The moment Meng Zhao said this, Meng Hongdao's face flushed red with joy, and he said repeatedly,
"Good child, good child. It is enough that you have such intentions. A family is a family—only when the family is strong can it in turn nurture you younger generations. With your present cultivation, you are already one of the rarest powerhouses our Meng Family has seen throughout the years. Your experience and insights will surely become a precious foundation for the family."
In truth, Meng Hongdao had understated it. Counting from Meng Shentong onward, at Meng Zhao's age, there had been only Meng Zhao who had attained such achievements in Martial Dao. He was utterly without equal.
Even the first Earl of Nan'an, Meng Shentong, might not have possessed Meng Zhao's astonishing potential and attainments.
If Meng Zhao could compile his cultivation experiences into secret manuals and martial lineages, organize them into volumes, and leave them to the family, it would be an immense contribution. They could be passed down through generations as family inheritances. How could Meng Hongdao not be delighted?
People knew sorrow and joy, partings and reunions; the moon knew cloudy and clear, waxing and waning. No one could guarantee that the Meng Family would flourish forever. Should disaster truly befall the Meng Family one day, this accumulated foundation would be the root for preserving the spark and rising again.
Meng Zhao had chosen to do this partly to build his reputation. So long as the Meng Family regarded the martial arts methods and essentials he wrote as part of its foundation, his contribution to the family would speak for itself. When he took charge of the family in the future, he would face far less resistance.
Besides, no matter what, the Meng Family had indeed provided him enormous