"Heh, just because I know how to make bombs, you think you can frame me for planting one? Even if I asked the Peng Family's servant for phosphorus powder, so what? Can't I just be messing around with it for fun?" Duan Ziqing sneered, his handsome face pale with pain, yet his eyes looked playfully at An Yiqing.
"Of course not, I wouldn't frame you, Master Duan, just because of these things!" An Yiqing let out a cold chuckle, took a white paper from An Zhiyu's hand, and fiercely slapped it onto Duan Ziqing's face, "This is the test result of the bomb fragments; the fingerprints on it completely match yours, Duan Ziqing! Are you going to tell me someone used your fingerprints to frame you? Duan Ziqing, you think just because the bomb exploded, I can't find out the fingerprints?"
Duan Ziqing's expression changed, disregarding the pain on his scalp, he quickly took the paper and read it. His face grew darker, turning alternately red and white, a sight to behold.
