Having made up his mind, Dai Yueheng walked toward Huo Yuhao.
The two stopped three steps apart.
Dai Yueheng did not beat around the bush, exchange pleasantries, or even put on his usual polite fake smile.
He stared at Huo Yuhao, his tone calm yet carrying a certainty.
"Huabin is already dead, isn't he?"
Dai Yueheng paused, then took another half-step forward, his voice low.
"You killed him with your own hands."
Not even the slightest ripple appeared on Huo Yuhao's face.
He met Dai Yueheng's gaze and even let out a soft laugh.
"So what? What are you trying to say?"
"You shouldn't have killed him."
Dai Yueheng shook his head and emphasized the point.
"Then are you going to avenge him?"
"Are you going to kill me?"
Huo Yuhao stepped forward provocatively, but Dai Yueheng instinctively retreated two steps, even bumping into Zhu Lu behind him.
Seeing Dai Yueheng's hypocritical display, Huo Yuhao gave a scornful laugh, utterly disdainful.
Clearly, his years-long habit of weighing pros and cons still made Dai Yueheng instinctively unwilling to clash with Huo Yuhao.
In truth, he did not think a dead piece of trash was worth doing this for.
But then he recalled what Dai Hao had written in his letter. Gritting his teeth, he straightened himself once more.
He stared at Huo Yuhao and spoke word by word.
"Even if Huabin became trash, he was still a member of the White Tiger Duke Mansion. No matter what, White Tiger blood flowed through his veins!"
"He should not have died by your hand!"
Dai Yueheng paused before continuing in a grave tone.
"Every drop of White Tiger blood is precious."
"White Tiger blood?"
"What bullshit!"
Hearing Dai Yueheng's words, Huo Yuhao held his forehead, finding it utterly ridiculous.
He pressed hard on