Wu Shou felt utterly exhausted every day. The physical fatigue was nothing, given that he was a Saint, but the mental exhaustion was truly unbearable.

After a bout of furious scolding, Wu Shou almost cried as he pleaded.

"Senior Brother, please come back soon. I really can't hold on any longer. The sect, the Enforcement Hall, the Mission Hall, everything is piling up on me. I don't have three heads and six arms!"

Seeing Wu Shou looking so pitiful, Qi Xiong tried to comfort him.