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The Perfect Family

Liu lay down with his head in his mother's lap, the gentle sound of her voice soothing his ears. Her tone was grave, and she had a sad expression, but being cradled in her warm embrace was more than enough to calm him.

Even though he was much older than his five-year-old body suggested, the comfort of his mother's touch could make him forget all his troubles.

Here, he was safe. He could not struggle or fight. His body was still, and his mother's hands trailed through his black, unkempt hair.

"Why did you hit them, Liu?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm.

"T-they were making fun of my name… and my face. Just like they always do…" Liu murmured, his cheeks turning pink as he looked into his mother's beautiful eyes. There was something about her that tore away all his defenses.

In his previous life, Liu had never known the comfort of a mother or a parent figure. He had always had to struggle for as long as he could remember. But this new life had brought him something far greater.

"But you promised you'd show restraint," his mother reminded him, her fingers brushing through his hair and tickling his rough skin.

"I—"

"Didn't you promise me, Liu?"

The last bit of tension left his body as his mother's fingers worked their magic. He could feel his strength ebbing away, and his gaze became as weak as a lamb's.

"I… showed restraint…" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nothing about him felt threatening at this point. He was just a boy, seeking the love and comfort that only a mother's touch could provide.

"Pfft. You did?" His mother's voice gave a short burst of stifled laughter that caused Liu's face to redden even more.

"I... I did, really," he replied, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable under her scrutiny.

"Oh, no need to convince me, my dear. I've always known you to be a good boy," she said, her gentle fingers stroking his hair as she spoke, and Liu relaxed a little more.

Many would beg to differ with his mother's assessment of him. In fact, Liu was widely regarded as a menace to society, and his mother's leniency towards his misbehavior was the subject of much gossip among their neighbors. But to her, Liu was her precious child, and she would never give up on him.

"Then...?" he prompted, eager to hear her thoughts.

"You need to exercise even more restraint, Liu," she said firmly, her smile never faltering. "Can you do that for me?"

Liu couldn't resist his mother's request. They had been through similar situations countless times before, and every time, she would somehow make it seem easy for him to change his ways.

In the past, Liu had always been tempted to resist her words and tell her "No way!", but as he looked into his mother's loving eyes, he knew he couldn't disappoint her.

But, the more he tried, the more he failed. Eventually, he realized the truth. He could not tell his mother that. He simply… couldn't.

This was the woman whose breasts he had suckled since he was barely able to think. She was the one who bathed him for the greater part of his life in this world. She would always wash his dirty body—especially his hair.

As a child, Liu's world revolved around his mother. She sang him lullabies that would lull him to sleep, regaled him with tales of wonder and magic, and held him tight whenever he needed comfort. She nourished him with love and sustenance, tending to his every need and nursing him back to health when he fell ill. She even crafted the very clothes that adorned his small frame.

But perhaps the most significant gift his mother had bestowed upon him was his name, a moniker that he carried with pride and honor. She had given him an identity, a sense of self that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Despite her unwavering love and devotion, Liu couldn't help but feel the weight of her expectations. He had tried to resist her at first, but soon came to the realization that it was futile. He could never say no to her, not when she had given him everything he had ever needed.

With a resigned sigh, Liu finally surrendered to his mother's will. "I understand, mother," he acquiesced. "I will show more restraint."

As he looked upon his charming mother, Liu couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and reverence. She had become a deity in his eyes, a being of grace and wisdom that he admired beyond measure. He didn't know how or when it had happened, but he had come to accept that he could never resist her charms.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he basked in her praise. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice filled with love and pride. "You're such a good boy, Liu."

*

*

*

As the sun began to set, the door creaked open and Tai, Liu's father, strode in. He was a man of few words, a stoic figure with calloused hands and a weathered face that told the story of a life spent carving stones and fixing homes. It was a laborious and time-consuming task, one that kept him away from home for long hours. Despite his absence, Liu never feared his father.

Tai had tried his hand at farming once, but the soil seemed to reject his touch, and the crops withered under his care. It was a humbling lesson that he took in stride, returning to the only craft he knew to do with determination and resilience.

"Listen to your mother and be a good boy," Tai would say in his gruff voice, patting Liu on the head as he passed him by. Although he was a man of few words, his presence in the home was felt deeply.

Despite the long hours spent away from home, Tai and Mei, Liu's mother, were deeply in love. Their affection was palpable, an ever-present force that enveloped their home and their son. Liu felt safe and secure in their presence, knowing that they would always be there for him, come what may.

His father's broad shoulders and dependable back were a source of comfort for Liu, a symbol of the unwavering support that he could always count on. His mother's caring eyes and divine smile were like a balm for his soul, a salve that soothed his fears and worries.

But even in the safety of their embrace, Liu couldn't help but wonder: what if he didn't have them? What if fate were to snatch them away from him?

*

*

*

It was a night like any other in the peaceful village of Weiji, nestled atop a mountain. The stone houses were warm and cozy, insulated by the comforting glow of nearby fireplaces, and the villagers slept soundly. But, unbeknownst to them, danger lurked in the shadows.

A hundred men had silently climbed the mountain, their ragged black clothing and red headbands setting them apart from the peaceful villagers. Their hardened faces and murderous glares conveyed an ominous message, but what truly set them apart were the weapons they wielded. Blades, axes, clubs, and knives glinted menacingly in the moonlight, and their metallic scent hung heavy in the air. The smell of blood clung to the weapons, a testament to the experience of their wielders.

One man, towering over the rest, spoke in a deep and excited tone as he surveyed their surroundings. He held a spear in his hand, and his bulky frame was accentuated by a slightly better-looking robe. His headband was tied around his arm, and his gaze was far more menacing than the others.

"Looks like we have them surrounded now," he said. "Round them up. Remember, kill the men, capture the children. The women...are yours to do with as you please."

In an instant, the tranquil village was plunged into chaos. The villagers had no time to react before they found themselves surrounded by the armed men, their weapons at the ready. The peaceful mountain air was shattered by the sounds of screams, clashes of metal, and the sickening thuds of flesh meeting steel.

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