Zhang Lin saw Shen Zhiyao in a dark green qipao, her hair unbound and her hands empty of any weapon. She could instantly tell that this woman was from the Xuanmen.
'To come here so lightly equipped... she must be looking down on me!'
She sneered, "Little girl, don't think you're hot stuff just because you've learned a few tricks. Let me tell you, there's always someone better out there. If you know what's good for you, get out of here. If not, don't blame me for what happens next!"
Not only did Shen Zhiyao not leave, she walked further into the room.
She glanced at the sickly, listless man on the bed and sighed. "It must be agonizing to cling to life like this. For you, perhaps death would be a release."
Zhang Lin instantly flew into a rage. "Who gave you the right to wish death on my son! Say one more word of that nonsense and I'll tear your mouth off!"
With that, she grabbed a fruit knife from the table and lunged at Shen Zhiyao.
