Zhang Xing could hardly say what he felt-whether it was mockery, pity, or simply regret... Thinking further, a Zhang Laosan from the Northern Wasteland who made his living making ice hardly had any right to point fingers at a distinguished clan patriarch and Great Grandmaster. The man had lived quite a life.
But there was no doubt that he felt enough for this Great Grandmaster who shared his surname to sigh inwardly.
The reason could not have been clearer: the road this Great Grandmaster Zhang had taken was so right. Whether he had stumbled onto it or sensed something of that supposedly elusive will of heaven, this Great Grandmaster, who had fought with a spear in his youth, abandoned martial pursuits for letters in middle age, and established his life's work in his later years, had chosen the broadest, most promising road of any Great Grandmaster.
A comparison of the two worlds made it obvious: this world truly lacked a teacher for all ages who taught without distinction.
Never mind how much merit of this sort the Azure Emperor had unwittingly claimed. Even conceding every other point, born in this age of transition from hereditary aristocratic houses to lesser clans and humble families, all you had to do was break out of the Zhang Clan's confines, step beyond them, hold fast to teaching without distinction, and spread cultivation and learning to a certain extent. Surely a divine seat beside the Azure Emperor or Lord White Emperor would await you, whatever happened?
Not to mention that this world truly lacked a teacher for all ages who could bring together the hundred schools and unite letters and arms.
Summarize it all, organize it all, then send three thousand accomplished disciples across the world-even becoming a Supreme One was not beyond imagining, was