One had to know that Meng Zhao's subordinates were also divided by closeness and distance, ranked into every grade and class. Beitang He absolutely did not want the Yanping Commandery Prince's Mansion to end up with nothing but scattered feathers and broken eggs. At the very least, at the very least, it had to become a banner Meng Zhao could proudly display among his forces.
On careful thought, the Yanping Commandery Prince's Mansion did possess strength. Unfortunately, it lacked top-tier martial artists capable of playing a decisive role; it fell just a little short.
Perhaps what Meng Zhao valued most about them was the banner of the Beitang Imperial Clan.
At that thought, Beitang He felt somewhat uneasy. Put nicely, he was recognizing the times and acting as a wise man should. Put harshly, he was forgetting his roots and using the imperial status his forebears had fought for as a stepping stone for his own advancement.
This was too great a matter for Beitang He to decide on his own. After turning it over and over in his mind, he finally laid everything bare before Beitang Ang.
Father and son now shared glory and ruin alike; even their lives and deaths were bound together. There was nothing they could not say to each other.
After hearing him out, Beitang Ang finally let out a breath of relief and said,
"Good. Since you have made your decision, your father will certainly support you with all his strength. Nor should you feel that you have betrayed the imperial clan.
"To speak honestly, we father and son were long ago cast out from the heart of the imperial clan and sent to Lingwu City to fend for ourselves. Heh, were we supposed to remain grateful and wag our tails, begging for pity?"