Chapter 13: Anger must avoid old, your bloodkin shall remain cold.
Just a breath later,
Yanyu returned with light steps, eyes hopeful as she carried a tray with a steaming jade teapot, the delicate aroma of Spirit Tea wafting gently with each of her movements.
"Holy Son, your tea—" she began, her voice sweet as ever, yet, the words froze in her throat unable to comprehend the scene before her.
Tinnggggg!!!
The tray clattered to the ground, cups shattering like dreams on polished spirit stone.
Her gaze fell upon the swing.
Upon the dead body.
Fatty Wang's headless corpse sat unnaturally upright, the swing still swaying with a slow, ominous creak.
His severed head lay nearby, eyes wide in confusion, lips parted as if still mid-smirk.
Blood had pooled beneath him, a gruesome crimson lotus blooming beneath the swing.
Yanyu stood paralyzed.