Why did Old Zhang suddenly seem like he was making arrangements for his own death?
Qin Shi took the iron object, its significance extraordinary, and felt his mind go blank.
By rights, wasn't he the one who was supposed to be left behind?
"Master Zhang, are you all right?"
Qin Shi asked uneasily.
The Nanhuang Dojo was currently his greatest source of support.
Without Old Zhang, a grandmaster, backing him, the Ying family could crush him with a single finger.
Of course, actively joining Old Chen and willingly becoming his son-in-law was another way out.
"Don't worry."
Old Zhang lifted his drooping eyelids and smiled.
"I've still got a few years left in me."
Qin Shi opened his hand and looked down at the iron object.
It was a palm-sized token modeled after an ancient design, its surface gleaming with a metallic sheen. Four raised characters, "No Restrictions," were carved into it in an archaic, unadorned style.
"You only need to enter your identity information into it. The 'legal network' of Eastern Xia will no longer be able to restrain you. Whatever you do, you can achieve the 'result' first and provide the 'reason' afterward."
Old Zhang's voice was hoarse.
"Wielding this kind of power means you're certain to be listed as a 'dangerous individual' on every official roster in Eastern Xia. These aren't the turbulent old days when martial artists broke the law with impunity. Every dojo is either brought under control or viewed with suspicion. I've only used this twice in my life.
"Junior Brother Qin, remember: having no restrictions depends on your strength. This is merely a legitimate excuse for you to exercise that power."
Qin Shi nodded to show he understood.
What any powerful regime valued most was stability.
Being armed and having no restrictions might