Ning Xiaoxian's face darkened. She initially saw these children, poorly dressed but with shifty eyes, clearly clever kids from impoverished families, and she hadn't intended to mind their stealing. However, when these little brats pulled out weapons, ready to take lives at the drop of a hat, a weaker woman might really have met her end here.
The child with the pottery knife had not yet struck his target when everything spun around; the knife disappeared, and he found himself on the ground. The woman held the eldest child in one hand, her foot on his chest, with a flicker of cold light in her eyes. He was all too familiar with that cold light; it was the same light in Master Chen's eyes when he came to their home to collect debts, after which his parents had hanged themselves.
