Under a starry summit, Qìng sat at the mountain peak, holding a jug of wine.
He looked somberly toward the distance. Over there, birds chirped and flowers bloomed. Though lacking abundant spiritual energy, such an environment was rare to see in the alien tribe's main camp.
This scenery, truly is beautiful.
A figure slowly approached Qìng.
It was Qian.
"How is it, are they really planning to do this?" Qìng asked softly.
"Yes, the aliens are indeed at a dead end, now preparing for a desperate fight."
Qian looked equally grave, "There's no other choice, they have brought this upon themselves, the odds of success are zero."
Qìng took a deep breath but said nothing.
He just kept watching the distant horizon.
Qian opened her mouth but ultimately did not speak.
"Heh, say what you want, there's no need for you and me to worry about these things, is there?" Qìng said without turning around.
"Master... are we doing the right thing?"
Tears appeared in the corner of Qian's eyes.
