Marquis Lü, Lu Chan, left Zhao City with Luo Wuji's handwritten letter. The Marquis of Anyang, Han Lin, left Zhao City profoundly shaken.
Luo Wuji gazed at the lush green trees outside the window. Luo Sheng asked softly, "Father, what are you looking at?"
Luo Wuji recalled the petition Lu Chan had mentioned. Lu Chan himself might not even know that this simple petition would become a fuse for certain things.
Would the man who first set this in motion be left without descendants?
Hearing his son's voice, he said calmly, "I see the future. An unpredictable future, perhaps a future where blood flows in rivers."
Luo Sheng shuddered in alarm. "Father, what do you mean? Has the situation under heaven deteriorated that far? Can't we stop it?"
Luo Wuji glanced at Luo Sheng and shook his head in disappointment. "Your father is a fighting general, so my poor aptitude for governance is at least excusable. I never imagined you would be even worse than me.
"Since the golden generation of your eldest granduncle passed away, our family has produced nothing but eccentrics for two generations running. I am a commander, Shi is a fighting general, and the men and women of our clan either bury themselves in the classics or study implements in workshops.
"None has much of the talent most needed to govern a state. They could administer commanderies and counties well enough, but they lack the talent of a king's assistant.
"Alas.
"Must we follow in our ancestor Duke Min's footsteps?"
Ancestors' Blessing could ensure that every ability of the Luo Clan's sons and Luo Clan Women was above average, but what exactly they excelled at was random.
The Luo Clan's sons and Luo Clan Women were all talented, even geniuses, but unfortunately, ancient society gave them