Wen Mohan raised his thin lips slightly and snorted, "Since ancient times, those who have achieved more than their masters have always had a tragic end. There's nothing strange about that."
Yun Jian nodded: "Yes, isn't that the case with the Jiang family? They..."
He shut up hastily in the middle of his speech.
But he had already said it, and a gaze as cold as an ice knife sent a chill down his spine.
Wen Mohan retracted his gaze and said in a cold voice, "The Jiang family brought this upon themselves. Who allowed them to collude with the bandits and kill my mother? My mother trusted him so much, yet she was tricked into going to a bandit's lair..."
He couldn't say any more. His heart felt like it was blocked by a stone, and the scene of his mother Liu Qinglian's tragic death emerged in his mind.
He was raped to death by twenty bandits in turn, his body was torn to pieces, his clothes were tattered, and he left this world in the most humiliating way.
Wen Mohan's brows were furrowed, filled with hatred, his fists were clenched so tightly that veins popped out and he was trembling slightly.
"Husband, how was your practice today?" Jiang Mengli's voice came from the courtyard gate.
He retracted his thoughts, his eyes shot out sharply, "What do you care? Get as far away as you can!"
The sudden roar startled Yun Jian and Yun Ying, and their hearts skipped a beat.
Jiang Mengli's smile faded, and he walked over with a frown, "Did I provoke you? Why are you yelling?"
Wen Mohan thought of his biological mother's death, and looked at her with hatred in his eyes. He said in a cold and stern tone, "Don't you want men? I'll give you a few more tonight. They must be strong men."
"Yun Jian, Yun Ying, what do you think of the princess? You should accompany her tonight, so that she won't come and pester me like a dog-skin plaster!"
Yun Jian: “!!”
Yunying: “!!”
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