"Understood!"
Chang Zifa nodded.
That night, Chang Ziru stared in terror at the masked man standing before him, utterly petrified.
"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
"You don't know who I am? Of course, I'm Xiao Chen. I didn't kill you that day simply because I didn't want to stir up trouble. Now, you're gravely ill; even if you die here, no one will suspect a thing!"
The masked man plunged a syringe into Chang Ziru's IV drip.
No one knew what drug was injected, but Chang Ziru's body trembled all over, his complexion turning a sickly blue.
The next moment, the masked man smashed a flower vase in the hospital room.
Then, he climbed out the window and fled.
Soon, doctors and nurses rushed in.
Chang Ziru was on the brink of death. In his last moments, he weakly called out one name, "Xiao Chen! Xiao Chen!"
And then, he breathed his last.
"Quick, call the police!"
The doctors attempted to resuscitate him while dialing for emergency assistance.
