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"When your bones are crushed and your ashes scattered, do you think your Princely Heir status will be of any use?" Zhu Minglang just laughed.
Had it not been for the Zhu Gate's obligation to give the Royal Family some face, Zhu Minglang would have chopped Zhao Yin Ge into pieces and fed him to the dogs years ago.
But his royal status only allowed him to cling to life for a few more years—it didn't mean he could continue to live carefree!
"Zhu Minglang... we... our grievances have long been settled, and you know I'm just a lackey to An Qingfeng. You know who wants you dead, and there's no need for you to go to such lengths to kill me!" Zhao Yin Ge also knew what kind of person Zhu Minglang was. To mention those meaningless things would only hasten his own death.
"So tell me, what kind of information do you have that could be worth your life?" Zhu Minglang said.
