Mo Yunxian had been indulged from young and was born to a martial family. She was used to seeing dead people.
"Xian'er, wait a moment. This incident must be…" Mo You wanted to say that it was just an inconvenience.
But the sounds of wailing suddenly rang out.
He saw two white-haired old people squeezing their way through the crowd to fling themselves on the dead youth's body.
"Fu'er! What happened to you?! Wake up! Don't scare your father…"
"Fu'er, my Fu'er…"
These two old people burst into tears as they looked at their grandson, who had stopped breathing. Their voices were mournful and heart-rending.
"It's all your fault! You, you killed my grandson! Give my grandson back to me!" The weeping old woman looked with bloodshot eyes at Mo You, who was astride his tall horse. She reached out to claw at him.
