At the Foot of Mount Daimawan
At the foot of Mount Daimawan, there lies a nameless valley, quite secluded. A protruding ridge in the middle divides the valley into two ravines, one to the north and the other to the south. Where the ravines converge, there is the valley’s only exit, but a low mountain blocks the way at this exit.
In the year 950 of the Yuan calendar, several hunters unexpectedly discovered this place. Noticing its fertile soil and abundant water, they brought their families and relatives to settle here. They cleared land to create flat courtyards, cut wood to build houses, and lived as if isolated from the world. The men farmed, the women wove, and they planted melons beneath the mulberry trees. Though separated from the outside world, they lived contentedly and peacefully.
In the blink of an eye, eighty years passed, and the valley had become a small village with just over a hundred residents. Since everyone shared the surname Nasser, the village was named Nasser Family Village.
In the spring of the year 1034 of the Yuan calendar, the valley was covered in lush greenery, a verdant expanse of vibrant life. The mountain air was filled with the fragrant scent of wild grasses, and flowers of all kinds blossomed in a riot of color, as if competing to outshine one another. The fragrant breeze carried the scent of blossoms everywhere. Several acres of fertile fields were nestled among the trees and vegetation, with houses neatly arranged, peeking out from behind the foliage, creating a scene as picturesque as a poem or painting.
At this moment, it was noon, and wisps of smoke from cooking fires were rising into the air. The aroma of meals wafted throughout the valley. In the most ordinary of farmyards, a family of four sat around a stone table, enjoying a simple meal together in a warm and harmonious atmosphere.
Among them was a young girl dressed in a green long robe and wearing straw sandals, her attire typical of a mountain dweller. Her cheeks were slightly tanned with a hint of rosy flush, likely from her early years of farming. However, she exuded a natural liveliness that seemed to come from deep within her bones. Her large, glistening eyes resembled a clear spring, full of life and vitality.
The girl’s name was Layla. At the tender age of budding youth, she was just beginning to blossom. Her tall and slender figure had a hint of curves, with a straight nose, a rosy little mouth, and willow-like arched eyebrows, making her appearance quite attractive.
Beside the girl sat a boy of about fourteen or fifteen years old, named Reza. He bore a resemblance to the girl, suggesting that he was her younger brother. His skin was dark, but he was somewhat slender. With clear, delicate features and a pointed chin, he had a youthful, refined appearance.
The parents of the siblings both appeared as ordinary farmers.
"Layla, you're not a little girl anymore. Your mother and I have been discussing finding a good young man in the village for you. We’ll prepare some dowry for you, and then you can get married. As the old saying goes, a grown daughter is hard to keep at home," said the siblings' father during the meal.
Reza paused with his chopsticks in hand, looking at his parents with a hint of reluctance in his eyes, his expression somewhat downcast.
"Layla, your father is right. Girls your age in other families are already married. You should hurry up. If you have any interest in a young man from a certain family, just let me know, and your father and I will go..."
“Father, Mother,” the girl interrupted before her mother could finish speaking, “I won’t get married until my brother is married.”
“What are you saying? By the time your brother gets married, there might not be any young men left who would want you,” said the girl's mother.
Nasser Layla didn’t say a word, just kept her head down and continued eating her meal.
The couple sighed and said no more, but they had decided in their hearts to visit the village in the afternoon to see if there were any suitable young men from other families. They planned to seek a matchmaker to arrange a marriage for their daughter. A woman's youthful years are only a few, and delaying further would be too late.
At this moment, outside the valley, the Afghan army is gathering. There are thousands of them. Their silver armor shines with an icy cold light. The soldiers hold shields and swords, and ride on their horses. Their faces are stern, without a trace of emotion in their eyes.
At the front of the ranks was a figure clad in golden armor, riding a fierce, single-horned beast. With a hawk-like nose and deep-set eyes, he exuded an intimidating presence without uttering a word.
"Report: A village has been discovered behind that low mountain," a messenger said as he ran up and knelt before the man.
"A village," the man murmured thoughtfully, then asked, "Is there any military stationed there?"
“No, it appears that they are not wearing military attire. From their clothing, they seem to be people from the land of the earth.”
“People from the land of the earth, huh? Heh, then let’s eliminate them. We’ve been traveling for a long time; let’s rest here for the night.”
To him, the slaughter of a village seemed like a trivial matter.
Under his command, the army of a thousand men, riding on their war horses, surged over the low mountain and headed towards the valley.
It was noon, and everyone in the village was having lunch in their courtyards when suddenly, the thunderous sound of hooves came from the mouth of the valley, causing the ground to tremble.
The villagers, who had lived here in isolation for decades and had never witnessed such a display, were instantly struck with panic and fear.
“Kill them all, leave not a single one alive.”
A chilling voice echoed in the ears of the villagers.
The war horses galloped at a breakneck speed, and in no time, they reached the nearest household to the mouth of the valley. The iron hooves trampled the low fence, and with a swift stroke of the sword, heads were severed and soared into the air, trailing long streams of blood.
ah
The horrifying screams echoed through the valley.
"Run away!"
Only then did the villagers react, hastily abandoning their bowls and chopsticks and fleeing in a panic up the mountain.
However, human speed could not match that of the war horses. Before long, they were overtaken by the advancing soldiers. With no mercy, the soldiers' swords fell relentlessly, sending heads soaring into the air and creating a cloud of blood.
No one could have imagined that this isolated paradise, once a haven of peace, would suddenly be subjected to such slaughter.
In a matter of moments, more than ten villagers had fallen beneath the iron swords.
”Layla, quickly take your brother and run to the back mountain!”
The couple shouted to Nasser Layla and Reza to run to the back mountain, while they themselves ran towards the village path.
They knew clearly that being a group of four made them too conspicuous, and they would never outrun the war horses. In this critical moment of life and death, the couple made a split-second decision to sacrifice their own lives to buy their children even a little bit of time.
At that moment, the couple was completely exposed to the soldiers' line of sight.
“Father! Mother!”
Tears welled up in the girl's eyes instantly. Through her tear-filled gaze, a flicker of determination appeared. She quickly wiped her tears, took Reza's hand, and ran towards the house.
The time bought by their parents' sacrifice must not be wasted.
Just as Nasser Layla entered the house, she saw the sharp blade slice through her parents' necks. Her parents' heads flew through the air in an arc.
Tears streamed from her eyes once again. She bit her lower lip hard, drawing a few drops of blood.
She closed the door, with time being of the essence and leaving no room for hesitation. She could only force herself to endure the pain in her heart.
Poor Reza, still so young, didn’t understand what was happening. He only heard the thunderous sound of hooves, and then their parents, who had been discussing his sister's marriage, suddenly shouted in anger and desperately ran outside.
Then his sister dragged him into the house, placed him inside a cupboard, and closed the door. She spoke to him in a commanding tone, instructing him that no matter what happened, he must not come out.
After hiding her brother in the cupboard, Nasser Layla herself dashed out through the back door of the house and ran towards the back mountain.
She knew very well that although their parents had bought them a little time, this time was almost negligible compared to the speed of the war horses. In the end, they would still be unable to escape.
