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... , um… Can you repeat yourself? I didn’t hear you clearly just now.”

Shen Qingyi turned over and sat up on the bed facing Chen An. She looked into his eyes and said, “Alchemist Chen, you take advantage of me every night in the name of massage. Are you craving my body?”

This question was too straightforward. Chen An did not know how to answer for a moment.

Seeing that he was silent, Shen Qingyi continued, “In the past, when 1 was in the Xuanhuang Sect, Master had always war ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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