The smoke of the great battle had dissipated, yet Ling'ao Island remained shrouded in post-war exhaustion and solemnity. A sea breeze carrying a faint, salty tang swept through the ruined walls and blood-stained streets, seeming to murmur of the brutal conflict that had just transpired.
The cultivators in the city were busy repairing and healing their wounds, a cacophony of voices rising and falling. At the docks, fishermen mended torn nets, their gazes cast toward the sea filled with the mingled relief and awe of the survivors.
Inside Hu Feng's residence, however, the atmosphere was uniquely subtle. Su Wanqing and Lingshuang sat on opposite sides of a stone table, their eyes occasionally drifting toward Xing Lan, who stood quietly by the window, gazing out at the courtyard scenery.
Chapter 60