As his friend, Yuan Bin genuinely cared for him. He did not want to see him coerced into submission by an evil force like the Pudu Cult, which was why he had thought to seek Meng Zhao's help.
Yet Niu Dali was also a man who understood propriety. Though his relationship with Meng Zhao was harmonious for now, it had not reached the point of complete trust, much less could he rashly make any decision on Meng Zhao's behalf. Thus, he asked with his eyes.
Meng Zhao was a clever man—how could he fail to see through Niu Dali's thoughts? Still, he hesitated inwardly.
His battle with the Pudu Cult's Dharma King today had only incidentally helped Yuan Bin. More importantly, he had needed a sufficiently formidable expert to gauge the level of his current cultivation. However, since he had already severely wounded the other party and severed one of that old monk's arms, they had surely forged an irreconcilable enmity.
In that case, he might as well use this opportunity to take Yuan Bin under his wing. After all, whatever the Pudu Cult could do, so could he.
The Pudu Cult wanted to exploit Yuan Bin's bloodline and status to scheme against the Yuan Family. He had no such ambition for the moment, but there was no harm in planting a chess piece first. Should an opportunity arise in the future, he could try his hand at it.
Thus, Meng Zhao gave Niu Dali a subtle nod, indicating his agreement.
Seeing that he had received a response, Niu Dali felt that Meng Zhao had only been willing to shoulder this pressure for his sake. A few more traces of gratitude and closeness arose in his heart.
This gratitude and closeness had often surfaced over this recent period. It had