Several days later, a streak of flight light descended from the sky. When Shi Le saw the cultivator before him, a smile appeared on his usually cold, stern face.
"Our fifty-year agreement-you came after all."
"Sorry. All sorts of troubles kept me busy, and I came late."
"As long as you came, you're not late!"
Clearly, Shi Bu held this elder brother of his in great respect. In a tribe, that often meant strength and status.
The three sat on the ground, and wine and meat were laid out: whole roast lambs and entire racks of beef ribs. Grassland cuisine had its own distinctive style.
Shi Le startled Shi Bu as soon as he spoke. "Some more brothers will be coming over shortly. Brother Hou, word of the great things you've done on the continent over the years has spread far across the grasslands. Everyone wants to see your abilities for themselves. Please don't blame me for taking the liberty."
Hou Niao smiled wryly. He knew Shi Le meant no harm, but what medicine was he selling in that gourd?
Shi Bu's heart stirred, however. He knew there might be a deeper meaning behind Shi Le's words.
On the grasslands, the Shi Clan golden bloodline was the only cultivation community. But as time passed and history changed, those studying the Swordplay Dao were no longer limited to the golden bloodline. It had long since spread, with other bloodlines gradually joining them. By now, more than half of those who truly practiced the sword no longer bore the surname Shi.
This was also a historical pattern in cultivation. Maintaining a legacy through bloodline alone would ultimately lead down an ever-narrowing road. Only by broadening the base and allowing more people to participate, forming a pyramid structure, could a legacy flourish ever