Time flies to 1976. In the days without Ma Zhenren, Zhang Guozhong hung up sandbags and memorized the formulas every day, and never stopped. This was also Ma Zhenren’s last wish. He couldn’t even recite the formulas, so what could he do to carry forward Maoshan Quanzhen? When the Hong Kong businessman said this, Zhang Guozhong was also stunned. He had done nothing, so why did someone ask him for mercy? "Mr. Zhang, look at this…" Wang Zihao took out a piece of jade from his bag and handed it to Zhang Guozhong.