"Please, Uncle, uphold justice for your nephew!" Sima Yan seized the moment to speak, dropping to his knees. "Some days ago, I took a group of guards into the outskirts to enjoy the spring scenery, where we encountered several villagers who collided with my carriage and dirtied my brocade robe. I did not wish to make a mountain out of a molehill. I merely wanted one or two copper coins from them, to teach them a lesson and let them understand propriety and law in the future, to hold them in greater awe. But at that very moment, your esteemed son descended from the sky. Without distinguishing black from white, he scattered the guards protecting me and even cut off my left arm. He kept claiming that he was rooting out evil and bringing peace to the people. Uncle, I only wished to teach those villagers some propriety and make them learn a lesson. How did that make me cruel and violent?"
"Nephew, rise first!" You Yun's face had turned somewhat green as he raised a hand. "From the sound of it, my unworthy son was indeed at fault. But as I said earlier, this is only your side of the story. I must ask my son as well. If it truly was his fault, I will certainly chop off his left arm and offer it to you as an apology!"
"Thank you, Uncle!" Sima Yan rose tremblingly, looking exceedingly weak. You Yun looked at Sima Yan's left arm and lightly bit his lip. He understood perfectly well that if an ordinary family's child lost an arm, then it was lost; perhaps it could never be regrown. But how could a child of a Confucian cultivator family simply remain maimed? Since the Sima family had not reattached Sima Yan's severed