The door to the room was locked again.
Zheng Baosu didn't even look up, continuing to eat the spoiled leftovers.
Suddenly, he froze. A sharp pain shot through his chest.
He frowned and pressed his hand hard against his chest, trying to ease the pain, but it didn't lessen. Instead, it grew even more intense.
Finally, with a lurch in his throat, he violently spat out a mouthful of blood!
CRASH—!
The bowl in his hands fell heavily to the floor, shattering with a sharp, ear-piercing sound!
The commotion immediately drew the attention of the Imperial Army stationed outside. They kicked the door open and swarmed in.
"What's going on!?"
The shouted question went unanswered. The scene before them, however, made everyone's heart leap into their throats.
Blood trickled from the corner of Zheng Baosu's mouth, his eyes bulging and his features twisted in agony. In the faint moonlight from the doorway, he looked like a vengeful ghost come to claim a life.
