Shu Jian couldn't help feeling a wave of grief rise in his heart. He had been just a boy when he received the position of sect master from his late master, right as the Xingyi Sect was collapsing—taking on the duty in defeat, obeying orders in the midst of crisis. Two hundred and one years had passed since then.
Thinking of how he had racked his brains and exhausted every effort over the past two hundred years, never daring to slack off for a moment! Terrified of failing his late master—who couldn't even bear to buy a coffin back then, preferring to be wrapped in turf rather than spend the last three silver coins meant for his son's coffin—Shu Jian clenched his teeth, grabbed Shu Heng by the collar, and roared, "Are you going or not?!"
Shu Heng couldn't take it anymore either. His knees went weak, and he hugged Shu Jian's thigh, weeping, "Senior Brother, I'm scared! Yang Que died just like that, not even dust was left, and even the Yinyang Sword Sect was wiped out. I'm terrified!"
Chapter 105