"Kill him?" Song Yun asked, somewhat surprised.
"Yes." The old man sipped his tea, expressionless, as if he asked Song Yun to kill not a colleague but a hen that wouldn't lay eggs.
"You've been in conflict with him for so many years and refused to touch him. Why do you want me to take drastic action as soon as I get back?" Song Yun squinted and asked.
"He couldn't die then."
"And now?"
"He must die."
Song Yun leaned back on the rosewood chair, looked at the handmade painting hanging in the center of the hall, pondered a while, then raised his head and asked, "When do I act?"
"Tonight."
Song Yun chuckled bitterly and said, "I didn't expect to be asked to kill as soon as I returned."
"He didn't expect it either."
"I just sparred with him. His skills have improved. I'm not sure I can take him down quickly. If he shouts, many people will rush in. Then it'll be impossible to act."
"So you need to be fast." The old man nodded approvingly.
