Song Yin indeed showed a look of surprise, but as he listened to Jin Guang's explanation, he wasn't disappointed. On the contrary, he nodded in understanding,
"So that's how it is. The foundation of Master's abilities has already been passed on. I was mistaken. I thought that Master could keep dividing his foundation without limit to bestow upon his junior disciples."
"Your Master certainly wishes it were so, alas, alas, if only..."
Jin Guang wore an expression of helplessness mixed with regret. Then, he subconsciously started to say something more, but quickly realized and hastily shut his mouth, beads of cold sweat appearing on his forehead.
Having dealt with Song Yin for a long time, supplementing his words had nearly become instinct—nearly spouting some compensatory remarks again.
He couldn't set this precedence.
The more he spoke, the more errors he would make; the less he spoke, the fewer mistakes; silence entailed no errors.
