"You must have lost something precious," Darla said softly, her voice calm but firm. "The scars from that loss must still linger in your hearts. The world of cultivation is ruthless—cold and unforgiving. Your circumstances are truly unfortunate, but I must tell you this: you're not alone. Countless others have faced bitter experiences, and yet... they chose to live."
She paused for a moment, letting her words settle among the crowd of battered survivors.
"Live," she repeated gently. "That's all I can say. Survive, endure, and find the strength to start again."
Darla's eyes swept over the weary faces before her—men, women, even children—many of them too stunned or exhausted to speak. Their clothes were torn, their eyes hollow, and their spirits battered. The weight of their losses hung in the salty sea air like a shadow.
