The Shen Clan.
The night wind slipped through the cracks in the window and brushed across the thick cashmere carpet covering the floor.
A man lay on a golden bed while a beautiful maid beside him held a bowl of medicine, carefully feeding it to him.
Once he finished the medicine, he waved impatiently. As though granted a pardon, the maid hurried out with the bowl.
The man was none other than Zhang Shaojiu, whom Zhou Chen had severely injured earlier that day.
With a creak, the door swung open.
A gloomy-looking man strode inside. It was Shen Ao. At the sight of Zhang Shaojiu, the darkness between his brows eased somewhat, and he asked, "Junior Brother Zhang, how are you feeling?"
Seeing that it was Shen Ao, Zhang Shaojiu propped himself up against the headboard and said coldly, "Not too bad. Just three or four broken ribs. I'll have to spend some time in bed."
At this, he seemed to recall how Zhou Chen had humiliated him in public that day, and intense killing intent suddenly erupted in his eyes.
Shen Ao chuckled at the sight. Walking up to the bed, he took a medicine box from inside his robe and tossed it into Zhang Shaojiu's lap. "Junior Brother Zhang, take a look at this."
Zhang Shaojiu paused, then opened the box. Inside lay a purplish-red pill.
His pupils contracted. "Could this be... an Ink-Spirit Blood-Restoring Pill?"
"You have a good eye, Junior Brother Zhang." Shen Ao nodded. "A single Ink-Spirit Blood-Restoring Pill costs a hundred or two hundred taels of silver. It's a supreme healing medicine. With this, your injuries will heal in just three to five days."
Overjoyed, Zhang Shaojiu hurriedly said, "Thank you, Senior Brother Shen!"
"Now, don't be so quick to thank me." Shen Ao