No matter how long the night lasts, it will eventually pass.
No matter how distant the light is, it will eventually arrive.
Under the warm sunlight, Zhou Yan stood quietly beneath the ancient pine tree, watching the clear spring flow, the intertwining tree shadows, watching the clouds rise and fall, and watching the clouds gather and disperse.
His eyes were as bright and spirited as the sunlight of this world.
His eyes were also as profound and unfathomable as the night within the Sword Burial Ancestor Star.
Only when a person achieves great enlightenment will they have such eyes.
Only after transcendence will one possess eyes that seem to hold the birth and death of worlds.
If old friends were to see him now, they would certainly not recognize him, or rather, they would not recognize such eyes.
