"I am Mogushu. Someone offered me ten thousand gold to take your life."
Rong Qinglei poured himself a cup of wine and drank it in one swallow.
"I did not know my head was worth so much," he said lightly.
Mogushu poured himself a cup as well, drank it, and praised, "Good wine. Only Prince Qing can afford medicinal wine made from such expensive herbs."
"This broken body can only stay alive using medicine," Rong Qinglei said as he poured another cup and drank again.
There was a brief flash of sadness in his eyes, but it disappeared quickly, returning to calm.
"Prince Qing underestimates himself," Mogushu replied.
"Rumor says you control the entire treasury of Beirong and are as wealthy as a country.
Your so-called broken body is worth ten thousand gold, the highest price I have ever been paid."
He took out a piece of white silk and wiped the short sword in his hand.
"Thanks to your hospitality, I will let you die without pain."
