After eliminating Fan Jingtian, the lackey of the Time Administration Bureau, there was another arduous seven days of world-ending events, and she indeed had no time to stop.
He Jia was slightly moved, leaning down, raising his hand, and slowly placing it on her head.
Like many times before, gently patting with a reassuring and steady power.
His voice softened, "Brother is here."
It felt like going back to many years ago, before the palace upheaval ended, when the capital of the Ning Dynasty hadn't yet moved to Fengyuan, and the siblings were rushing around the Northwest to evade pursuers.
Those days were tough, but finding joy in hardships seemed even more precious.
They had accompanied each other for too long, flesh and blood intertwined, hard to separate.
"I know." Ye Wanlan was silent for a moment and said, "I've always known."
With He Jia around, she had no worries.
But three hundred years ago, ultimately, she walked ahead.
Time was quiet, the wind softly whispering.
