The oil lamp in the room suddenly spattered. It was a good omen, but a frown crawled across Hong Sixiang's gray eyebrows. He seemed displeased. His wrinkled right hand firmly gripped the chopsticks he was using to grasp deep-fried shelled peanuts. With little movement, he slowly swallowed the peanut mush in his mouth, savoring their taste. He took another sip from his wine cup, and stood up.
"For many years, no one has wandered within the palace walls." Eunuch Hong's eyes were muddied, and he looked dispassionately out the window as he spoke in a low voice, his finger softly twitching.
The door was open.
Like two strong arrows, the chopsticks in Eunuch Hong's hands were thrown, filled with zhenqi. There were two whooshing noises. In a flash, the window broke, and they shot directly at the dark corner where Wu Zhu's face was!
