Chapter 120: Actions Speak Louder Than Words

After a few such incidents, Hong Tao felt quite contemptuous of his own tendency to get worked up over rumors. At the same time, he realized deeply how terrifying and difficult to combat the mainstream social atmosphere could be. However, Hong Tao was neither afraid nor worried that these gossips would cause any substantial harm to the two shops. The customers who were meant to come would still come; they were here for services, not to make friends. As for the regular customers, they had their own judgment and knew exactly what kind of people everyone was.

However, his aunt and Juanzi couldn't take it anymore. Once, Juanzi even got into an argument with a woman who loved to gossip, only to be scolded mercilessly. She ended up in tears, feeling more aggrieved than ever, with no satisfaction gained. Hong Tao wasn't present at the time. The woman lived just inside the entrance of the alley, a neighbor to the enamel factory, and was the type who felt uncomfortable if she didn't spread rumors all day. She loved to argue and curse, and when it came to dealing with young girls like Juanzi, she could easily overwhelm them.

Hong Tao certainly couldn't stand by while his own people were being mistreated. Besides, the woman hadn't just scolded Juanzi; she had stood on the sidewalk, arms akimbo, and insulted his aunt and grandmother as well. After hearing about the incident at the shop, Hong Tao had no choice but to seek Han Xue's help again. To deal with such wicked people, you had to use other wicked people to keep them in check; persuasion was useless.

This time, Han Xue didn't set conditions or play hard to get. Had Han Yan not held her back, she would have rushed out to tear into that woman that very day. Following the plan Hong Tao devised, she recruited two local tough women from elsewhere, both around her age. Backed by four young hoodlums, they waited across the street for two full days until they finally found the perfect opportunity.

The woman had a habit: every day after lunch, she would stroll along the main street of the alley. If she ran into neighbors, she would chat about anything or nothing, likely just to aid her digestion. On this day, she came out to scout for targets to gossip with. After leaving the alley, she deliberately lingered in front of the tailor shop and the hair salon to show off her authority. Seeing that no one in the shops dared to provoke her, she crossed the street with great satisfaction.

Suddenly, something on the other side of the street caught her attention: two young girls were arguing. The woman couldn't resist a spectacle; she had to get close to understand what was happening. It might be fodder for gossip that she could embellish and talk about for weeks. She moved in closer. Listening carefully, she realized: a few dozen yuan had been dropped on the ground and discovered by one girl. She wanted to wait for the owner, but another girl arrived, insisting it was hers. However, the second girl couldn't specify the exact amount, and the two began to bicker.

"Hey, hey... stop arguing! That money is mine. It's exactly 45 yuan and 20 cents! I dropped it when I was taking out my handkerchief after selling vegetables at noon. I’ve been looking everywhere for it, so it ended up here. You young girl, don't be so greedy. What's yours is yours. Even elementary school students know to turn in lost money to the police, don't you? Give it here, thank you!" The woman had overheard the girls' conversation and noted the exact amount, so she stepped forward to make a quick profit.

"See, the owner has arrived, and you still claimed it was yours! Shall we go to the police station together?" The girl holding the money raised her voice several octaves as soon as the woman spoke, drawing the attention of passersby.

"Oh, I must have been mistaken. I did lose money, too. Let me go look over there!" The other girl muttered, cast a hateful glance at the woman, and turned away.

"Auntie, here is your money. Count it to see if it's correct!" The remaining girl handed the money to the woman.

"Heh, why count? It's definitely right. Which department do you work for? I must write a letter of commendation for you. Your honesty is excellent and worth learning from!" The woman took the money, her eyes crinkling with glee.

"Wait... that's my money! Is it 45 yuan and 20 cents? I was waiting for the bus here and dropped it when I took out my cigarettes!" Just as the woman's smile blossomed, a thin young man suddenly lunged forward, grabbing at the money in her hand while shouting loudly.

"Screw your mother! You're trying to scam me? Go take a piss and look at your own reflection. If it's your money, can you call it and have it answer? Second Aunt, call my husband out! I want to see who dares to scam money out of my hands right in front of my own door!" The woman was furious. Someone was playing the same trick on her—she had met a fellow swindler, and rivals were natural enemies! She had to crush his arrogance with precision and ruthlessness. Besides, she had glanced at the money and noticed no special markings, which put her mind at ease.

By now, several onlookers had gathered, including neighbors. The woman asked an acquaintance to call her husband, likely hoping to use numbers to scare the young man off. It was several dozen yuan—a month's wages—worth the effort.

"I'm not afraid of whoever you call! This is my money. Why are you cursing?" The young man with glasses didn't back down; he grabbed the woman's hand holding the money, trying to snatch it.

"Alright! Help! Someone is hitting me! I'll fight you to the death!" This was like poking a hornet's nest. The woman let out a shrill, siren-like shriek that echoed down the street. She began clawing and pulling at the young man, forcing him to retreat step by step.

"You little punk! Coming to my front door to bully people? You have a death wish! I'll kill you!" Hearing the news from a neighbor, the woman's husband came running out. He was no pushover himself, having quarreled with almost everyone in the neighborhood. Without asking why they were fighting, he rushed in to join his wife in beating the bespectacled young man.

"Hey, screw your grandfather! Where are you stepping? Are your eyes just for show? I'm talking to you, did you hear me?" Suddenly, a young man in a military-style green uniform emerged from the crowd and collided with the husband. Before the husband could speak, the young man shoved him to the ground and unleashed a barrage of profanity, cursing him out thoroughly.

"Screw your mother! Who are you cursing? I'll beat you to a pulp!" The husband was around forty, in his prime, and having had a drink at noon, he couldn't take the insult. He scrambled up and locked arms with the young man, intending to fight.

"Beat him up! He hits people and still thinks he's right! You old bastard!" Unfortunately for the husband, no one was fighting him one-on-one. As the young man held him, he shouted. Immediately, two more young men jumped from the crowd, pulled the husband away, and swung their military-style satchels at him, raining blows on his head and face.

"Aiya..." The husband seemed to have been hit by something heavy; he clutched his head and collapsed. The two men then rushed toward the woman, each striking her head with their satchels. Before she could react, they turned and sprinted toward the Imperial Academy, followed by the man in the green uniform.

"Remember! Don't be so loose-lipped in the future. Next time you spread rumors, I'll break your leg! Scum!" Because it happened so fast, the onlookers hadn't even reacted before the woman and her husband were both on the ground. The bespectacled young man took the money from the woman's hand, walked leisurely over to the bus stop, and waited for his bus.

A few people in the crowd chased after the three young men, but they didn't bother the bespectacled man. He hadn't touched the woman with a single finger from start to finish—in fact, he had been the one hit. He didn't look like he was with the attackers, and with his black-rimmed glasses, he looked quite scholarly.

The couple on the ground were bleeding from their heads, the blood streaming through their fingers. They could only wail. When the police finally arrived, the couple couldn't explain what had happened. By the time they looked for the girl who had "found" the money and the bespectacled man, they were long gone.

"Aunt, do you feel better now? See? That is the power of money. Two packs of imported cigarettes, less than 50 yuan in total, and the problem is solved. So, stop listening to useless nonsense. Learning your craft and earning money is the real skill. Let me tell you this: in two or three years, those who gossip will be fawning over you, and you won't even need to give them the time of day. You can believe me or not. If you think their nonsense is more important than what I say, then you can quit this tailor shop. I’ll keep your spot open. Whenever you change your mind, you can come back, but by then, you'll only be earning a wage; I will buy out your shares." Hong Tao stood in the tailor shop, his aunt on his left and Han Xue on his right. The other girls had been sent to the hair salon to watch the spectacle from the windows.

"Yumei, Hong Tao is right. If you have to listen to what everyone says, you might as well not live. As long as you are a little better, prettier, or more capable than them, people will talk about you every day. Miss Jiang and the others who come here are respectable college graduates with real jobs. Just because they dress nicely, they were called 'fox spirits.' Didn't you call them that behind their backs before? And what happened? They didn't lose a single hair; they kept earning money, getting their hair done, and wearing nice clothes. The people who gossiped about them can't even afford to get their hair done here anymore." Han Xue added, helping Hong Tao persuade her.