The voice of the Qingfeng Sword Spirit was muffled as it walked out, passing by Baize's side.
Baize reached out a hand and slapped the spirit's face.
"Smack!"
The Qingfeng Sword Spirit's eyes were blank, unable to believe the slap landed on its face.
Its body was clearly ethereal, without substance, yet why did the face burn with pain?
"Does this ease your mind? Or do you want to end it all on the Immortal Path?" Baize looked calmly.
The Qingfeng Sword Spirit bit its lip.
It did indeed harbor such thoughts just now.
Baize's words were like blades: "A sword nearly a hundred thousand years old, chased away by two children adding up to not even ten years old, do you feel ashamed?"
The spirit only felt its face burning, wishing it could find a crack to hide in, yes... it could hide back in the sword!
Yet.
