Pang Qingyun looked Uncle Yin straight in the eye. "You mentioned the Gong Family earlier. Let's use them as an example. Back then, the Gong Family could use their strength to force Xu Yi to make peace. But what are they to Xu Yi now?"
Uncle Yin stared back at Pang Qingyun, baffled. He couldn't make sense of the logic.
Pang Qingyun said, "I admit that making peace allowed the Gong Family to survive. But they're doomed to spend the rest of their lives looking up at Xu Yi like ants. Uncle Yin, if I make peace with Xu Yi, how long will it take before I become another ant gazing up at him?"
Uncle Yin wanted to say that some people were destined to be extraordinary, riding far ahead of everyone else, and that Pang Qingyun had no need to obsess over comparing himself to them. But when the words reached his lips, he found he couldn't say them.
Pang Qingyun said, "It's true that if we pay a price, we can make peace with Xu Yi. It's true that no matter how high he flies in the future, it won't concern us. We can walk our own paths and cultivate our own ways. It's a way to survive, but it's also a path destined for mediocrity. Others may take it, but I, Pang Qingyun, never will. I'd rather die at Xu Yi's hands and turn to dust than spend my whole life looking up at him, living a humdrum existence."
Uncle Yin finally understood. Pang Qingyun wanted to fight for his pride, but this wasn't some petty grievance.
On the path of cultivation, a thousand people made a thousand different choices. Pang Qingyun had chosen a difficult road, and Uncle Yin couldn't help but admire him for it.