Compared to the many formidable figures within Lingwu City, who attached immense importance to Meng Zhao's almost godlike skill, Zhang Zhichong and the few Innate Masters of Howling Wind Hall not far ahead were even more shocked by the contents of his words.
Eight major crimes and twelve minor ones were nothing much, but the foremost of the major crimes was colluding with the southern Rebel Army—and it had been discovered and verified together with Yanping Commandery Prince's Mansion. That truly poked a monstrous hole in the sky.
Zhang Zhichong had always been proud. The color abruptly drained from his composed face, leaving it pale as paper. His hands behind his back clenched fiercely, crushing even the air in his palms soundlessly.
This showed that though stormy waves had risen in his heart, he still retained enough reason to suppress any abnormal reaction.
So, had they cooperated with Gao Yingzhong and Luan Xiaojie in the south, selling and transporting supplies to them?
They had. Howling Wind Hall had not been doing it for long, but they had indeed made a massive profit from this business—profits so generous they surpassed the annual earnings of all Howling Wind Hall's usual enterprises combined. It was sheer profiteering.
But cooperation was merely cooperation. Their purpose had never been some damned overthrow of the Imperial Court. He, along with some of Howling Wind Hall's upper ranks, had simply wanted to make more money through it. There had been no other intention.
As for colluding with the Rebel Army and harboring treasonous designs, that was even more unrelated than a pole stretching eight lengths away.
Yet sometimes, what a person thought did not matter, nor did anyone else care. Others only cared about what you had done.
Actions were often more persuasive than words. That was