Though Gou Shuping was not showing off, his words inevitably carried a sense of smug satisfaction.
In the past, among the experts and powerhouses upon this ritual altar, not a single one had thought highly of him, nor had anyone cared about him. They had not exactly regarded him as no better than pigs or dogs, but the taste of being ignored was never pleasant.
Yet today, he—a man of mediocre martial arts and unremarkable looks—had become the hero who saved everyone. If he did not feel proud, that would have been the strange thing.
Only now did everyone suddenly understand why Meng Zhao had said that his blessings reached the heavens, and that misfortune turned to fortune whenever it found him.
It was simply because the coincidence was too absurd.
First, a man whose martial arts were nothing outstanding had happened to be brought by Xiang Qing to the site of this decisive battle between the two sides.
Second, even after arriving, Gou Shuping had not fled in fright. Instead, he had quietly hidden in the shadows until Meng Zhao appeared. Of course, that might have been Meng Zhao's arrangement, so it could be disregarded.
The key was the third point. This very fellow of mediocre martial arts possessed a spirit beast that could burrow through mountains and earth, and it happened to be the nemesis of the Thunderbolt Children lying in ambush throughout the mountains.
And another coincidence: before this, Gou Shuping had already been subdued by Meng Zhao and was exceedingly obedient.
All these coincidences and accidents had become the very factors that allowed Meng Zhao to utterly defeat the Death Thunder Guards. It was impossible not to let people's imaginations run wild.
Could it be that this man truly possessed towering fortune? When the time was