"Come in."
Anthony's weak voice came from the room.
Han Junyan pushed open the bedroom door and walked in. He saw Anthony propped up by high pillows, receiving an IV drip. His face was haggard and weak, a far cry from his usual vigor.
He secretly sighed, thinking how much Qing Muye truly loved Meng Jingwei. Simply because Anthony had drugged Meng Jingwei, Qing Muye had severed one of his hands.
"What's wrong?"
It was barely past breakfast, and Han Junyan had rushed over. Anthony didn't believe he had come to inquire about his health.
Han Junyan's expression was serious. He glanced at the doctor sitting in the bedroom, then at Anthony, making a gesture.
"You can leave. I'll call you if I need you," Anthony instructed the doctor.
The doctor rose, nodded slightly to Anthony, turned, and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Anthony turned his head, his gaze indifferent as he looked at Han Junyan, "Speak. What's happened now."
Han Junyan took a few steps forward and stood by Anthony's bed. He glanced at Anthony's severed hand, his brows furrowing slightly, and asked tentatively, "Have you found the culprit?"
The severed hand was Anthony's touchy subject.
After Han Junyan posed the question, Anthony's face immediately turned grim, his sapphire blue eyes brewing a tempestuous rage.
"Are you f*cking asking stupid questions? If I knew who the mastermind was, would I be here!"
In a fit of rage, Anthony grabbed a nearby cushion and threw it directly at Han Junyan.
Because the IV needle was in the back of his hand, his movement directly caused blood to flow back up the tube, the needle prick throbbing with pain.
Helplessly, he raised his right hand and used his mouth to pull out the needle from his hand.
The moment the needle was pulled out, bright red blood began to ooze from the needle hole. Anthony habitually raised his left hand to press on the wound, but when he lifted his hand, he only saw his arm wrapped in bandages.
At that instant, his face darkened, and fire erupted in his eyes, burning fiercely.
"Investigate, investigate for me, you must find the culprit, I will tear her into a million pieces!"
His voice gradually grew louder, finally ending in a roar.
Han Junyan's eyelids drooped slightly, a faint glint flashing in his eyes, "I think I know... who the real culprit is."
"Who?"
Anthony stared intently at Han Junyan, filled with hope.
He wished he could know the true culprit immediately, capture him, and have him dismembered.
"Qing Muye!"
Han Junyan spoke slowly, his words carrying weight.
Anthony, who had been full of anticipation, heard his answer and his face grew even more displeverly. As if being fooled, his anger flared, "What do you mean? If you can't find the culprit, you're trying to fool me with a dead man? Do I look that stupid?"
"Prince, please calm down," Han Junyan appeased him, then added, "I suspect Qing Muye is not dead. The funeral held in Lancheng was likely fake."
"Fake?"
Anthony's interest was piqued, and he sat up from the bed.
"You must have noticed the bodyguard named 'Iron Pillar' next to Meng Jingwei?" he asked.
"Inseparable."
"Yes, he's inseparable from Meng Jingwei. Although his appearance has changed considerably, he's likely disguised."
Han Junyan recalled something and continued, "Has the Prince ever seen Meng Jingwei's former appearance? When she first arrived in Lancheng, she was always wearing makeup, deceiving everyone, including Qing Muye."
Anthony indeed knew about this.
His tightly furrowed brows suddenly relaxed, "You mean, Qing Muye faked his death, then disguised himself as someone else to infiltrate the Hidden Tribe and stay by Meng Jingwei's side?"
"Yes." Han Junyan meant exactly that.