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... new where he had gotten the recipes from. Everyone was surprised. Tang Muxin softly asked, “Dali, you collect recipes?”

“It was a good recipe that allowed me to squander.” Hong Dali replied calmly. “How could I miss such a chance?”

“O… okay…” Tang Muxin said helplessly.

At this moment, Chef Wei Bao pondered for a moment and said, “There should be no problem. Young Master would have to be more detailed, though, so the dish won’t be too far off from its original taste.”

“Yu ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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