Watching the head roll around on the ground, Song Qingshu said calmly, "You overestimated your own importance."
The reason he had not killed Wan Gui earlier was, first, that killing him outright would have been too easy on him. It was better to let him suffer a little more punishment. Second, the timing had not been right. Song Qingshu had not wanted to give Southern Song an excuse to send troops at the critical moment of his showdown with Li Kexiu.
Now that the overall situation had been decided, there was naturally no need for so many concerns. No matter how much Wan Qixie favored Wan Gui, he was still only a concubine-born son. How could he influence the court's political decisions? And even if he had been legitimate-born, it would not have mattered. Wan Qixie himself would soon be unable to protect himself.
Originally, after hearing how viciously he had spoken and thinking of Di Yun's grudge, Song Qingshu had planned to sell Wan Gui to a male brothel to serve the black uncles there. With his delicate skin and pretty-boy looks, he would surely have become a top draw.
But the thought of that scene was too disgusting. Then Song Qingshu considered that leaving behind an enemy filled with hatred and skilled in schemes was dangerous. Who knew whether he might encounter some fortuitous opportunity and return for revenge? Song Qingshu was naturally not afraid of him, but he had so many beloved women around him. He could not risk their safety.
Perhaps because he had watched too many television dramas in his previous life, he knew that villains often died because they talked too much and overplayed their hand. He could not repeat that mistake.
"Brother Di, I avenged you." Thinking of the honest and simple Di