Tianlong slapped him. Open palm, backhand, casual as swatting a fly. Shen Mu's body spun, hit the wall, and dropped. He coughed — a wet, rattling cough that sprayed blood across his chin — and looked up from the floor, trembling.
Not from pain. From rage. From the helplessness. From the realization that he had just handed Tianlong the exact leverage he needed.
'Damn it. Why did I say that? Why did I bring up my sisters? I gave him the idea. I — I literally told him the one thing he could use against me. Fuck. FUCK.'
His eyes went to the three bodies on the floor. The guards. The dead guards who had been joking. The ones who had said "clapped for him." The ones who had planted the seed of his rage.
'You two,' he thought, glaring at the corpses. 'You two bastards. You put this in my head. Your stupid joke made me believe it, and now I've gone and told Tianlong he can use my sisters against me. Dead, and you're still ruining my life.'
