As for the exact reason, even Meng Zhao did not know.
The so-called theory of destiny had come from Zhao Rulíng. It might have been because he had aligned himself with Meng Zhao, but one could not deny that his relationship with the Beitang Imperial Clan had never reached the point of being as close as one family.
Of course, from beginning to end, Meng Zhao had another thought: was Zhao Rulíng a spy, deliberately seeking to win his trust so that, at a critical moment in the future, he could deal him a fatal blow and assist the Beitang Imperial Clan in bringing him down?
Meng Zhao had never let down his guard. Only those who were simple-minded to the point of foolishness would leave themselves completely defenseless against Zhao Rulíng.
After all, Zhao Rulíng had been born into the Beitang Imperial Clan and was regarded by Beitang Sheng as an extremely trusted confidant, a man on equal footing with Yu Changkong. To take no precautions against him would be idiocy.
Presumably, Zhao Rulíng understood this as well. Thus, in their daily exchanges, they spoke more often of martial arts. Whenever specific affairs, or even matters concerning the Meng Family, were involved, he avoided them as though they were venomous snakes and savage beasts.
As for Meng Zhao occasionally revealing his disloyal ambitions, even his intent to stir rebellion—what a joke. Let alone Zhao Rulíng, who among Beitang Sheng and the many clever people could not see through it?
The difference lay only in a relationship of tugging and balance. Without absolute certainty, without ensuring that the situation would collapse in the desired direction, it was difficult to move against Meng Zhao. After all, pull one hair and the whole body moved.
With such thoughts in mind, Zhao Rulíng