Meng Zhao nodded. He more or less understood why Tan Changming had acted this way.
Tan Changming naturally had selfish motives. At his age and in his position, power and status were things he wanted to hold tightly in his grasp. Even less was he willing to be slapped onto the beach by the so-called younger generation.
Yet even so, he also possessed a sense of duty toward Divine Saber Hall.
Since Divine Saber Hall had been established, countless saber prodigies and geniuses had sworn to subdue Demonic Saber Jingqing. Generation after generation had been the same. Several centuries had now passed, yet no one had succeeded.
This was an immense regret. Anyone who truly felt they belonged to Divine Saber Hall carried this regret and was willing to strive for it.
Tan Changming was precisely such an orthodox disciple of Divine Saber Hall, which was why he had made this choice.
Just as life and death meant little to some people with faith, personal power and status could never compare, in Tan Changming's heart, to Divine Saber Hall's centuries-old wish.
Even if he faced tremendous risks, he was still willing to give the other party such an opportunity.
Of course, there was another possibility: Tan Changming was confident that even if the other party grew stronger, he could still suppress him and would not truly suffer a backlash.
As for how things would end, before it happened, who could say for certain?
"It's fine. Since that is the case, there are some things you may tell Grandfather, and some things you must not. Understand?"
Though Meng Zhao regretted that Tan Changming's way of thinking was too dangerous, he did not believe he could change this old stubborn man's mind by himself.
With all the experience Meng Zhao had accumulated