Rong Jing slowly regained his composure, staring at the distant figure clutching a corpse, his gaze lowering to the blood-stained dagger on the ground.
The blood was flowing out of his own body.
It had been so many years, yet he was injured.
Miao Ci shivered, not daring to speak.
Rong Jing covered his wound, blood seeping drop by drop through his fingers, his voice deep, words devoid of emotion and restraint:
"Take Gu Lan to the dungeon, let her suffer all seventy-two forms of punishment. Make sure she doesn't die by accident, so when Rong Heng returns to the capital, I want her to die in front of him—"
Finishing this sentence, Rong Jing blacked out and fainted.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Where is the Imperial Physician, why aren't they here yet!" Miao Ci supported Rong Jing, shouting loudly.
Besides Miao Ci's Inner Supervision subordinates, Zhang Fengcai also arrived with a group, followed by several short-breathed Imperial Physicians.
