How could anyone be convinced by an underage boy not yet eighteen?
"Alas..."
Usually, Cheng Wuduan appreciated his son's ambitious spirit—a martial artist's invaluable bravery and fearlessness.
If one's edge is blunted and they become seasoned in the Jianghu, their future potential would be virtually negligible.
However, hearing Cheng Shaoqiu's words at this moment, he didn't feel any comfort, only irritation and noise.
"You don't understand, Shaoqiu, and Zhiming, Xiaowen... You may think Chen Ping is just an up-and-coming talent and that Primordial Martial Arts Hall is dominated by Han Wushang's strength. But if that were true, would Primordial Martial Arts Hall still exist?"
"What father says is true."
Cheng Shaoqiu was somewhat unconvinced, but he was always a filial child and didn't argue with his elders, just listened.
He thought that his father went out and came back looking desolate, obviously having encountered something.
Just not knowing what had actually happened.
