Read Novel Full Chapter 94
Chapter 94 : I will feel distressed
“All the money in my family is marked with the word ‘An.’ When this old woman approached us, she even used a middleman a man named Liu from Zuojiawan. If you want, you can find them, there are plenty of witnesses to prove it,” An Ershi explained quickly.
He understood the stakes well. These days, human traffickers were universally despised, and admitting to such a crime could lead to a death sentence. But calling it a child bride arrangement changed the situation entirely. They could claim they were simply trying to marry a wife and had been deceived by Old Lady Zhao about Zhuang Daya’s age, which would significantly lessen their punishment.
Zhao Xiangyu was dumbfounded, and Jiang Hongmei’s eyes flickered nervously. Qi Yupeng, disgusted with the Zhuang family, called for the militia to search Zhao Xiangyu’s room. It didn’t take long for them to find money under her pillow marked with the word “An.”
Zhao Xiangyu collapsed to the ground, her legs trembling, and her voice quivered. “This girl is my granddaughter! Why can’t I arrange her marriage?”
“Take them all away! Send them to the commune!” Qi Yupeng commanded sharply.
“You think the Women’s Affairs Department’s warnings mean nothing? In this era of marriage autonomy, anyone forcing a woman into marriage against her will can expect to be put in jail!” he bellowed, his spit spraying onto Jiang Hongmei’s pale, rigid face.
Zhuang Daya, her ropes finally untied, collapsed limply into her sister’s arms.
Erya was trembling with a mix of excitement and fear, but her eyes shone with gratitude as she looked at Jiang Li and Qin Xiaoting.
“Captain,” someone asked, “we’ve rescued her, but what about the other children in the family?”
With Zhao Xiangyu jailed, the Zhuang family was left with only Zhuang Guoliang and Jiang Hongmei to care for them.
Jiang Li didn’t believe for a second that Zhuang Guoliang and Jiang Hongmei were unaware of the child bride scheme. Considering Jiang Hongmei’s ruthless nature, it was even likely she had orchestrated it.
Qi Yupeng also felt the weight of the situation. The Zhuang family’s predicament left several children without proper care, and the village team had to decide on a solution.
Providing too much support would anger the villagers, many of whom would object to helping a family they already viewed as troublemakers. But doing too little wasn’t an option either; no one wanted to see children starve.
After pondering, Qi Yupeng rubbed his face and said, “It’s late, and everyone has worked hard. Let’s leave it at this for tonight. After the New Year, we’ll hold a meeting to discuss how to handle the Zhuang family’s situation. Speaking of which, where is Zhuang Guoliang? He’s never around when there’s trouble.”
Meanwhile, Zhuang Guoliang, oblivious to the chaos, was at the Sun family’s house in Zuojiawan. Zhang Qiaohui watched him repair the roof, her gaze trailing over his strong arms, down his shoulders, and to his hips and muscular thighs. A familiar heat stirred within her.
“Sister, it’s done,” Zhuang Guoliang said, wiping sweat from his forehead as he descended the ladder.
Zhang Qiaohui rushed to support him. “Brother Zhuang, be careful! Don’t fall. I’m sorry for troubling you like this so close to the New Year. Your wife must be worried about you at home.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just in time. If the roof isn’t fixed, how can your family celebrate the New Year?”
As they stood close, a soft touch brushed against his arm, sending a fleeting thought through Zhuang Guoliang’s mind. He couldn’t help but notice how his steps had led him here, to Zuojiawan, without much thought.
Their eyes met briefly under the dim light, a spark of something unspoken passing between them.
As he landed firmly on the ground, a plump child suddenly dashed toward him, wrapping his small arms around Zhuang Guoliang’s legs.
“Dad!” the boy cried out.
Zhang Qiaohui’s face paled. “Junjun! What are you saying? He’s not—”
Zhuang Guoliang, unperturbed, squatted down and lifted Sun Junjun into the air. “Hey, buddy, is this fun? Uncle will give you a plane ride!” he laughed, spinning the boy around.
Zhang Qiaohui’s eyes grew misty, and she turned away to wipe her tears, unable to control her emotions.
Her husband, Sun Jianguo, had been in the army for many years, rarely returning home except during family leave. When Junjun was born, he hardly ever saw his father. In the village, the child had developed a habit of calling any tall man he embraced “Dad.”
“Junjun, go play outside,” Zhuang Guoliang said, setting the boy down before stepping closer to Zhang Qiaohui.
She stood with her head bowed, the pale, tender skin of her neck visible. Her shoulders trembled slightly, making her appear fragile and adrift, like duckweed floating on water, lonely and helpless.
Without thinking, Zhuang Guoliang reached out and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “Sister, don’t cry. It hurts me to see you like this,” he said softly.
Zhang Qiaohui looked up in surprise, her eyes still wet with tears. She gripped her floral apron tightly and stammered, “Brother Zhuang, you…”
He didn’t let her finish but instead pulled her into a tight embrace. The small room seemed to fill with the subtle fragrance of her presence.
Zhang Qiaohui resisted for a moment but eventually gave in, leaning against his chest in defeat. “Brother Zhuang, we can’t…” she whispered.
“Shh, don’t talk. Qiaohui, I want you,” Zhuang Guoliang murmured. Lifting her effortlessly, his hands roamed over her. As the warmth of his palms touched her skin, Zhang Qiaohui’s body trembled involuntarily.
She lay helplessly on the bed, unable to resist as Zhuang Guoliang acted on his desires. Her floral apron was pushed aside, and her thick cotton pants ended up discarded on the floor.
Through the crack in the door, two intertwined bodies could be seen. Sun Mingming stood outside, covering his younger brother’s eyes with an expressionless face.
—
Meanwhile, Zhuang Daya had gone to Zhao Xiangyu’s room, found the hidden key, and opened the storage room where the grain was kept. Inside were bags of grain, recently distributed for the New Year. Erya grabbed a gourd ladle and scooped out a large portion of flour.
Neither she nor her eldest sister, Sanya, had eaten all day.
Daya hesitated as she watched her sister work with determination. “Erya, if we eat this food, won’t Grandma beat us when she gets back?”
Erya bit her lip and replied, “She’s not my grandma! Let’s eat well now. Even if that awful old woman comes back, at least we’ll die on a full stomach.”
As the occasional sound of firecrackers echoed in the distance, Daya’s eyes welled with tears. “Alright, the three of us sisters will die together.”
“Bah! We’re not going to die. We’re going to live and live well,” Erya declared fiercely.
The white flour was mixed with water, left to ferment, then rolled into dough sheets and cooked in the pot. Even with just a pinch of salt, the aroma was mouthwatering. Seeing Sanya’s hungry expression, Erya scooped out a small bowl for her.
“Little sister eats first!” she said lovingly.
Before Sanya could take a bite, Zhuang Xiaobao stormed in and knocked the bowl out of her hands. “You little money-drains! How dare you steal the white flour! Just wait until Grandma comes back, I’ll make sure she beats you to death!”
Zhuang Daya looked at the dough now covered in dirt and mud, her heart aching. Sanya burst into tears.
Enraged, Erya stepped forward and shoved Zhuang Xiaobao. “How dare you waste food! When you die, the King of Hell will fry you in a pan until you’re crispy, then feed you to the evil spirits!” she shouted.