Red marks from finger imprints appeared on Zhong Yi's fair skin.
His eyes were filled with cold frost, a hint of chill flickering through.
Zhong Lingxiao stood up and walked to him, looking down on him and said, "How does this slap feel?"
"You went through all the trouble to plant so many bodyguards in the old house and sent Wan Jiang away. Just to give me a slap in the face?" Zhong Yi looked at him mockingly, "Is your mind so petty? It's truly surprising, like a woman."
Zhong Yi's words further provoked Zhong Lingxiao, he kicked the wheelchair.
"You can only talk now. The old master said there is nothing for you on the ninth day of the new year. By then, when I become the heir, all the business of the Zhong Family will be taken over by me. You can just roll back to your countryside, otherwise, I'll definitely end you in the Imperial Capital."
"Oh? Haven't you calculated against me enough times?"
