Qian Jiujin gave up the Purple Mansion Ranking's top spot that was within easy reach not because he feared the Song Clan's might, but precisely because he had set his sights on that might.
With such an obvious show of goodwill, he believed the Song Clan's elders—even True Monarch Zixu himself—would notice.
As long as his name could leave an impression in the bottom of Song Changsheng's heart, his goal would be achieved.
Though he had rarely descended the mountain over the years, he had his own judgment of the world's general trend.
Even if the intelligence in his hands was limited, he could still see through the surface and perceive the enormous ambition Song Changsheng possessed.
He was certain that in the lands of the southwest, the former state of each governing itself and fighting alone was gone forever.
After this Nascent Soul ceremony, Song Changsheng's, and even the Song Clan's, might would reach an entirely new height, becoming the key hub that no great or small affairs in the southwest's future could bypass.
This Spirit Peak beneath his feet would become the absolute center of the southwest, and the connections between the various cultivation worlds would only grow deeper and deeper, roots coiling and branches intertwining, you within me and me within you, becoming a true whole.
These things would naturally take time to realize, but that day definitely would not be far off.
Those who followed would prosper; those who defied would perish.
If one did not wish to become an abandoned child of the era, one had to actively integrate. This was the trend of the times, impossible to alter.
But if the alliance centralized power, they would inevitably lose part of their sovereignty.
For those small forces whose very survival hung by a thread from