A person's life did not necessarily end at the moment their vitality was exhausted.
In some people's eyes, if one could leave their name in the annals of history and have their fragrance passed down through the ages, that was not another kind of immortality.
Thus, generation after generation of venerable sages and great figures had all been keen on leaving their names and spreading their fame. They, too, had such thoughts in mind.
Fang Gongming did not have so many schemes, but he also knew that leaving one's name in the annals of history was better than being cursed for ten thousand years, and was far more acceptable to him. Unless he had been driven into a corner, he was unwilling to leave behind an evil name.
From what he currently understood, Commander Bai—or rather, that group of ambitious schemers harboring ulterior motives—had only covetous intentions toward the Great Yong Dynasty. They did not possess the ability to overthrow it.
And once they truly rose in revolt and were branded as rebels and traitors, that stain would likely follow them for life. Unless Commander Bai could truly, against the slimmest of odds, achieve supreme greatness and awe the Divine Land into submission, only then could he shed his evil name and leave behind the glorious reputation of a founding follower of the dragon.
Compared to that, siding with the official forces was far more reliable.
After all, the Great Yong Dynasty's emperors throughout the generations had governed diligently, and it enjoyed a good reputation among the common people. It was by no means ruled by some muddleheaded, incompetent tyrant or foolish monarch who had thrown the realm into turmoil. Nor had the Great Yong Dynasty reached the end of its line.
Other than certain exceptions, if a unified dynasty