The "he" in his words naturally referred to Zhao Xiong, the Third Hall Master sent to "invite" Fang Yuan.
In his view, with Zhao Xiong's peak Second-grade Martial Artist strength, going to "invite" a martial arts school disciple who had only recently entered the ranks—
It should have been a trivial matter, as easy as taking something from one's hand. How could it have been delayed this long?
"Zhao Xiong, that old bastard, is getting more useless with age! He can't even handle such a small matter—what trash!"
Li Wuhen slammed a fist viciously into the window lattice, sending wood chips flying.
"That Fang Yuan... he's dead for sure!" He gritted his teeth, already plotting how to properly "entertain" the fellow who had displeased him once Zhao Xiong brought Fang Yuan here.
Just then, a burst of hurried, panicked footsteps sounded from the stairs.
The private room's door was cautiously pushed open a crack, and a pale-faced gang member shuffled in, trembling.
"Y-young... Young Hall Master..." The gang member's voice shook, and he nearly dropped to his knees.
Li Wuhen's gaze suddenly sharpened. "Speak! What is it? Did that useless old Zhao Xiong screw things up?"
The gang member shuddered all over under his stare, his teeth chattering as he stammered:
"N-no... It's... it's that the brothers just... just found Hall Master Zhao's... body beneath the arched bridge on East Street..."
"A body?" Li Wuhen's fingers, tapping against the window lattice, abruptly froze.
The private room fell into dead silence.
Only the faint howl of wind and snow drifted in from outside the window.
After kneeling there for quite a while without hearing any response, the gang member gathered his courage and slightly raised his head.
Li Wuhen was still standing by the window with his back to him, his