My name is Wu Jiuluan. Now, I am watching my adoptive father lying in a pool of blood.
The hoofbeats of the Beidi cavalry were like drums, hitting the dilapidated door panels of the Taoist temple. The old man was holding the rusty hatchet and blocking me behind him. His rickety back was straight at the moment.
"Jiu Luan, hide!" He growled, his voice hoarse, but with unquestionable determination.
