The clear spring flows.
The ancient pine still stands tall.
The chill of late autumn has already manifested on the Ancestor Star, and within the Great Zhou family.
In Zhou Yan's courtyard, there is only him alone.
In the courtyard next to it, there are sounds of sword clashes, sounds of energy, and light sounds of breath.
Those are the rapid breaths of a young girl after intense exercise.
And that breath, the scent is like orchids, fragrant and fresh.
In the air, a faint fragrance still lingers.
Zhou Yan stands from night until day, watching time pass, watching the darkness fade as dawn arrives, his figure still like a lonely crane.
This has never seemed to change.
Under the ancient pine, beside the clear spring, watching the azure clouds rise, watching the water babble, Zhou Yan's mental state remains unchanged.
Ever since he embarked on the right path, Zhou Yan has comprehended this mental state, doing everything naturally and as he pleases.
