The Seed of an Ancient Sword Cultivator

"Damn it!"

"Damn it!"

"What kind of nonsense logic is this?"

Xu Yong'an cursed and cursed, tears unconsciously streaming down his face.

"I just want to live. I just want my fellow disciples, my master, and my uncles to live well..."

"What did I do wrong?"

Master Wuheng's face remained emotionless, as calm as still water: "Being weak is wrong."

Xu Yong'an suddenly raised his head, staring intently at Master Wuheng. He bit his lip hard, tasting his own blood, and asked, "How can I become stronger?"

"How can I take control of my own fate?"

"How can I protect the people I want to protect?"

Master Wuheng looked at the stubborn, determined young man and chuckled lightly: "Gaining power only requires paying a price."

"I'll pay any price. I want to become strong. I want to control my own destiny, not be ignored and slaughtered like a pig or dog!"