Flayed Skin

"What's your name?" Meng Yu's eyes flashed, smiling gently.

The man looked at the charming man and gulped, "I-I am Zhao Fu."

"Zhao Fu? The name doesn't suit you at all." Meng Yu shook his head and released Zhao Fu. Withdrawing a silken handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the tip of his finger in disgust.

"Filthy... Your flesh is better off served for Ah Huang to eat." Meng Yu may have spoken lightly, but his words were sinister.

He had given a bloody order but spoken so casually that it was hard to reconcile it with the amiable front he presented. It was almost as if he were at the butcher ordering meat for his pet dog to eat.