Yang Ming chuckled and cursed, "To hell with nobility, I just want to save my family."
"To hell with nobility," the old man Sang Mu said gently, "I just want our genes, passed down from over ten thousand years ago, to continue to be inherited, that's all."
Yang Ming said, "Talking about bloodline preservation in an interstellar civilization is actually quite unscientific. Genetic material cannot be perfectly replicated."
"Even so, there are things that can be passed down," Sang Mu said, "such as history, beliefs, culture, and the spirit unique to our people, woven from these three. Maintaining this national spirit can help individuals here better find a sense of identity, don't you think?"
Yang Ming laughed, "Talking with you is really comfortable, although I know you're just wary of my destructive power."
Sang Mu sighed, "The current situation really makes me feel a strong crisis, are you the commander of this imperial fleet?"
"Yes."
