RYEY – Chapter 140 Chaos in the Village

“I was worried you’d miss your meal, so I came to watch over him for a bit.”

“That’s great, my stomach’s been growling like crazy. This trafficker hasn’t woken up yet, you just sit outside and keep watch.”

The two members of the security team who stayed behind were grateful when they saw it was Cheng Qiao. Look at the village head’s wife—such awareness, such a kind heart, even thinking about them going hungry.

Once they walked off, Cheng Qiao stood up, glanced around, then put on a mask and sunglasses before walking up to the human trafficker.

The man was still unconscious—proof of how hard Li Huan had hit him. Cheng Qiao quickly pulled out a small glass vial from her space, twisted off the cap, yanked the rag from his mouth, and poured the entire bottle of clear liquid down his throat.

She screwed the cap back on, tucked the vial away, stuffed the rag back into his mouth, then produced a small eyedrop bottle. Peeling open his eyelids, she dripped two drops into each eye before quietly leaving the room.

The trafficker stirred from the tugging and stuffing, then felt a strange coolness in his eyes. He finally woke up, groggily glimpsing a figure slipping out the door and shutting it.

“Anybody there? I’m thirsty—give me water…”

His throat was dry and parched. He tried moving, only to realize he was tied up so tightly he couldn’t budge. All he could do was cry out loudly.

But with a rag stuffed in his mouth, all that came out were muffled “mmm, mmm” sounds. Hearing it, Cheng Qiao paused for a moment. Did the medicine… fail? She blamed herself for being soft-hearted—should’ve just given him a full packet of poison.

Inside, the man kept moaning, but his voice grew weaker and weaker. Cheng Qiao listened closely to the change in his cries, secretly harboring hope.

“Cheng Qiao, we’re back from eating. How’s the trafficker?”

“He’s been groaning nonstop. I thought it might be a trick, so I ignored him.”

“You did right. I’ll go take a look.”

One of the security lads cracked the door open. Seeing the door ajar, the trafficker immediately wailed again. But his answer was a loud slam as the door shut in his face.

After about half an hour, uniformed public security officers arrived. Perhaps the man was already on their blacklist. One officer yanked off his hat, studied his face, and grinned.

“This is the guy. Take him.”

The trafficker panicked when he saw the police. He looked frantically around for Li Huan but found no sign of him. Rage boiled up inside him. Summoning all his strength, he managed to snap one of the ropes binding him.

The officers immediately grew tense. One of them didn’t hesitate—his hand chopped hard at the back of the trafficker’s neck.

A sharp pain shot through the man’s neck. He tried to turn to see who had struck him, but dizziness overwhelmed him, and he collapsed in a heap.

Villagers rushed in, grabbed his hands and feet, and hauled him out. Uncle Niu drove his ox cart to the village committee office, helping toss the trafficker onto the cart.

“Where’s your village head?”

“Reporting to the police—our Da Mao caught the trafficker, but he got injured in the process. The village head took him to the hospital.”

“You’re all good folks. We’ll report this up the chain. Expect recognition as an exemplary village. Also, we’ll be borrowing your ox cart today.”

There was no choice—the police department’s resources were stretched thin. Forget police cars—they only had two old bicycles.

Everyone was overjoyed at the praise. But Chen Weidang and Cuihua weren’t happy at all. They too climbed onto the ox cart—after all, Da Mao was their eldest son. What if something really happened to him?

With the village head, the old village head, and Uncle Niu all gone, the security team and villagers were left leaderless. Grievances flared up, bickering turned into shoving, and before long the entire Xiangyang Village spent the afternoon in noisy chaos.

Chen Weimin stood up, pointing fingers at Li Huan. He blamed him for meddling—why form a security team? Why start a literacy class? If not for all these “initiatives,” none of this trouble would’ve happened.

Auntie Wang wasn’t having it. She cursed him outright, saying Chen Weimin was rotten to the core, no wonder he fathered a daughter who turned into a tramp and murderer.

Those two words—“tramp” and “murderer”—were a thorn in Chen Weimin’s heart. Whoever mentioned them would pay. Sure enough, his eyes went bloodshot in an instant. Hot-headed, he charged at Auntie Wang.

Wang Duocai rushed to block for his wife, but he was a step too slow—Chen Weimin’s fist landed squarely.

Snarling, Wang Duocai threw a punch back. Chen Weimin’s two sons jumped in, while Wang Xiangyang and Wang Xiangdang also rushed forward. In no time, the scene turned into a complete melee.

Meanwhile, Zhaodi, harboring a grudge against Auntie Wang for always siding with the Li family, sneered down at her nails, eyes flashing viciously, and clawed at Wang Xianghua’s face.

But Wang Xianghua was only a thirteen-year-old girl. How could she have expected the fight to spread to her? She had no time to dodge. Pain seared across both cheeks, and blood began to flow.

Though Auntie Wang doted on her sons, she had three boys and only one daughter. In her eyes, her little girl was even more precious. Seeing her daughter hurt, she couldn’t restrain herself.

She snatched up a rock from the ground and hurled it at Zhaodi. Zhaodi tried to duck, but Auntie Wang, consumed by fury, wasn’t holding back. The stone cracked against Zhaodi’s forehead, leaving a gaping wound.

“Ahhh!”

Zhaodi’s scream froze everyone. Both the Wang and Chen families stopped fighting. Chen Weimin’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground when he saw blood gushing from his wife’s forehead.

“Uncle Ye! Uncle Ye! Help!”

Chen Chunjian, terrified by his mother’s rolling eyes, bolted toward the health clinic. Doctor Ye Jun, already prepared with his medicine box, came running.

But when he saw the hole in Zhaodi’s forehead, his heart sank. His ordinary hemostatic powders wouldn’t be enough—he’d have to use the medicine Cheng Qiao had given him.

Sprinkling the fine white powder onto the wound, the bleeding slowly stopped. Relief washed over Ye Jun—he’d always known Cheng Qiao carried unfathomable secrets.

The Ye family’s ancestral prescriptions and rare seeds were finally shining in her hands. Taking her as a disciple had been a wise and fateful choice. Their ancestors could finally rest easy.

Seeing the bleeding halt, Chen Weimin forgot all about fighting. He ordered his sons to fetch the family handcart and get Zhaodi to the hospital.

Auntie Wang hadn’t expected her blow to be so heavy. But when she saw the deep bloody scratches on her daughter’s cheeks, she felt no regret.

“Doctor Ye, please check Xianghua’s face. Can the wounds be treated?”

Ye Jun knew Xianghua was close friends with Li Le, though he wondered why she hadn’t gone to school today. But the moment his hand touched her face, he immediately understood why the girl had stayed home.