Zhao Rong smiled and turned his head to look at the two men who were staring at him in surprise.
Zhao Rong shrugged his shoulders, winked at Lin Wenruo, and his mouth curved into a smile, "Wenruo, the position of the lower horse is very important; I don't trust you guys with it, I'll take care of it myself."
Lin Wenruo opened his mouth to say something, but seeing the young scholar before him smiling and shaking his head, he could only give up and nod helplessly with a smile.
In fact, in Lin Wenruo's plan, the opponent's lower horse was Qing Yuanzi. Whether it was Zhao Rong or Chen Muzhi as the middle horse, both could almost certainly defeat him. He chose Zhao Rong because he felt closer and more reliable to him; however, since Zhao Rong did not want to be it, he had no way to insist.
Lin Wenruo pondered for a moment, then turned to Chen Muzhi, who was staring at him, "Then I must trouble Brother Muzhi to be the middle horse, please forgive me."