After leaving the rear garden, just as Long Ao was preparing to leave, a young man approached him.
His face was cold and sinister, his expression as ugly as could be.
"Long Ao, you got lucky this time, but don't think for a second I'm going to let you go."
"Zhao Hao, you're the Empire's Third Prince?"
Unsure of what Long Ao meant, Zhao Hao nodded and retorted, "What if I am?"
A contemptuous smile touched Long Ao's lips. He said disdainfully, "And here I thought you were just some street punk. I had this idea that someone who looked so... patriotic, so dedicated, so full of integrity, would at least resemble a human being. But now I see I was wrong."
"You..."
Before Zhao Hao could say another word, Long Ao continued, "A worthless person suffers for a lifetime, while a worthless pig just gets the knife. For someone like you, living is a waste of air, and I'm sure dying would be a waste of land. Tragic. Truly tragic."
