The man flung his arm, pulling more red banknotes from his coat and throwing them in the woman's face. "You wretched peasant! You just think it's not enough money, don't you? Is this enough?"
The careless shove sent the woman stumbling. Already sick and weak, she slipped and fell right into the mud.
"Mom!"
A sharp cry came from behind the door. The four- or five-year-old girl ran out into the wind and rain, helped her mother up, then stood in front of her protectively.
Her little face was flushed with anger. Clenching her tiny fists, she charged and started pummeling the man in white's legs. "Bad man! Bad man! Stop bullying my mom!"
"Xiaonan, don't!"
The woman struggled up from the mud. Ignoring the filth covering her clothes, she went to grab her daughter.
The swordsman's face was cold. He let the little girl's harmless punches land on his leg as his right hand slowly reached for the hilt of the sword on his back.
