Upon hearing Song Changsheng's decision, Xia Yunxue's fists clenched tightly, but she soon relaxed them. 'This was the answer I expected, wasn't it?'
From a mother's perspective, she didn't want her son to become that blasted Young Clan Leader. The burden that came with the position was simply too great.
Song Xianming had served as the Clan Leader for nearly a hundred years. His contributions to the clan were innumerable; in the eyes of every Song Clan disciple, he was a heaven-supporting pillar of white jade, a purple-gold beam that spanned the seas.
But how many people knew that in the past century, the number of times Song Xianming had left Vast Mist Peak could be counted on one hand? That he was trapped day in and day out on the Vast Summit, unable to leave?
As a mother, she didn't want her son to follow in his grandfather's footsteps. But as a clan Elder, she knew this was the best possible outcome.
