This was a girl of about six or seven, who at the moment was helping her parents weed in the wheat field. Seeing the thirteen assassins trampling the wheat sprouts, the adults were so intimidated by their presence that they dared not speak. The child, fearless, called out loud.
The little girl's face was covered in dirt, her body thin and frail, her eyes large and bright, shining with stubborn defiance.
Upon hearing her scolding the thirteen assassins, her parents were greatly alarmed and quickly covered her mouth and forced her to kneel down.
"Please forgive us, esteemed ones, please forgive us," the little girl's parents pleaded as they knelt in the wheat field, continually kowtowing.
"I won't kneel, it's clearly their fault, they are the bad guys," the little girl said stubbornly.
The leading assassin stopped, rode his horse up to the family of three, and looked down at the little girl with mocking eyes.
