Everything blurred together in a single, horrific moment.
Chen Li raised her hand. One of the guards stepped forward. The blade of his sword gleamed under the moonlight.
Hua Jing's mother did not scream.
She did not run.
She only turned slightly, her eyes soft as she whispered her daughter's name.
And then—
The snow was painted red.
A sharp cry tore from Hua Jing's lips.
She tried to run forward, tried to reach her mother, but a strong force yanked her back. A hand clamped tightly over her mouth, muffling her sobs.
She struggled, kicking, thrashing, her small body trembling with the effort. But the grip did not loosen.
It was not the strength of a man, but of someone younger. Someone who knew she would scream.
Someone who did not want her to be seen.
Tears blurred Hua Jing's vision as she watched, helpless, as the guards lifted her mother's lifeless body and tossed it into the pond.
The water swallowed her whole, rippling softly before stilling once more.
