Ning Zhiyuan was trying to suppress Wang Meng with his considerable influence, using his authority to force him to submit. He was relying on the prestige he had built over many years, leveraging his off-stage status to apply pressure on the stage. Aside from a few outliers like Zhang Xiaopang, everyone was expected to fall in line.
However, he was up against Wang Meng.
Wang Meng's smile was lofty and superior, holding the sort of fond appreciation an elder might have for a junior.
He was an Elder.
If someone wanted to show off, to put on airs, then he'd be happy to indulge them.
Wang Meng suddenly spun around without even glancing at Ning Zhiyuan and thrust his arm into the air. The suppressed disciples of the Lower Three Halls instantly found an outlet for their emotions, erupting in a thunderous cheer even more ferocious than the last.
