Because a villager had actually been killed by the bandits, the scene that followed descended into chaos.
The son whose father had died grabbed a hoe from somewhere and, in a frenzy, started bringing it down on the heads of any bandit he saw. A hoe was no toy; with enough force, it could take a man's head clean off.
The courtyard quickly became a bloodbath. The son went around with his hoe, striking every bandit on the ground, whether they were still or struggling. By the time everyone calmed down, they realized not a single one was left alive.
"Wh-what do we do now? Did we... did we just kill them?" a villager asked, fear dawning on him.
"What's there to do? These bandits came to our village to steal our grain and hurt our people. Uncle Sun is gone. If we didn't fight back, were we supposed to just wait for them to kill us all?" Zhao Xiangguo, ever the quick thinker, knew there was safety in numbers, so he deliberately included everyone in his statement.
