Gan Mingfeng listened, then instinctively raised his head to glance at Meng Zhao. What he saw was a pair of vertical pupils, purple and black divine light interwoven within them, stabbing his eyes with pain. Fear rose in his heart, and he hurriedly said,
"Rest assured, Dragon King. I will not make decisions on my own. I will definitely report everything Mu Yi does according to your instructions. As for training spies, I will also do my utmost."
Yet his heart had turned cold. When everyone had gathered, Mu Yi had voluntarily asked to join Meng Zhao's ranks. Meng Zhao had seemed exceedingly pleased and delighted, even generously stating that he was free to come and go, presenting himself as magnanimous and righteous.
But now, it seemed Meng Zhao was no magnanimous and righteous man at all. He was clearly thick-skinned and black-hearted. Far from trusting Mu Yi, he likely harbored some suspicion toward him, which was why he had ordered Gan Mingfeng to monitor him in secret.
Still, on careful thought, it was not impossible to understand. Putting himself in Mu Yi's shoes, if Gan Mingfeng's ancestors had left behind an immense legacy that Meng Zhao had inherited, how could he possibly feel at ease?
Fine, perhaps Mu Yi truly was broad-minded. But his identity meant he was fated to bear such risks.
Mu Yi himself likely understood this as well, which was why he had acted with such sincerity and kept his posture rather low.
Leaving Mu Yi aside, Gan Mingfeng, who had already been squeezed by both the Imperial Guard and Seven Star Tower until there was no room left for survival, did not truly wish to engage in this sort of spy work again. After all, his earlier years had been spent caught between the two,