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Late that night, Lu Maoxian stumbled through the gates of the estate.
The steward took one look at him and nearly swallowed his own tongue. "Master! Wh-what in heaven's name happened to you?!"
Lu Maoxian pointed at his cheek to show that he couldn't speak. Then he raised the stump of his severed arm and gestured frantically for someone to stop the bleeding.
The steward hurriedly called for a physician to treat Lu Maoxian's wounds.
***
Inside a hospital room at Yuezhou Third Hospital.
While He Haisheng stepped outside for a smoke, He Jiaqing pressed the button on his chest and contacted Ling Miaoying to ask about the situation.
On the other end, Ling Miaoying tried his best to reply in a calm tone. "Jiaqing, Lu Maoxian's matter has been dealt with."
"You didn't kill him, did you?"
"I didn't kill him," Ling Miaoying replied. "I only chopped off one of his hands, punched two holes through his face, and killed several of his men."
As he spoke, the muscles in his cheek twitched ever so slightly. It was the twitch of a man who had wanted very badly to do something much more satisfying and had been forced to stop halfway. The whole thing clearly sat in his heart like a fishbone stuck in his throat.
He Jiaqing praised him. "Well done. Spread the news that Lu Maoxian is severely wounded. Be careful during this time and watch for anyone trying to cause trouble. I will have people protect you in secret."
"Understood."
He Jiaqing ended the connection.
Ling Miaoying turned around to look at the film building, feeling another wave of irritation rise in his chest. He had poured immense effort and an enormous amount...
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