Tian Jiushao wore a mask that covered most of his face, yet blood still seeped in from the edge of his eye socket.
The blood remained warm, winding its way down his cheek. A thick, pungent scent of gore invaded his senses, overwhelming his nose. For a fleeting moment, Tian Jiushao’s mind went blank.
He came from a great family and had grown accustomed to the dirty, underhanded tactics used by various branches of his kin during their infighting. However, as the highly anticipated eldest grandson of the direct lineage, he had been sheltered for over a decade, never once stained by the scent of blood.
Chapter 77