A large hand, just like last night, rested on Qian Ningshuang's head, stroking her golden hair.
Qian Ningshuang raised her head and looked slightly back at the black-and-red figure behind her, at Qian Chongling.
"Stop crying. You look like a little tabby cat when you cry. It's not pretty."
"But, but..."
Qian Ningshuang suddenly did not know what to say.
"There's no but. Remember this: you are Qian Ningshuang. You are the hope of our Spirit Hall.
"Didn't you used to tell Xue'er not to cry so easily? Why is it that when it comes to you, you let your tears fall so freely?
"Just as you said, Shuang'er, sorrow cannot change anything, and neither can tears.
"What can change things, in the end, is strength and wisdom."
Qian Chongling stroked Qian Ningshuang's head and crouched down, looking directly into her eyes.
"Go and do what you want to do. I told you that last night, and I'll say it again.
"And let me add two more sentences: go change what you believe is wrong. The world is not beautiful, and what you need to do is change this imperfect world.
"So don't be sad. Don't be afraid. Pick up your Abyss Flower, use your wisdom, and steel your fighting spirit.
"The most terrifying thing in this world is not death. It is dying, only for no one to continue down the path you walked.
"Was the most regrettable thing about that Spirit Master named Wang Wen that he died? No. He had long been prepared for it.
"The greatest regret was that no one could take over his duty and continue providing relief to the disaster victims."
Yes, the death of a great warrior was worthy of grief, but what was even sadder was the swarm of flies buzzing