Duan Xu's cries grew weaker and weaker, while the red glow at the horizon grew brighter and brighter. The first rays of sunlight spilled over the peaks of the Ten Thousand Mountains.
Roosters crowed and dogs barked as the residents around Peach Blossom Alley were awakened one after another. Three rounds of screaming in one night—even the most even-tempered people could not help shoving open their windows and cursing at the top of their lungs.
But when those people arrived at Peach Blossom Alley with clubs and brooms in hand, all they saw were two heaps of mangled flesh, one large and one small, sprawled on the ground.
Wu Zhengzhong was barely clinging to life, while drool seeped from the corner of Duan Xu's mouth. He had clearly lost the ability to speak.
Most unbearable to look at was the hand that seemed to have touched some woman—its five fingers were broken and splayed across the ground in grotesquely irregular shapes.
And the foot that seemed to have kicked some beauty had been twisted completely backward.
"Tut, tut. What kind of grudge could lead to this?"
"You don't know this kid? He seems to be Jiang Zhongkun's prized youngest disciple from the Scale Python Martial Academy.
"Ai, to end up like this... how miserable!"
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock!
"Coming!" Duan Xin's crisp, pleasant voice came from within the Duan Family's old courtyard, followed by the patter of her lively, light footsteps.
The moment she opened the door, Duan Xin froze. The person standing before her was none other than her eldest nephew, Duan Xuan, whom she had not seen in a long while.
Duan Xuan carried two paper-wrapped bags of steamed soup dumplings in his hands. Steam billowed out, and their savory fragrance filled the air.
"Xuan'er, why is