrent of time.
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