An Qianshan led An Jing and Gu Yeqi toward the center of the town.
"After the great upheaval, fewer than one in ten people remained across all of Chenli. Agriculture collapsed. If not for the Yankui teams arranged by the Mingjing Sect to regularly deliver salt, iron, grain, and other supplies, remote little tribes like ours would have perished long ago."
Ever since the Battle of Nirvana, Taguolang had become a member of the Mingjing Sect, responsible for inspecting the affairs of the tribes throughout the northwest. He was so busy that his feet barely touched the ground and could not return to the tribe at all, so An Qianshan had naturally become the "acting chieftain," leading the Tagu Tribe onward in its construction.
"It's no longer a little tribe."
Though An Jing had no such intention, what he said was truly darkly humorous. "There are now fewer than ten human settlements in the entire northwest. Because the Tagu Tribe preserved its people so well, it has become the largest one."
"In my view, Father, with your abilities, even without my support, you could easily become the hegemon of the northwest—the future royal tribe."
"How could that be?" An Qianshan laughed. "Though neither of us ever publicizes it, anyone with a mind has long known of my existence. Without your orders, the supplies I receive would not be among the best batches."
"And with so few people, every tribe is directly administered by the Mingjing Sect. There are no longer so many middlemen taking their cut. Compared to back then, when a tribe had to pay taxes four or five times and still suffer the autumn raids of other great tribes, things are getting better and better now."
At this point, An Qianshan could not help turning his head and