"My Yi'er—" a middle-aged noblewoman collapsed backward upon hearing the news.
"Madam—" the servants hurried to support her.
Lady Duanmu's face contorted with pain as she opened her mouth wide but couldn't make a sound of wailing. Her pleading eyes fixed on Duanmu Qingsuang, who sat motionless in a chair like a wooden sculpture.
"Master—"
"A fine man, Wang Lan is, the son of the Flame Emperor... ruthless and vicious indeed... Truly ruthless and vicious! Yi'er merely had the intention; he hadn't even succeeded, yet you had to be so cruel!"
"Master, our son is dead, murdered! Won't you avenge him?"
"Of course, we must seek revenge, but we must wait for the right opportunity."
"Master, why not just fight it out with him? Haven't you always said that our Duanmu family is the number one family besides the royal family? Are we afraid of him? Even if the lineage of the Flame Emperor is powerful, are they not afraid of mutual destruction?"
