Today was bound to be an unsettling day for Xujing, despite its outward prosperity.
See?
At almost the exact same time that a certain young master Han was leisurely enjoying breakfast at the Qin residence, the noisy Prince Xin's estate was receiving an unexpected visitor. Steward Wang, the enemy whom Mo Caihuan had once hated to the point of gritting her teeth—the sect master of the Five-Colored Sect—hurried to the heir's room and pushed the door open, striding inside.
"!!"
"Everyone, leave!"
After taking one look at the Prince Xin's heir, who was in such a terrible state that not a single part of him was uninjured—his face still bruised and swollen, one eye puffed out of its socket, and reportedly so badly beaten that they had nearly failed to save him—Steward Wang irritably waved away the maids attending him.
"..."
Only then did he walk expressionlessly and without a word toward the bed.
He suddenly reached out and whipped the embroidered silk quilt off the heir. Frowning, he stood beside the bed and looked down coldly at the man lying there, groaning softly, not a single part of his body uninjured.
"Hmph!"
"All right!"
After a long while, he glanced at the closed door, then focused his senses on the area outside. Once he was sure nobody dared spy or eavesdrop, Steward Wang finally spoke in a low, scolding voice to the heir on the bed.
"Stop pretending. There's no one else here now. I know you're not dead yet."
"Tell me."
"What happened?"
Word that the heir to Prince Xin's estate had nearly been beaten to death and left beside a chamber pot had already spread throughout the capital. By now, nearly everyone in the city had probably heard about it.
To be honest, when he'd first received