The way he saw it, Heather was the best of women and a goddess among men. With trillions of dollars to her name and the noble blood of the West in her veins, choosing her would be like choosing beauty, riches and status all at once. How could anyone measure up to the heights she had been to? Yun Muqing might be good-looking even by national standards, but ultimately she was just a commoner. Surely a man of sound mind—no, even an idiot would know who to pick, unlike Chu Feng. Heather, though, did not react and simply asked, “You mean I’m supposed to ruin his family?”

Old Henry said without missing a beat, “No, Miss Heather. What you desire should always be yours. It’s not that you’re ruining his family, it’s that this woman has no right to what you desire. Of course, if you don’t want to sully your hands, I can do it for you. I promise I will not leave a single trace.” He smiled delightedly, revelling in his supposed genius.

Unexpectedly, Heather sat and asked again, “Old Henry, how long have you served me?”

Old Henry quickly bowed in the Western way and looked at her with reverence, “Miss Heather, my family has served yours since my grandfather’s generation, for a total of 150 years. I, Old Henry, am honored to be your obedient servant.”


Heather stretched lazily and yawned. “150 years? How loyal of you. Alright, in consideration of this loyalty, I will spare you this time. If you ever harbor a single thought of betrayal against that Lord, don’t blame me when I take your life.” Heather shot Old Henry a glare that was as sharp and cold as a steel blade.

Old Henry shuddered and fell to his knees, “Never, never again. I beg your forgiveness.” In all his years of serving Heather, this was the first time he’d seen such a murderous aura emanate from her, and it terrified him to no end.

“Here’s another reminder for you—that man’s powerful enough to turn the Smith family to ash, and he cares about his family more than anything.” Heather shot him another apathetic glare, “Do use your brains and avoid offending him.”

“What?!” Old Henry gaped, thunderstruck. “T-Turn the family to ash? How is this possible?!” As the Smiths’ butler like his father and his father before him, Old Henry was well aware of how rich and powerful this 300 year-old family was. They even had a private armed security force, with the battle power that could compare to that of a small African nation. “W-Who is this man?!”

Heather’s expression became nostalgic. “Ashura.”

“Ashura? What Ashura?” Old Henry blurted out, then gasped when he caught on to her words. “The Ashura that single-handedly destroyed the Holy Temple and sacked the Western underworld?! The King of Hell, Lord Chu?!”
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