"From my father, all the way down to me. Every one of us could act willfully, could make trouble, could voice our pain. Because the old man was still alive; no matter what happened, there was always someone behind us to catch us when we fell."
"My cultivation has already caught up to him. My uncle, my fourth uncle, my elder brother, my father—their cultivation all surpassed his. Yet for the entire Zhong Xuan Family, it was always him, standing there to shield us from the wind and rain."
"Because his concern for the family was greater than anyone else's. So it was always he who silently bore everything."
Jiang Wang remembered, back then at the East Street intersection. That white‑haired old man streaked across the sky, descending in fury onto the street, scolding Jiang Mengxiong in public and loudly questioning the Emperor Qi. That scene was indeed unforgettable. A memory for a lifetime.
