Beside the Qin Flower River.
Under the immense night veil, the sound of rushing river waters resonates.
An old man sits alone on a mossy stone, his gaze weathered and distant, staring reverently at the mighty, ever-eastward flowing river.
Behind him, a middle-aged man stands with his hands behind his back, admiration filled his eyes as he gazes at the silhouette of the elderly man.
The night wind howls, whipping against the crinkled visage.
A gentle breeze against the skin was what it used to be, but at this moment, Li Jinhuang found it strangely cold, his body could not help but tremble.
With a concerned look on his face, Li Yingzhang said, "Ancestor, the wind is too strong out here, let's go back."
Li Jinhuang raised his hand, indicating his refusal to the proposal.
The hand he raised did not fall but stretched out towards the flowing river, as if wanting to touch the mighty waters.
