Shang Rong, the butler of the Su Mansion, was standing guard at the entrance. The moment he heard the horrifying laughter, he immediately led his men inside.
But by the time they rushed over, they were half a step too late, catching only the blurred afterimage of the heavy Taishi chair as it was hurled through the air.
Su Fengyue watched the chair fly straight toward him. His eyes widened in terror as he scrambled to his feet to dodge.
But age had slowed his reflexes. The back of the chair still slammed into his head just above the brow bone, the force of the impact sending him sprawling to the ground.
Shang Rong rushed to his side, asking anxiously, "Master, are you all right?"
Su Fengyue clutched his right brow, his head swimming. Dark red blood seeped from between his fingers, running down the back of his hand and into the sleeve of his official's robe.
The Su family's servants swarmed in, surrounding Prince Yong.
"Get out of my way!"
Zhao Minghong bellowed.
