"Just because we're from the same village, does that mean you have to take such a high-handed approach?" A commanding voice rose in the distance as an elderly man, supporting himself with a walking stick, slowly made his way towards them.
Behind him followed several middle-aged people, each with a grim expression on their face.
As soon as the group came closer, the few youngsters sprawled on the ground immediately found their backbone, crying and lifting their heads, "Dad, Mom, Yang Xiaosi is trying to kill us.
Look at the wounds on us; it hurts to death."
The parents of the children, seeing the extensive injuries on their bodies and their pitiable crying, immediately felt heartbroken; their anger towards the Yang Family swelled visibly.
The Yang Village Chief was also among them; he had only one precious son, a single heir through three generations.
At home, neither he nor his wife could bear to lay a finger on their son, and now he was beaten black and blue.
