In the room, the old man's cough echoed one after another, weak and seemingly about to pass out at any moment.
The man standing beside observed coldly, completely unmoved.
Do I hate him?
He no longer remembers what hatred feels like; perhaps he once did.
Probably every young person experiences a period of childishness, but once he freed himself from that, his vision naturally broadened.
Only the weak are driven by hatred, while the strong seek to control everything, including their own destiny and others'.
He said indifferently, "Looks like you regret letting me into the Jiang Family back then?"
The old sir covered his mouth, stopped coughing, and said, "Rather than handing the Jiang Family to mediocre individuals, it's better to pass it to someone capable. Heroes don't ask about origins, not to mention you have the Jiang surname. Your father was mediocre his whole life, but fortunately, he gave birth to you, which counts as a contribution to the Jiang Family."
