In Gan Mingfeng's view, this was fate. As the saying went, when the time came, even Heaven and Earth lent their strength. Once fortune arrived, even a Peerless Prodigy like Meng Zhao would have to retreat three paces. It was not impossible for him to rise later and surpass those before him.
Even if he still could not defeat Meng Zhao, gaining the power to control his own fate should not be a problem.
Perhaps it was some peculiarity of his own that gave him the feeling that he was special. Thus, he began to think that he was capable again—that he did not need to rely on Meng Zhao, or on anyone else, and could live very well on his own.
Of course, he only dared entertain such thoughts in the depths of his heart. He did not dare reveal the slightest hint of them before Meng Zhao.
After all, before Meng Zhao, he was currently just a minor character at another's mercy. If he started leaping about before obtaining an opportunity and strength, he would clearly be forcing Meng Zhao to deal with him.
On the contrary, so long as he continued to endure in silence, with his own special qualities and the favor of some will in the unseen, breaking free of Meng Zhao, successfully obtaining an opportunity, and greatly increasing his strength should only be a matter of time.
Meng Zhao did not know of the turmoil in Gan Mingfeng's heart, nor did he care. The human heart was unfathomable; no one could precisely control it, not even someone like him.
Still, there was no need for him to control such things. What people thought in their hearts was unimportant. Whether they could actually do it was what mattered most.
"Before going up, we must first