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... Beside the Qin Flower River.
Under the immense night veil, the sound of rushing river waters resonates.
An old man sits alone on a mossy stone, his gaze weathered and distant, staring reverently at the mighty, ever-eastward flowing river.
Behind him, a middle-aged man stands with his hands behind his back, admiration filled his eyes as he gazes at the silhouette of the elderly man.
The night wind howls, whipping against the crinkled visage.
A gentle breez ...
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