The flash of light dropped straight from the sky, smashing through the tiled roof of the grand banquet hall with a deafening crash!
Tiles made of green glaze shattered into ten thousand pieces, raining down like sharp stones as timber beams snapped in half.
Smoke and dust blew outward in a violent circle, catching the flickering yellow lantern light.
Ye Hongyan arrived at the hall, and the very first thing she witnessed was slaughter.
Her boots hit the blood-soaked stone floor with a dull, heavy thud, her robes swirled around her ankles, the fabric catching the draft of hot ash.
The air inside the room was thick, sour, and disgusting. It smelled of spilled wine, vomit, burned meat, and hot, sticky blood that pooled around the legs of overturned tables.
She looked up, her eyes sweeping across the ruined pavilion.
Dozens of young cousins she had seen running in the yards when they were small were lying face down in the red puddles, their throats slit from ear to ear.
