After putting him back on the bed, Song Ting took a handkerchief, held Huaiyue's ankle, and gently wiped the bloodstains off his feet.

Huaiyue was ticklish and laughed as she tried to pull away, but Song Tingque wouldn't let go and whispered, "Don't move."

His voice had no intimidating power whatsoever, but Huaiyue indeed stopped moving and obediently let Song Ting do as he pleased.

The bloodstains had long been wiped away, but Song Ting was still not satisfied.

He lowered his head and kissed that snow-white instep, his sinister aura almost uncontrollable, yet his eyes were filled with tenderness and affection.

Does it hurt?

His lips lingered on the instep for a long time, and Huaiyue's ankle was a little sore from being pinched.

"I can't remember," Huaiyue said softly.

He bent down and pulled Song Ting up, cupping his face in one hand and touching the soft sword wrapped around his waist with the other, his eyes sparkling.

"But I remember every face that humiliated me, especially the adults' faces."

"Day and night, I dare not forget for a moment."

This was clearly a threatening statement, but Song Ting seemed to be bewitched and couldn't help but lean in and try to kiss him.

Huaiyue gently dodged, letting the kiss slip away.

Song Ting clenched her fist, and her heart sank into emptiness.

"My feet are very cold, I need to soak them in hot water to warm them up."

Huaiyue moved slightly and quickly pulled her foot out of Song Ting's palm.

After rolling onto the bed, he leaned back slightly and glanced at Song Ting.

"Xiao An will handle these matters; I wouldn't dare trouble you, sir."

Song Ting seemed not to hear her. "I'll be right back."

He first walked to the window, made a gesture towards the outside, and then walked out the door.

As the door closed, several men in black climbed in through the window, silently cleaned the room, and then quietly slipped out.

The whole process was very quick, and it was obvious that the person had done this kind of thing quite often.

The commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, second only to the emperor, truly possesses remarkable skills.

Huaiyue scoffed softly, the smile slowly fading from her face, her usually affectionate eyes turning icy cold.

A moment later, Song Ting returned to the room carrying a wooden basin full of hot water.

The water temperature was just right. Huaiyue leaned against the headboard, her snow-white feet immersed in the wooden tub.

The commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, who held the power of life and death over everyone in the world, knelt at his feet, picked up his feet, and carefully massaged them.

"How fortunate I am to have the honor of being served by you, sir."

He spoke with utmost trepidation, yet his tone was anything but polite, even revealing a hint of arrogance and contempt.

Song Ting lowered her head and did not refute.

Huaiyue leaned over, clung to Song Ting's shoulder, and gently breathed against his neck:

"Have those two in the palace ever received this kind of treatment?"

"..." Song Ting remained silent.

Huaiyue then let go of his hand, raised her wet foot, and kicked the man in the chest unexpectedly.

"Of course they are, aren't they? You... you're like their loyal dog."

Song Ting was caught off guard and kicked squarely, falling to the ground in a disheveled state.

Huaiyue braced herself on the bed with both hands, her soles resting against Song Ting's chest once more, her rounded, beautiful toes gently rubbing against him.

"Let alone washing their feet, you've done countless intimate and sordid things, haven't you?"

Song Ting's eyes trembled slightly. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but in the end, she said nothing.

"Lord Song, you are exceptionally handsome, and must be very much favored by that lady, which is why she entrusted her son and the entire world to you, isn't that right, Lord Song..."

He slowly raised his toes, and as he spoke, his foot was already pressed against Song Ting's Adam's apple.

The latter swallowed hard, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing rapidly up and down, and the artery on the side of his neck throbbing fast.

“Young Master…” Song Tingqing couldn’t help but reach out to grab that foot.

The latter quickly withdrew his hand, and Song Ting's palm barely brushed against the back of his foot, touching a slightly cool sensation.

Song Ting paused for a moment, then withdrew her hand, leaving a noticeable water stain on her palm.

It wasn't big, but the soft, wet touch still seemed to linger on his skin, gradually spreading a burning sensation that made his lungs ache.

His eyes darkened slightly as he looked up at the person before him. The latter, however, glared at him and gave him the impression that he should leave.

"There was quite a commotion today, I was terrified and want to rest. Please go back, sir."

Song Ting withdrew her gaze, propped herself up on her arms, and stood up: "Okay."

Zhang Lu learned of his son's death an hour later.

The prefect was in his study admiring the jade he had just acquired when the steward stumbled in, his face ashen.

"Something terrible has happened! Master, something terrible has happened!"

These words sounded extremely ominous, and Zhang Lu's face immediately darkened: "Bullshit! I'm perfectly fine!"

The butler almost fell to his knees: "It's the young master... something happened to the young master!"

At the time, Attorney Zhang didn't take the matter to heart. He knew his son's character all too well.

They've either robbed some young lady or young master, or beaten someone.

"What's with all this panic!" Zhang Lu stood up. "Come on, take me to see him."

The butler's legs went weak and he collapsed to the ground, unable to move. Zhang's expression hardened: "Could it be that he killed someone again?"

"..." The butler's lips trembled, unable to utter a word.

Zhang Lu took this as tacit agreement: "That little brat, didn't I tell him to tone it down a bit lately?"

"Something just happened in Suzhou, and that guy in Chang'an is still in Jiangnan. If you accidentally fall into his hands, even ten lives wouldn't be enough to kill him..."

“Master… Master…” The butler’s face was ashen. “Young Master… he’s dead…”

Zhang Lu stopped in his tracks and turned around abruptly: "What did you say? Say it again!"

Zhang Jingshu's body was placed in the main hall of the Zhang residence, along with the servants who were also brought back.

Broken walls and mutilated corpses littered the ground, while his wife was weeping bitterly in front of one of the bodies.

Upon seeing such a tragic scene, Zhang Lu's vision went black and he fell forward!

"Master!" Fortunately, the butler was right behind him and pulled him back in time.

Zhang Lu steadied himself and, with the help of the butler, walked to Zhang Jingshu's body.

Looking at his son's chest, which had been stabbed, his eyes turned bloodshot. "Who did this?"

The butler stammered, "It's...it's the Commander..."

Zhang Lu's pupils dilated sharply: "Who did you say...?"

The steward forced a smile and said, "It is... Song Ting, the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard."

Zhang Lu's face turned pale, and he almost fainted again, but his wife held his legs:

"Master! Master, you must avenge my son!"

"My son died a terrible death, sir! You can't let this go! You must avenge my son!"