To put it less politely, Meng Chuan, Lü Yue, Zhou Hu, and the others—who among them had not ridden Meng Zhao's coattails all the way to their current level of cultivation?
Meng Yan was merely a bit lazy and a bit pragmatic, but he was also a man of true temperament. When it came to clinging to someone powerful, he made no attempt to hide it, which instead made him seem somewhat approachable.
Lü Yue and Zhou Hu in particular had not thought much of Meng Yan to begin with, yet hearing him praise their Young Master so highly, they could not help but feel a little closer to him.
The group left the room. Under the bright white moonlight, Meng Yan spotted Zhen Cheng at once, bound up like a zongzi. So this was the man who had looked after me these past few days, and pried the Heavenly Martial Wonder Book out of my hands?
Zhen Cheng was not blind either. He naturally saw the group coming out, and Meng Chuan was especially conspicuous. His towering, majestic frame made him seem like the Giant Spirit God reincarnated in the mortal world. Even without knowledge of martial arts, he exuded crushing pressure; much less with his surging, roaring aura, like the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers, waves of scorching heat rolling toward him.
"Third Young Master Meng, would you be willing to hear a word from me?"
This was the first thing Zhen Cheng had said since being bound. The person he was addressing was by no means one of Meng Zhao's subordinates, but Meng Yan.
He knew full well that falling into Meng Zhao's hands would lead to nothing good. Fortunately, they were still far from the Meng Family, and as Meng Zhao's cousin, Meng Yan should have some