"Out nine, back eighteen? Cousin, are you serious? If you want to complete the remaining seal incantations, you'll have to burn at least five hundred thousand years of your lifespan. If you were to ride a crane west because of this, how could I, your cousin, bear the sorrow? How about writing your last words and leaving a will first? Don't worry. I'll definitely give your inheritance to my nephews and nieces whom I've never even met."
Zhang Yang wore an expression of unbearable grief—no, he urged him on as if his heartache had made it hard to breathe.
Hearing this, Mu Shaoan, who was hiding among the thirty-six thousand Heavenly Dao Mahayana cultivators, bared his teeth. He was so furious that he laughed instead. Sigh, I have never seen anyone so shameless. And yet he's my cousin—sorry, I, Mu Shaoan, have wronged Heaven and Earth, wronged all living beings, wronged every spirit, wronged everything. I should have slapped him to death and rid the people of this menace.
"Cut the crap. Have everyone else withdraw. My identity can't be exposed yet, at least not before we find the perfect antidote to the Third Generation Insecticide. So, you take the reputation, and I take the benefits. Once this Ancient God Seal is completed, I want one-third of the control."
"Excellent!"
Zhang Yang nodded. He couldn't have asked for more. After all, he could still be considered the Dao Ancestor of this world. If people learned that he couldn't even inscribe a single divine seal incantation, wouldn't that be humiliating?
Now, the remaining seventy-nine seal incantations would be inscribed by him personally. Ah, his image had instantly become more imposing—no, even more tall, mighty, and profound. Wasn't it?
With an imperial order, all unrelated personnel dispersed, while Mu Shaoan had long