"Is that so?"
Xuan Guang relaxed against the back of his chair and raised his chin slightly, his attitude noncommittal.
"Arrogant brat. Do you think a principal position is so easy to occupy?"
His casual manner drew a rebuke from Jiang Mangqing. After a lifetime of cultivation, the old man had brought his divine powers to their pinnacle, yet still had no confidence in seeking a Surplus position. This was a ladder to heaven that countless people could only dream of reaching.
"You couldn't catch up to that lord's achievements even if you flogged your horse. Borrow some strength to ascend to a Surplus position, and a hundred-odd years from now, cultivators throughout the world will surely be calling you 'my lord' too. You'll still live freely and comfortably."
The old man's expression softened again as he patiently coaxed him:
"So long as you can attain a position, what difference does it make whether it is a fruit position or a Surplus position?"
It sounded wonderful. Anyone hearing such prospects would have their head swimming. Never mind which position it was—climb up first, and discuss the rest afterward.
Xuan Guang was not determined to attain any particular fruit position, nor did he look down on Surplus positions. It was simply that not even the first stroke of this character had been written yet, and he did not believe meat pies would fall from the sky.
Still, he did not mind revealing a little of his thinking now, so he smiled with more than a trace of sarcasm:
"I have received more than one immortal edict from Celestial River Heaven. A glimpse of one spot is enough to reveal the whole leopard of your tradition's attitude. Now that such a fine opportunity has appeared, even if you dare to offer it,