Ningtuo was like the King of Hell marking names on the book of life and death, sealing the fate of whoever he pointed at.
In just a few breaths, seven high-ranking officials were dead on the spot within the room.
The remaining officials stood frozen in place, holding their breath, not daring to utter a word.
Han Kang stood there, his head buzzing.
Because among the dead officials, three were from the Province Cabinet.
One of them was his immediate supervisor, someone he had to look up to with utmost caution.
Yet now, he had fallen just like a dead dog.
How could his heart not be filled with shock and fear?
Qi Yuan and that coquettish young lady were terrifying to such an extent.
"I suddenly feel like composing a poem," at that moment, Qi Yuan was struck by poetic inspiration, lost in thought, "The inner treasury burns to brocade ashes, the bones of nobles pave the Sky Street."
