"Sister, I'm afraid..." Duanmu Qingyuan's little body couldn't help trembling, and her soft voice was filled with tears. She leaned tightly on Duanmu Qingwu's shoulder, her small palms were cold, "Where are my parents, why are we running?"
Duanmu Qingwu was a little calmer than her sister, but she was still only an eight-year-old child. She held back the tears in her eyes and hugged her sister tightly. Her little body trembled slightly, but she still pretended to be calm and comforted softly: "Qingyuan is not afraid. Sister maid is here, and I am here, we will definitely escape."
Even so, the sound of fighting getting closer and closer to her ears made the despair in her heart spread little by little. She vaguely remembered that in her sleep last night, it was her father's sad words that woke her up. He was covered in blood, pushed her and her sister into the arms of the maid, and only screamed at them to run away, never return to the capital, don't take revenge, and live well.
Before she had time to ask what happened, a huge fire broke out in the mansion. The men in black were armed with sharp knives and killed everyone on sight. The normally kind housekeepers, guards, and cooks fell into a pool of blood one by one. The bright red blood stained the bluestones in the mansion and was branded in the hearts of the two young girls.
Intention: emotion