Chapter 144: Funeral Disturbance (Part II)

Second Brother... I stared blankly at the man who walked back past me silently. For the first time, I realized that Second Blockhead could look so remarkably handsome.

Having beaten someone in full view of the crowd, knowing you are an outsider while he is a local—did you really think you could walk away unscathed? Chinese rural communities place immense emphasis on neighborhood ties; when disaster strikes in one household, support comes from all directions. In just a split second, the three of us were surrounded. Furious villagers enclosed us three layers deep inside and out. Empty-handed or wielding bricks, wooden sticks, and vegetable baskets, men and women, young and old, showered us with a deafening variety of greetings. People from northwestern Zhejiang were certainly not tongue-tied when it came to cursing. Located in a remote area with a fierce local culture, that fellow probably held some social standing within his village, so there was no way he would let it go after being beaten like that right before everyone's eyes.

Anyway, I didn't see that guy get back up. After being kicked by Second Blockhead, he passed out cold on the spot, his mouth full of blood—judging by the severity, he was likely badly hurt. Several young men were already itching to have a go. Among them, a young fellow in a denim jacket was particularly aggressive, charging straight at us with a piece of tap water pipe in his hand. I had certainly been in my fair share of street fights—in a one-on-one scenario, you gauge your opponent's physique, but against a hundred, surrender always seemed like the more sensible option.

That young man swung the steel pipe with a whistling sound, stirring up a gust of wind as if some martial arts master had possessed him in that exact moment. Cursing us with vile profanities directed at our parents, he aimed a devastating blow straight at Second Blockhead's head. If that strike landed, it would either kill him or put him flat on his back. The situation was completely out of control; a few others were grabbing me by the chest, leaving me utterly unable to break free, while older women scratched at my arms and neck with their nails. Cha Wenbin wasn't faring much better than me, though thanks to his respectable appearance and the fact that quite a few people around these parts recognized him, he was merely pinned down and hadn't been beaten yet.

In this situation, the only thing I could do was shout at the top of my lungs, "Second Brother, run!"

Events proved that my worries were entirely misplaced. If the steel pipe-wielding youth was an expert stepped out of a martial arts novel, then Second Blockhead belonged to that half-man, half-god breed found in fantasy fiction. Naturally, there is still some gap between a man and a deity. In a flash, just as the club was about to split his skull open, Second Blockhead didn't even blink. With a sharp "whoosh," a black shadow swept across the young man's front. I imagine he had never laid eyes on such a formidable character in his entire life. By the time he recovered his wits, all that remained of the several-foot-long steel water pipe was the small piece clenched tightly in his own fist.

Second Blockhead's blade-drawing speed was so blindingly fast that people later spun legends claiming he was the disciple of some cultivation master hidden deep in the mountains—an otherworldly expert. With just a single slash, a flash of cold moonlight cut the steel pipe in two as easily as splitting firewood. Pitiably, due to his own momentum, the young man kept stumbling forward, but Second Blockhead gently sidestepped, letting the fellow slide right past his forehead.

If you thought Second Blockhead would just let him off like that, then you didn't know Second Blockhead at all. I discovered that this guy was not only completely unreasonable, but also utterly ruthless. He simply reached out and lightly tripped the fellow, sending him airborne. After flying about two meters through the air, the poor guy had a very intimate and heavy collision with the ground. Right outside Old Tu's doorway, they used to raise cattle, and a large stone-carved water trough sat right there in the courtyard. Pitiably, the young man's front teeth smashed heavily against the rim of that trough—was he trying to test whether granite or human bone was stronger? With a sharp crack, his front teeth were knocked flying right then and there.

As for Second Blockhead, he acted as if absolutely nothing had happened. Instead, he crouched down and gently wiped his pointed leather shoes simply because a tiny speck of dust had landed on them. Oh right, I almost forgot to mention—Second Blockhead was exceptionally fastidious about cleanliness. Aside from grooming himself meticulously every day, he even gave his canine companion, Daidai, regular baths.

Second Brother's strike carried immense shock value. In the blink of an eye, he had thwarted two of the enemy's champions, instantly boosting our side's morale. In a situation where the enemy outnumbered us, what you needed most was precisely this fierce ruthlessness: capture the ringleader first, shoot the bird that sticks out its neck. Sure enough, the opposition was stunned by Second Blockhead's intimidating display. For a moment, the scene fell into absolute silence, and even I was let go.

I straightened my ruffled clothes, took a moment to fix my ruined hair, and ambled over to Second Brother, flashing him a thumbs-up. "Second Brother, you're truly badass. You've got guts!"

I had assumed that the sudden appearance of an expert could genuinely cow a whole crowd, but I was wrong. When you find yourself surrounded, the smartest move is to wait for rescue—and to wait for it without putting up any resistance.

Suddenly, someone in the opposite crowd shouted, "Smash them to death!" Following that, countless fist-sized river pebbles rained down through the air. If you can't beat someone in close combat, you can attack from a distance; never underestimate the resourcefulness of the working masses!

Good grief, under that downpour of stones, I could only scurry away with my head in my hands. I thought Second Blockhead would stand his ground and keep acting cool, but who would have guessed that this guy was motherf***ing first to rush inside a house and take cover? I called him Second Blockhead, but that didn't mean he was actually an idiot. At that exact moment, Miss Tu stepped forward. Right through that hail of stones, she dropped straight to her knees with a loud thud, knocked her head heavily against the ground three times, and cried out, "Uncles, grandpas, aunts, and older sisters! My sister's body is not yet cold, and my mother is a sick woman. Whether you're here today to watch a spectacle or to pity us, at the very least, let us send our dead off to the funeral before you demand explanations. Consider today's events a plea from your younger generation—please show mercy and spare us. If any of you are willing, please stay and lend a hand; we can scrape together a few tables of simple home-cooked food."

When Tu Fei spoke, there wasn't a single tear in her eyes. Every single word passed through her lips with crystal clarity, reaching the ears of everyone present. This woman could truly bend and stretch, possessing quite the air of a matriarch. I had misjudged her entirely.

A woman stepping forward was inevitably much better than male violence, and the situation temporarily settled down. However, Second Brother had injured someone after all, and a few stubborn individuals on the other side began agitating around the edges. With a sudden uproar, the opposing crowd surged forward again, looking ready to flatten the Tu family courtyard within minutes.

And right at that moment, my father arrived. Not only did he come, but the entire village came with him! Good lord, what a sight that was—gongs and drums shaking the heavens, a boundless sea of people, knives, spears, swords, and staves, with battle cries shaking the skies!

What had happened was this: someone had called our village, reporting that people from Hong Village had been surrounded in Shang'an Village. My father happened to be taking care of business in the village at the time, and the village head asked who it was. The caller replied that one of them seemed to be Xia Lao-liu's precious son. Heavens alive, that changed everything! My father couldn't let it slide upon learning his son was surrounded. Right then and there, he grabbed the village's loudspeaker and shouted, "Hear me, men and women of Hong Village! Our people from Hong Village have been beaten by the folks in Shang'an Village. Do you think our village is easy to bully? All you able-bodied men, gather at the village entrance with your weapons!"

With a call like that, who could stay away? Since my father was the militia captain, he directly unlocked the ammunition depot. Weapons like the Type 56 semi-automatic rifles and Arisakas were all hauled out in a clatter. There was also a bunch of men carrying old-style muzzle-loaders, homemade blunderbusses, and hunting rifles to lend support. For those with nothing else, they grabbed kitchen cleavers, or if they were working in the fields, they simply hoisted hoes and shoulder poles, coming over in a massive swarm. Over a hundred men marched menacingly toward Shang'an Village. The moment they stepped into the village entrance, they indeed saw the people of Shang'an Village hurling insults. Seeing this, my father immediately fired two shots straight into the sky with a loud "bang, bang!" In an instant, not another word was muttered on the other side.

What do they say? The timid fear the fierce, the fierce fear the reckless, and the reckless fear those who want to die! People are all the same: whoever has the hardest fist has the right on their side. Since ancient times, that was how we lived in the countryside. Hong Village might not have excelled in other areas, but when it came to unity, we were second to none—let alone with my father leading the charge in person. What kind of legend was Xia Lao-liu, the man who single-handedly chased away the Red Guards back in the day? He had fought in wars, fired real guns, seen blood with his own hands, and stepped over corpses with his own feet. Would he ever let his son get bullied?

Just like that, in less time than it takes to smoke a cigarette, every single person in Shang'an Village was squatting on the ground with their hands clasped behind their heads. No matter how arrogant you were, could you act tough against firearms?

By then, the village head of Shang'an Village had rushed over as well. He was terrified; if this incident blew up, he would be the first person stripped of his post. He was a fat-eared fellow hurrying over with two cartons of cigarettes, hastily distributing them and bowing to greet the men of Hong Village one by one. After making the rounds, he scurried over to my father with a ingratiating bow and said, "Oh, Old Xia, look at all this fuss. It's just a scuffle between youngsters—why drag the adults into it? Wouldn't this become a laughingstock if word gets out?"

My father was never one to mince words, snapping back immediately, "Old Li, let me tell you, the people in your Shang'an Village lack education! So many of you came to gawk at a young girl's misfortune—people are mourning a death in the family today, and you lot come here to shit in their cooking pot! How exactly do you run this village? It wouldn't matter much if you're a poor village head, we can just replace you tomorrow with someone competent. It wouldn't matter if I made a spectacle here, at worst it's just us outnumbering your few people, but how do you suppose this disgrace of yours will play out?"

Stung by those words, the village head's face flushed alternately red and white, unable to utter a single reply. He could only vent his frustration on the people squatting on the ground, kicking and cursing them endlessly. My father stepped over to stop him, saying, "Alright, Old Li, no need to work yourself into a fury. Today's business will serve as a lesson for them. Besides, isn't Shang'an Village short on manpower? No worries." My father patted his chest and shouted to the hundred-odd Hong Village villagers behind him, "We in Hong Village have plenty of people! You folks in Shang'an Village have let dogs eat your consciences, so we from Hong Village are here to save your faces! Listen up, all of you—go home and fetch supplies! Every single household will send two people to help out this young girl's family, so she can send her dead off with dignity. If you have food at home, bring food; if you have no food, bring money! We won't starve to death from missing a single meal, and everyone coming to help will bring their own rations. Let's show these Shang'an Village bastards what it truly means to be human!"

Instantly, earth-shattering applause and cheers erupted from behind him. That move left the turtle-spawn bastards of Shang'an Village with nowhere to stand and nowhere to sit—their faces were completely, utterly disgraced!

*Author's Note:*
*Second chapter posted, a third chapter is on the way.*