Their hearts were filled with resentment—Ifthey could, they would beat him to death right then and there. But what could they do? They were only servants, and Wei Shìyīng could easily have them killed with a single command. Even if they wanted to run, their slave contracts were still held by the Wei family in the capital.
"What are you two fools doing lying in bed and sleeping while I'm still awake?" Wei Shìyīng snapped, his voice sharp with irritation. "Has my father sent a letter yet?"
He glared at the two male servants curled up on the bed. Their faces were ghostly pale, drenched in sweat, and their bodies trembled with fever—they were clearly burning up. Yet he seem not to realize that.
Wei Shìyīng got up from his bed and walked angrily toward one of the male servants lying nearby. With a sharp kick, he sent the servant tumbling to the floor. But the man didn't groan… didn't even flinch. His body lay there, stiff and motionless—like a corpse.
