Zhou Tong looked at the middle-aged man in front of him and laughed, his smile deep and unfathomable. "These were Madam Xue's exact words?"
The middle-aged man's expression was somewhat uneasy. "My wife has a hasty temper, but I don't think she would lie out of anger."
"Many thanks to the Lord Assistant Minister for coming to say this to me."
Zhou Tong's attitude was sincere, his eyes gentle.
But when Assistant Minister Wei of the Ministry of Rites left, his eyes very quickly turned cold.
Only a few days had passed since the events of that night. As one of the participants, he would naturally not forget.
Those loyal and devoted subordinates also would not forget.
To be more precise, the beginning of that night was that blade glow in the crabapple courtyard, his near-death at Chen Changsheng's hands.
If not for that blade, perhaps the situation might not have developed very differently, but the role he would have played in it might have been extremely different.
