Time completely lost its meaning inside the Sacred Pond. Surrounded by the dense, ethereal mist and the endless swirl of ancient energy, neither of them knew how many hours or days had slipped past.
It felt as though time itself had frozen, leaving only the two of them suspended in a world of quiet water and lingering warmth.
After what felt like an eternity, the violent waves of pain inside Su Qinglan's body finally began to recede into a soft, dull ache.
She leaned limply against An Mo's chest, her body completely drained of all strength. Unable to keep her heavy eyelids open any longer, she slowly closed her eyes, letting her head rest against his heart.
An Mo looked down at her pale, exhausted face with endless devotion. He reached out his hand, gently sweeping the damp strands of hair away from her forehead and tucking them tenderly behind her ear.
Leaning down, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss right between her brows.
