"Swinging the sword millions of times and crushing the mountain with one strike."
Lin Shen sat in the carriage, the corners of his mouth twitching, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
Was he still cultivating it?
"Hehe, swinging the sword millions of times and crushing the mountain with one strike."
"Brother Han, I'm already so determined to never hold a sword again. You, why do you have to…" Lin Shen looked at the sword in front of him and gently closed his eyes.
His hand gripped the reins so tightly that his knuckles turned white and trembled.
"Lin Chongxiao asked me to come."
"His remnant soul is in this sword."
Han Muye handed the hilt of the sword to Lin Shen.
Lin Shen suddenly opened his eyes and looked at Han Muye in disbelief.
"You—you—really?"
Han Muye didn't say anything. He just injected a wisp of sword Qi into the sword.
The sword vibrated.