"Is there any of his medicine left?"
Xiuyi took Duke Locke's medicine box and looked inside, "There's enough for one more week. I'll prepare some more tomorrow."
"No need," Qian Xueying spoke coldly, "I've taken care of him long enough, and I've done my duty. Find some slow-acting poison for him, and let him rest in peace. It'll save us the trouble."
She was talking about a man's life and death, yet Qian Xueying's tone was as if she was merely commenting on a distasteful cookie that needed to be thrown away, as if the person lying before her wasn't a foster father who had shown her great love and raised her as a noble daughter, but just a despised dog.
"Yes, Miss!"
Xiuyi replied softly with his eyelids lowered.
Footsteps sounded outside, and Qian Xueying immediately hid her expression and turned her face to look at the maid who rushed in.
"Quiet down. Daddy has just fallen asleep; don't wake him."
