"Young Master! B-Bad news! The Pure Fragrance Cult people are here again!"
The Zhao Residence gates were blasted violently to the ground, kicking up clouds of dust.
The old steward had spotted Yang Xian and his men heading toward the Zhao Residence long ago. He was now rushing frantically into the courtyard, hoping to send word to Zhao Xiu.
Zhao Xiu had just reached the front courtyard when a cold glint flashed through the air.
Pfft!
An iron skewer easily pierced through the back of the old steward's head, its tip emerging from between his brows.
The old steward staggered several steps, called out, "Young Master," to Zhao Xiu, then collapsed.
"Uncle Fu!"
Zhao Xiu's eyes widened in fury, grief surging through his heart.
Ever since he could remember, Uncle Fu had been the Zhao Residence's steward. He had watched Zhao Xiu grow up and was no different from a real uncle.
After the incident, eighty percent of the Zhao Family servants had been dismissed, yet Uncle Fu had remained.
Zhao Xiu had planned to arrange for Uncle Fu to retire once this matter was settled. Instead, he had died right before his eyes.
He nearly ground his teeth to pieces, but could only force down his fury and look at the people who had stormed into the courtyard.
"Yang Xian! Didn't we agree the Bone Sculpting Pill would take about a month? What is the meaning of this?"
A sinister smile appeared at the corner of Yang Xian's lips.
"Zhao Xiu, do you really take me for a fool? Did you think I didn't know what you've been doing lately?"
"The Bone Sculpting Pill formula is in my hands anyway. I came today to wipe out your Zhao Family!"
Yang Xian's two sentences shattered the last shred of hope