Chapter 859: The Most Remarkable Prodigal Son
But besides the strength shown on the table, there were many hidden forces beneath the surface that often played the most crucial roles at the most critical moments.
For instance, the upheaval at the Heavenly Book Mound three years ago—if the Tang Clan hadn’t stepped in, Shang Xingzhou would have found it very difficult to control the situation in the capital.
“You are a descendant of the Tang Clan. You should know where the Tang Clan’s greatest strength lies.”
The Old Master Tang looked at Tang Thirty-Six and said.
“Is it those same old clichés again?”
Tang Thirty-Six said with a completely unconcerned expression: “Back then, Second Uncle kept nagging in my ear in the capital, telling me to learn reverence, and that the most worthy thing about our Tang Clan is its history. In other words, it’s because our Tang Clan has lived the longest on this continent.”
The Old Master Tang said, “They are indeed old clichés, but old sayings are often correct.”
“I’m not saying those words are wrong. Time and history are certainly worthy of reverence—even terrifying to think about.”
Tang Thirty-Six looked at the old master and said, “The longer you live, the more secrets you know. The Tang Clan has lived countless years in this world, so of course it knows countless secrets and hides countless hidden moves. Is that what they call ‘foundation’?”
The Old Master Tang said, “It’s not that simple, but you can understand it that way.”
Tang Thirty-Six looked at him calmly and said, “If we use time as a yardstick, then whether it’s the Qiu Shan family, the Wu family, or the Mu Tuo family, including the Liang, Chen, Wang, and Zhu dynasties of the past thousand years, none of them compare to the Tang Clan. The cards I’ve played naturally don’t either, but you’ve forgotten one thing.”
“What thing?”
“I still have one friend.”
Tang Thirty-Six patted Chen Changsheng on the shoulder and continued, “History, time, foundation… everyone in the Tang Clan talks about these words every day. I’m sick of hearing them. Do you really think that makes you invincible under heaven? Have you all forgotten about a place called the Daoist Sect?”
The Daoist Sect was the Daoist Sect, not just any place. Now it was the state religion.
The state religion was not a noble clan, yet it was more ancient than all noble clans, including the Tang Clan.
The state religion was not a sect, yet it was the largest sect, including the Eternal Life Sect.
Who could claim to have existed longer than the state religion, with a longer history and deeper foundation?
The Tang Clan? To speak of these things before the state religion—wasn’t that a joke?
“You locked me in the ancestral hall for half a year, and that gave me time to think through some issues.”
Tang Thirty-Six took a dossier from his sleeve and placed it on the table, saying to the Old Master Tang, “Some questions needed to be clarified, and now they are. Some questions were preparations for the future, and these are my preparations. You can take a look.”
The dossier was covered in dense, tiny handwriting, likely exceeding ten thousand characters.
The Old Master Tang looked at those words, his expression growing colder and colder, his eyes narrowing more and more.
The room fell silent, with only the sound of pages turning.
Chen Changsheng glanced at Tang Thirty-Six, wondering what exactly he had written.
Tang Thirty-Six didn’t acknowledge him. He still watched the old master quietly, his hands unconsciously clenched, the spaces between his fingers turning slightly white.
“Do you think the entire situation will develop exactly as you imagine?”
The Old Master Tang finally finished reading the dossier, slowly raised his head, and looked at Tang Thirty-Six with an expressionless face.
Tang Thirty-Six said, “I am the Tang Clan’s only grandson. No one understands the Tang Clan better than I do. If I were to lead an attack on the Tang Clan, it would probably go something like this.”
Chen Changsheng vaguely understood what was written in the dossier.
The Old Master Tang was silent for a long time before saying, “I admit you’ve learned a lot about the family’s business, and I admit your strategies are indeed vicious and ruthless. But since you’re the Tang Clan’s only grandson, how can you be so cold and merciless toward your own family? Can you convince yourself?”
Tang Thirty-Six said, “I’ll tell myself I’m learning from you. Isn’t the head of the Tang Clan supposed to be this cold and merciless?”
The Old Master Tang asked, “Then have you considered what would happen to the human race if the Tang Clan were destroyed?”
“I’ve always felt the Tang Clan’s biggest problem is narcissism.”
Tang Thirty-Six said, “As an individual, narcissism can increase charm to some extent—like me. But as a family, being too narcissistic is not a good thing, because it easily leads to overestimating one’s own importance, thereby making mistakes in negotiations with opponents. I hope you won’t make this mistake. The Tang Clan is not as the elders in those branches imagine—if it collapses, it won’t drag the entire human world down with it, causing all industries to fail, people to be displaced, and chaos everywhere.”
The Old Master Tang stared into his eyes and said, “But the question is, how can you be sure that situation won’t occur?”
Tang Thirty-Six said, “So what if it does? With me here, as long as the imperial court and the state religion don’t lose their minds, the chaotic situation will last at most a year and a half.”
The Old Master Tang’s gaze grew colder and colder, and he said, “But how many people would starve to death in that year and a half? Have you thought about that?”
Tang Thirty-Six looked at him quietly for a long time, then said, “I might have starved to death in the ancestral hall. Have you thought about that?”
At this moment, the Old Master Tang finally felt the threat.
Because what Tang Thirty-Six used to threaten him was the very thing he cared about most—the Tang Clan’s eternal legacy, unbroken through generations.
And Tang Thirty-Six had successfully proven that he possessed this ability, or at least the possibility of destroying the Tang Clan, and he was truly capable of doing it.
The Old Master Tang finally understood what the half-year in the ancestral hall had done to his grandson, who had once been carefree yet sunny and cheerful.
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“If you really do this, your memorial tablet won’t be qualified to enter the ancestral hall, and your name will be erased from the family genealogy.”
“On the first day the Tang Clan falls, I’ll burn down the ancestral hall. I’ve already lived there for half a year—do you think I’d want to go back in after I die?”
“What about the eternal infamy? Even if you’re buried in the Li Palace, when people pass your grave, they’ll spit on your tomb.”
“If I could crawl out of the grave then, I’d spit back. If I can’t, why should I care?”
“Does being the biggest prodigal son in history really mean that much to you?”
“It’s very interesting. Since you’re not planning to give me this family, what’s wrong with me ruining it?”
When people describe boldness, they often use phrases like “scattering a thousand pieces of gold and having them return.”
But being a prodigal son to this extent—that was true audacity.
“If you give me the Tang Clan, it will be mine, and I’ll guard it well. If you don’t give me the Tang Clan, then one day, I’ll make sure it’s ruined in my hands.”
Tang Thirty-Six looked at the old master and said, his expression serious, with no hint of a joke.
Clearly, the word “ruin” in his sentence carried two meanings.
The Old Master Tang looked into his eyes and said, “Perhaps I should have killed you from the start.”
Tang Thirty-Six said, “It’s not too late now.”
The Old Master Tang was silent for a long time, then said, “That makes sense.”
Chen Changsheng had been silent longer than the old master. He had barely spoken throughout, but now he finally opened his mouth.
He looked at the Old Master Tang, shook his head, and said, “No.”