บท 237: Planting The Blame (4)

At the Sixth Prince’s estate...

Pang Ran lay on his bed like a dead pig, letting maidservants apply medicine on his swollen red rear. The severe pain made him wail like slaughtered pig, and in his heart he cursed Pang Zihuang.

Mother of­­–could that jerk not have been a bit gentler? He thought angrily. It was as if he wanted to beat me to death! Am I even his biological child?

Amid his wailing, the bedroom door swung open. He jumped in fright, hastily pulling up his pants, and yelled at the people at the door, "You motherf*ckers! Can you not see that this prince has taken off his pants? Get out of my room!"

Hiss!

The intensity of Pang Ran’s movement pulled on the wound on his buttocks. He grimaced in pain, his mood even worse than before.