While the bazaar was being painted red, Gu Fan sat on the highest tiled roof overlooking the square like a man watching a particularly entertaining street performance.
He rested his elbows on his knees, chin in one hand, and smiled.
"I wish we had some popcorn, and some coke... Man I miss the diet coke," Gu Fan could not help but remember the good old days.
Below him, Song and Bai disciples were still enthusiastically turning one another into spare parts.
A Bai clan elder had just frozen a Song captain's legs solid and was methodically smashing the frozen limbs with a war hammer while the man screamed.
Two streets over, a Song squad had piled three Bai corpses into a burning spice cart and were using the flaming remains as a barricade. The air smelled of blood, burnt flesh, and pure, unfiltered stupidity.
