Han Lei nodded, a strand of hair falling over her forehead. Zhao Zun subconsciously reached out to brush it away for her but stopped midway, drawing back his hand into a fist by his side.
"Mr. Luo," Han Lei turned to Luo Hai, her voice as light-hearted as if discussing the weather, "it seems you can now take people to confiscate Wei Dabao's home. Those gold and silver assets are enough to support the porridge sheds for another three months, and the land can also settle many disaster victims."
Luo Hai wiped his face, unaware of the porridge stains on his beard: "This... isn't this too..."
"Too what?" Zhao Zun suddenly laughed, a smile that reminded Luo Hai of a sharp sword unsheathed, "With irrefutable evidence of treason, confiscation and extermination of the family is justified. Or has Mr. Luo suddenly become soft-hearted?"
