On a rainy night, under the cover of darkness, an inconspicuous boat drifted downstream. The torrential rain and howling wind threatened to overturn the fragile vessel at any moment.
Mrs. Margaret Qian sat in the boat, clutching her son tightly in her arms. Both mother and child were soaked to the skin, shivering from cold and fear.
Holding her son close, Mrs. Margaret Qian’s lips were blue with cold. She whispered, "Don’t be afraid, son. Those heartless people from the House of Zhao want to hand us over as traitors, to wipe out your father’s bloodline. I’m taking you back to the Qians! Once we reach your grandparents’ home, no one will be able to hurt us!"
"Mother, I’m so scared, wuwuwu!" her young son whimpered, tears streaming down his face.
Mrs. Margaret Qian covered her son’s mouth and soothed him, "Don’t cry, good boy. When we reach your grandparents, I’ll have your grandfather and uncles stand up for us! Those from the House of Zhao who want us dead—I won’t let a single one escape! Son, remember: your father was killed by Alexander Hayes. When you grow up, you must avenge your father and kill Alexander Hayes! Do you understand!?"
Her son looked up, his little face pale and lips blue, eyes burning with hatred. "Mother, I remember! When I grow up, I’ll kill Alexander Hayes myself. I’ll kill his wife, his children, and wipe out his whole family!"
"Good boy, you have spirit. You truly are your father’s son!" Mrs. Margaret Qian hugged her son tightly, gazing up at the pitch-black sky as the storm seemed to intensify...
"Madam, we’re almost at the dock. Once we land and travel thirty more miles, we’ll reach Qian territory. We’ll be safe then!" one of her attendants reported from the cabin.
"Good, we’re almost home... almost home..." Mrs. Margaret Qian murmured, hugging her son tighter.
The boat docked, and Mrs. Margaret Qian, clutching her son, mounted a horse and galloped away under the protection of her attendants.
Suddenly, from both sides of the road, House of Zhao’s men sprang from ambush, attacking the Qian family’s party with savage force.
In the stormy darkness, Mrs. Margaret Qian, clutching her son, was thrown from her panicked horse. Like sharks scenting blood, the Zhao men surged forward and killed mother and son on the spot.
"Madam and Young Master are dead!" the Qian family’s guards cried out hoarsely, and morale collapsed instantly.
The Zhao men pressed their advantage: "Quick! Kill them all—leave no witnesses!"
The massacre raged on in the stormy night. The Qian family’s guards, exhausted and overwhelmed, were cut down one after another.
One clever Qian guard took advantage of the chaos and darkness, seized a horse, and fled into the night.
"One got away—after him! Leave no survivors!" the Zhao men shouted, preparing to give chase.
Just then, several pebbles whizzed invisibly through the rain, striking the Zhao men’s horses. The startled animals bolted, scattering into the stormy night.
"Boss, without horses, how do we chase him? If one of them escapes to the Qian family, and they find out we tried to kill Mrs. Margaret Qian and her son, the Zhaos and Qians will be mortal enemies! What now!?" The Zhao men fretted, while the Qian guard had already vanished into the darkness.
Helpless, the Zhao men withdrew to report back. After they left, a figure silently dropped from a tree near the battleground, dressed in black. He tossed the remaining black pebbles aside and melted into the rainy night...