"You..."
Yan Zhicheng turned his head halfway around with difficulty.
There stood a black-robed man with a monkey mask, somehow already behind him.
Cold, chilling light gleamed within the scarlet eye sockets of the monkey face.
That killing intent made one's heart shudder.
"Officer Yan, why can't you understand plain human speech? Didn't Doctor Lu want to treat the patient? Then let him treat her.
You hauled him away without asking black from white—who was going to cure my illness then? You?"
Lu Wu-bing chuckled, rasped out a sentence, and casually drew his longsword. Blood sprayed wildly.
As Officer Yan slowly crumpled, he shook his head and looked at the dumbstruck crowd around him. Pointing at his own head, he smiled. "That's right, I'm sick. Very sick...
Whenever it flares up, I just love killing people."
"Master, Master, save him quickly... If Officer Yan dies, this will become a huge affair. It'll be disastrous!"
The resident physician of [Hall of Returning Spring] went as pale as death. His white beard trembled violently as he grabbed Lu Changfeng, who stood frozen in shock, and wailed.
"Pfft..."
A flash of cold light swept past.
The blood-stained sword had already pierced his throat.
Lu Wu-bing let out a long breath of foul air and said coldly, "Earlier, Doctor Lu said he wanted to save that woman who wasn't dead yet, but you kept prattling on about how she was practically dead already, how no one could guarantee they could save her. You pinned that blame down tight and firm.
And now? Officer Yan is about to die, and you look as miserable as if your own father had died. Now you remember to call for your master to save someone? What were you doing earlier...
I really can't figure it out. [Hall of