Dongzhang village, in front of Zhang's iron shop.
The original iron shop had long been buried in the fire, leaving only broken walls and the pungent smell of fireworks.
Old Zhang knelt quietly on the ground as if he had lost his soul, and the unconscious cui Hua was lying on the ground beside him.
On his way back with his daughter, he saw corpses all over the place. Countless houses were buried in the fire.
"Dead, they're all dead!"
Old Zhang clenched the Golden long sword in his hand, his body trembling.
There were more than 300 people in Dongzhang village, men, women, old, and young. They were all killed by the mysterious group of men in Black. Not a single one was left alive.
Squire Zhang's death was not to be regretted.
The only thing that made him sad was old Yuan who sold bamboo baskets at the East End of the village, Shi Gen who liked to come to his house to freeload wine, and the widow next door whose man had died in the Army ...