It's not easy being a Master

5

Shen Zhixian rubbed the brocade between his fingers.

The golden white cloth was embroidered with flowing clouds, the stitching smooth and delicate. Even though it was high-quality brocade silk, it could not avoid being worn down by age.

This belonged to Yan Jin. Although he didn't know where it originally came from, Shen Zhixian knew that Yan Jin valued this piece of ribbon so much that he would rather be injured than damage or lose it.

Shen Zhixian was eighty percent certain that the plot involved stealing this brocade ribbon and throwing it into the Hidden Sword Pavilion. The perpetrator probably spoke some provocative words, causing Yan Jin to rush into the Hidden Sword Pavilion without any consideration for the consequences. Otherwise, considering Yan Jin's calm temperament, he would not have taken such a big risk.

Shen Zhixian stared down at the ribbon caught between his fingers and, after a moment, and finally made up his mind.

In normal circumstances, his temperament was usually calm, relaxed, and easy-going. However, he didn't like living under an unknown danger. It was unpleasant to feel like there was a knife hanging over his head, not knowing when it would drop.

After he resolved all the strange things around him and fixed things with Yan Jin, he would be able to live his own life in peace. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

Another gust of wind blew through, and the dead leaves that had just landed once again scattered with the wind, attracting the disciples' attention. 　　

This group of junior disciples had just entered the sect, and the senior disciple was only seventeen or eighteen years old. He usually practiced with all his heart and soul. There weren't so many twists and turns in his mind, let alone suspecting that the Elder Shen, who was "unrestricted," would really sneak in and out under their eyelids.

They were still whispering and laughing at the stupid dead leaves when Shen Zhixian quietly left. 　

After transmigrating and being directly tossed from side to side this evening, it was almost dawn by the time he returned back to his room.

He hadn't slept all night...Ah, no. He had actually gone about two nights without sleep now, and he was mentally exhausted. He poured himself a cup of cold tea, gradually calmed, and tried to figure out everything that needed to be done next.

The injury at the back of his hand was not serious and only required treatment with some Flesh Regenerating Powder. There was a momentary chill when the medicine was applied, but after a while, it was more than half healed, leaving the injury site only looking only slightly red and swollen.

Shen Zhixian glanced at it, shook his sleeves and dangled them over his hands to cover to injury. This complexion was too white, white as porcelain, and the redness and swelling were especially noticeable. 　　

When dawn seeped through the windows, it found Shen Zhixian digging through the original owner's wardrobe to familiarize himself with it. Then, after carefully reorganizing it, he changed into a new set of clothes and left the house. The destination: the place where the leaders of the sect meets.

Truthfully speaking, Song Ming wasn't a terrible sword sect leader.

Every day, he would diligently have a morning meeting, approve sectarian matters, practice, and preside over all kinds of major events. He often handled matters smoothly and skillfully.

If the original Shen Zhixian became the sect leader, he might not be as good or diligent as Song Ming. 　　

Shen Zhixian's eyes flashed for a moment, recalling the simple description written about the original owner in the book and then linking it with the original owner's memory in his mind, barely managing to give shape to the type of person the original Shen Zhixian was.