The Ancient Battlefield (Please Subscribe)

Song Zhiwen said nothing more. He merely nodded, then turned and quickly left.

Only after he was gone did Liang Muqiu approach with graceful steps, her long, shapely legs carrying her to Meng Zhao's side.

Today, she wore a light red Phoenix Bird Skirt. The two towering mountains on her chest were stretched taut beneath a red bandeau, her skin fair and tender, her fiery figure displayed without reservation. Unfortunately, she wore a veil. Its Cloud Concealment Mist-like effect made it difficult for others to glimpse her true face, greatly diminishing her allure.

After all, there was no shortage of women whose backs made men want to commit crimes, but whose faces made them want to defend themselves. Her act of concealing her appearance with a veil also suggested a lack of confidence, inevitably making people suspect that she was another woman with a devil's face and a devil's body.

"Meng Zhao, how was it? That was Song Zhiwen. How did your talk go?"

The two had spent quite a long time together. Though they had not fully pierced that final layer between them, they had already formed an unspoken understanding. Meng Zhao's trust in Liang Muqiu and the other two women was no less than his trust in Lü Yue, Han Pu, and the rest.

Hearing this, he recounted his conversation with Song Zhiwen and the information they had exchanged, wanting to hear Liang Muqiu's thoughts as well. Aside from being the woman he had chosen to share his pillow, she had once been the Eldest Brother of the Seven Freaks of Minshan, renowned throughout an entire prefecture. She naturally possessed insight and methods of her own. Ever since arriving in Lingwu City, she had often helped him shoulder the pressure and stabilize the situation—a truly worthy inner helper.