"When it comes to killing, you use your mouth. I use my hands." Fan Xian stood and glanced at him. "Think about it closely. If I kill you, will the Emperor have me pay with my life?"
After these words were said, He Zongwei fell silent. A moment later, he took a deep breath. A humiliated flush gradually appeared on his dark complexion.
Since entering the court, his path had been smooth. He had the Emperor's trust and favor, as well as his subordinates' high regard and respect. In front of the Duke, he was ridiculed and hardly tolerated.
He was already an official in the Hall of Governmental Affairs. Other than Fan Xian, no one else in court would speak to him in such a tone or threaten his life so openly. He Zongwei knew that in front of Fan Xian, there was nothing he could do. Putting aside such nonsense as imperial favor, based on the other party's blood relation to the Emperor, it was something he, as an official, could never hope to reach.
