The cold rainwater mixed with sticky blood meandered along the cracks of the bluestone slabs and merged into the shallow depression in the center of the courtyard, dyeing the reflected waning moon into a dirty scarlet.
Lin Mo leaned against the cold pillars of the ancestral hall, his chest rising and falling violently, and every breath pulled at the bone-deep wounds under his ribs. The smell of blood was so strong that it couldn't be dissipated, mixed with the smell of rain and earth, straight into the nose. His vision went dark, and the edges of his vision were scattered limbs and broken arms. Those faces that were alive not long ago were now only empty and dead.
His father's eyes widened before he died, his mother's chest was pierced, and his little sister's thin and silent figure huddled in the corner... Were like red-hot irons, burning hard on his soul.
The shouts of the pursuers came from far away, and the clatter of footsteps broke the dead silence of the rainy night. The halo of the torch swayed in the rain, like a ghost seeking life.
"That little bastard can't run far! Search! Dig three feet into the ground to find him!"
