It's not easy being a Master

59

In the darkness, there was a powerful force attempting to separate their tightly-closed hands.

Shen Zhixian exhausted all his strengths to hold on to Yan Jin's hand. He felt that Yan Jin was also doing the same, but they couldn't resist this mysterious power and were involuntarily forced apart.

In the darkness, he could sense that Yan Jin was gradually leaving him, falling away like sands between his fingers.

“A’jin!” he cried out, but his voice was shredded into innumerable pieces by the wind. Like this, his voice could not be heard, nor could he hear Yan Jin’s voice.

All he heard was the vague and strange howls that sounded like thousands of demons and hundreds of ghosts.

When the last bit of warmth left his fingertips. Shen Zhixian gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and, from the bottom of his heart, summoned Frost Return’s sword spirit.

Frost Return’s sword spirit had recently been showing vague signs of awakening, but it only came in brief spurts. Occasionally, it would move like a child lazing in bed, hesitant to wake up. But now, Shen Zhixian couldn’t wait any longer. This place was too strange. He could hardly move and could only forcibly awaken Frost Return’s sword spirit as a last resort.

Frost Return Sword appeared in his hand out of nowhere. Shen Zhixian tightly clenched the hilt, resisting the powerful force that wanted to wrest his sword away. He forced his spiritual force to converge on the sword, bit his tongue, and let out a drop of blood. “Frost Return, wake up!”

One drop of blood beaded on the sword body. In response, the body began to tremble. Frost Return’s sword spirit finally woke up from it's deep slumber. The sword spirit hissed cold and raw in his ear and, for a moment, the surrounding noises stilled.

Now that the long dormant Frost Return’s sword spirit had finally regained consciousness, it excitedly manipulated the sword blade. Shen Zhixian loosened his grip and the sword jumped around happily, its bitingly cold sword qi quelling the wind.

The thousands of demons and hundreds of ghosts and fiends that lurked in the darkness seemed to be afraid of the sword spirit. Shen Zhixian could feel the gloomy and foreboding atmosphere lessening, and even the howling voices had grown quieter.

After the sword spirit had enough of jumping around, it slammed back into Shen Zhixian’s arms, forcing him to take a few steps backward. These few backward steps took him into another world. Suddenly, in front of him stretched out a long street.

“Sui Xian Gege…” came a vaguely childish voice beside him. Shen Zhixian faintly lowered his head and a familiar young and immature face appeared before his eyes.

Shrunk….a shrunken Yan Jin?

Shen Zhixian stared blankly, then subconsciously blurted out, “A’jin?”

The boy carefully grabbed Shen Zhixian's sleeve, his face upturned, his eyes bright and clear. "... I thought you left."

The little guy tried his best to hide the fear and confusion in his eyes. But, after all, he was still young, and Shen Zhixian could see the uneasy emotions behind those dark and bright eyes.

Looking at the face that looked exactly like Yan Jin, if albeit much younger, Shen Zhixian felt himself softening. He opened his mouth to ask him who he was. But, to his surprise, what came out was something else altogether.

“I haven’t left. I brought you candied hawthorn and sugar painting to play with.” The voice that sounded in his ears was very familiar. It was his own voice, though obviously more youthful.