"Daddy, why are you crying?"
Ling'er's innocent face and soft, childish voice were so moving that it brought tears to one's eyes.
"Daddy's not crying, not crying." Tianming quickly wiped his tears, his face beaming with joy as he gazed at his precious daughter, who had finally spoken again.
The familiar voice, the familiar "Daddy"—Tianming had waited for decades, not daring to believe he'd ever hear his daughter call him "Daddy" again.
Ling'er was only four years old, a small girl who had just begun to understand the world, when years ago, she was killed by Wuqing.
For decades, Tianming lived consumed by hatred. Whenever he thought of the scene where Ling'er was murdered, he felt an immeasurable pain, but the belief in resurrecting Ling'er kept him enduring through it all.
Today, that one word "Daddy" wiped away all of Tianming's suffering over the decades in an instant.
You could say his pain had finally given way to joy.
