At that moment, the hand that had once been slender and graceful was already a mangled mess of flesh and blood. As the stretcher swayed, the grass ring accidentally fell to the ground, rolled a few times, and came to a stop right by Shen Mo's feet.
One of the people carrying the stretcher looked back in confusion. "What was that sound?"
Shen Mo's eyes widened as he desperately covered his mouth, terrified that he would be unable to stop himself from crying aloud.
Yet his tears had long since slipped beyond his control. Like beads from a broken string, they rolled silently down his face, drop by drop, into the grass.
"Just go. What could it be? Don't tell me a dead person came back to life? How many has this been already this month? Wasn't it good enough to just stay alive? They just had to court death, and now we're short one top-quality piece." The servant carrying the stretcher spat, looking at the corpse in his hands with disgust.
Only then did the servant behind him turn back. He stuffed the fallen hand back in and complained as well, "Exactly. This time, she actually tried to assassinate Young Master. What the hell were these women thinking? Being chosen by Young Master wasn't that their good fortune? But let me tell you something quietly—I've heard she actually succeeded this time. Young Master was injured down there, and he might not be able to, you know, anymore!"
"Pah, pah, pah! Shut your mouth! If you want to die, I don't. You dare talk about something like that?" After glaring fiercely at the other man, he impatiently urged, "Hurry up and move. Fucking bad luck. Let someone else handle this in the future. I won't do it again even if