A deathly stillness hung over the small courtyard.
Chen Changsheng had met Zhou Tong before, and not only once.
However, this was his first real meeting with Zhou Tong.
His first meeting with the real Zhou Tong.
He gazed at Zhou Tong's pale cheeks, his lips that were as thin as knives, his official's gown that was crimson as blood, and he sensed an unimaginably frightening Qi. He felt like the scent of blood was growingly increasingly thick, as if it was real.
Finally, his gaze fell upon Zhou Tong's hands.
Those two hands were very slender, the fingernails trimmed flawlessly. They weren’t dirty in the slightest, much less stained with blood.
But he knew that these two hands had slaughtered countless members of the Chen Imperial clan as well as many of their loyal officials. And just who knew how many eyes he had plucked and hearts he had dug out from still-living bodies?