"Power and riches,"
"How can they be passed down through bloodlines?"
"If everyone did this, the Xianmen Sect would turn into various family clans, united internally but aggressive against others, with citizen's rights completely eradicated."
Jiang Ding looked at the starry sky outside the window and murmured, "How can such a thing happen to me? This is not right; it shouldn't be."
"Nephew, this is my final gift to you."
"I wish you all peace and safety."
The figure disappeared without a trace.
...
Amidst the sprawling Molten Gold Vine, a young man dressed in blue was sitting cross-legged.
"Uncle Master."
Monk Fa Zheng bowed with respect and said, "The chaos of war in the Northern Plains has grown more frequent over the past three years. Many Foundation-building cultivators have sought refuge here through the Lingbao Commerce Association, and there have even been five Golden Pill Monks who have come here to reside, causing a sharp deterioration in public order."
