Blood State, Liangshan.
Above the hundreds of miles of water, a large six-story ship sailed across. Xiang Qianqiu, wearing a black robe, stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze deep and slightly heavy.
Although he was reluctant to admit it, the truth was evident. The bloodline he had previously disregarded as merely a pawn now far exceeded his expectations.
All his schemes had come to naught.
The opponent was no longer powerless but had almost reached the same level as him, although there was still a considerable gap in their true strength.
However, his influence had far surpassed his own.
The whole of Shuzhou had fallen into his hands, with over a hundred thousand troops under his command, and the numbers continued to grow rapidly. His fame had reached today's world peak.
To say "Who in the world does not know you" would not be an exaggeration.
In the Battle of Purple Gold Mountain, he was in the spotlight, and no one in the world could match him.
