"She… is also a pitiful child, but she will be safe through this ordeal, she will be fine, you can rest assured."
The old man gently stroked Zhou Yan's head, his words tinged with a trace of faint sadness.
This faint sadness, yet so soul-stirring, even the chaotic void seemed to follow the old man's sorrow, wailing and blowing a cold wind that moaned like a lament.
"It's good… Yanyan is fine. My death doesn't matter, there's nothing… unbearable about it. It's just, failing Master's high hopes, I have no face…"
Zhou Yan's emotions had calmed down a lot, but he still spoke with immense shame.
"Forget about these things, I don't have much time. I need to entrust you with a few things, you must continue to live, do not give up."
The old man didn't blame Zhou Yan for anything, as if he had long anticipated this day would come.
"Master..."
Zhou Yan's voice choked up.