Fleeing for Their Lives

The hour before dawn was the darkest. The Wen's old patriarch directed his clansmen as they harnessed twelve oxen to the carts.

The Wen clansmen also felt their way through the darkness, silently loading their baggage and food onto the ox carts.

They carried nine severely wounded men out of the houses and settled them onto the ox carts as well.

The old patriarch ordered, "The old, the weak, and the children, get on the carts. Anyone who can walk, take a weapon and guard the convoy."

Once everything was ready, the old patriarch turned and knelt toward the village, murmuring, "Ancestors, forgive me. Your descendants are powerless. We can only abandon the legacy you left us. We have no choice but to flee for our lives."

The clansmen behind him knelt as well, knocking their foreheads against the ground three times together.

The old patriarch rose and swept his hand forward. "Go! Make for the Old Ancestral Land." With that, he took the lead, guarding the side of an ox cart as he walked into the darkness ahead.

They hurried the ox carts along the road. After who knew how long, everyone was panting with exhaustion. Beside a mountain hollow, the old patriarch had no choice but to let them stop and rest.

A short while later, the old patriarch told his clansmen, "Once we're through this pine forest, we'll be safe. Give it all you've got. Let's move."

Without taking any more time to rest, everyone set off again, guarding the ox carts. The sky was already faintly light, and full daylight would soon arrive. They quickened their steps.

They had barely entered the woods when arrows suddenly shot out from among the trees. Everyone's faces drained of color. Someone up front shouted, "An ambush!"

The old patriarch roared, "Any man who can still move, guard the convoy and hurry!"

Most of those guarding either side of the convoy were white-haired old men. At the old patriarch's shout, they lashed the oxen to make them go faster.

Seeing the enemy about to surround them, the old patriarch smiled. "Old brothers, today we fight our last battle for our descendants. With you beside me, the road to the underworld won't be lonely."

The clansmen laughed heartily too. Just then, a little head poked out of an ox cart's window and cried, "Grandpa, get on!"

The old patriarch hurried after the cart. "Long'er, we don't know whether your father is alive or dead. From now on, you must lead the Lineage to greatness and avenge our fallen clansmen!"

Just then, a group of black-clad men appeared ahead, blocking the ox carts' path.

The old patriarch shouted urgently, "You old women, protect Long'er even if it kills you! I'm leaving our Long'er in your hands!"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and roared at the old men, "Old brothers, kill them! Whoever blocks our way dies!"

Under the old men's fierce assault, the ox carts broke through the crowd and raced onward.

Ignoring the blades striking his back, the old patriarch endured the pain and swung his saber, lunging straight at the black-clad men who were trying to pursue the ox carts.

The old men's reckless, life-for-life fighting left the black-clad men helpless for the moment. They could only watch as the ox carts fled farther and farther away.

A young voice rang out from a departing ox cart. "How dare you hurt my grandpa! Listen up, you people of the Kai! Sooner or later, I'll wipe out your entire clan!"

The old patriarch smiled. His long saber swept through the air with the fury of a tiger, stirring up a rain of blood.

His back had already been slashed open, flesh torn from skin, but he no longer felt a thing. He fought with no regard for his life. Turning, he kept swinging his saber at the crowd of black-clad men.

Old men kept falling around him, but the old patriarch's expression did not waver. He simply hacked madly at the black-clad men around him, heedless of his life, a smile never leaving his face.

The ox carts were still racing onward when an elderly woman with an air of authority shouted, "Throw everything off the carts! Staying alive comes first!"

Food and farming tools were tossed from the carts one after another, and the ox carts picked up some speed.

After they had run for a long time, the elderly woman's shout came again. "Anyone who can walk, get off!" Everyone, old and young, climbed down, but the ox carts still could not move fast enough. The elderly woman paced in frantic circles.

The boy called Long'er called to his little friends, and they all helped push the ox carts.

The elderly woman said to a young woman, "Long'er's mother, I'm afraid we won't make it. Take everyone and go on ahead. Look after Long'er. He's our only hope."

She handed the green staff in her hand to Long'er's mother. "This is the Lineage Matriarch's Scepter. From now on, you must help the Lineage grow strong and avenge us. Take good care of Long'er."

Hearing the elderly woman's words, the young woman broke into uncontrollable sobs.

"Grandma, let's hurry!" Long'er turned and called to the elderly woman.

The elderly woman smiled. "Be good, Long'er. Grandma will follow soon. Hurry on ahead."

Long'er cried, "No! Grandma, you have to hurry too!" His mother caught his hand and pulled him away.

Long'er's mother did not forget to urge everyone onward. With their lives hanging in the balance, she dared not delay.

Only a group of elderly women remained, each gripping a saber tightly. Watching their clansmen flee desperately into the distance, the elderly woman smiled calmly.