RYEY -Chapter 296 The Homemade Gun Is Gone

Li Huan’s face visibly darkened with anger. He had only been away for a little over half a month, yet his own house had been set on fire.

“What happened? Tell me clearly.”

Shouhou was still gasping for breath. Xuhui quickly grabbed a tea cup and poured half a cup of warm water for him. Shouhou gulped it down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

“Last night, Xiangyang came to see me. He said your house caught fire. By the time they managed to put it out, most of the house had already burned down. Xiangyang reported it to the police.

The police said someone poured kerosene on your house. Since it was an old adobe house, with a roof mostly made of dry straw, the fire consumed it completely.

The newer house in the back survived, but everything inside was burned to ashes. There’s basically nothing left. We suspect arson, but the police said the fire destroyed the evidence too.”

The veins on Li Huan’s forehead throbbed visibly—he was on the edge of fury. Xuhui’s heart skipped a beat; he knew his father’s temper well, and when he got this angry, he could really kill someone.

“Brother Huan, have you offended anyone recently?”

Li Huan stared blankly at Shouhou. Offend anyone? Aside from having beaten Chen Damao twice and dealing with Tiedan from the Fenqiu family, he hadn’t really offended anyone.

“It’s Damao.”

Tiedan usually acted tough but was cowardly; if you handed him a knife and told him to stab someone, he would drop it and run away in fear.

“Damao… maybe.”

Shouhou also recalled what Li Huan had told him, but even the police couldn’t trace some of these matters—they were helpless.

“Mom, I’ll go back tomorrow. You just take care of Li Le here.”

“No, I want to go back and see… that was the house your father and I lived in all our lives. I…”

Her words trailed off into tears. Back then, Li Huan had already built a new house, yet she refused to move. It wasn’t stubbornness—she was just attached to the memories in the old house, a house that held her late husband’s love.

But they had to wait until tomorrow to return. The long-distance buses were just two a day, one each way. They had no choice but to wait.

Li Le quickly went to the kitchen to serve food for Shouhou, then prepared bedding and daily necessities. Their house had burned down, so they would stay at Xuhui’s home, which had been renovated.

However, there was no bedding there. Without quilts, it would be freezing. Seeing Li Le’s actions, Xuhui understood and helped her organize everything.

Li Huan didn’t move. He wasn’t worried about having nowhere to stay—the county house had already been made cozy by Cheng Qiao, with ample food and daily necessities.

But he remained silent. Only by keeping calm himself could he help his mother and sister stabilize their emotions. Otherwise, the long wait would be unbearable.

Finally returning to Xiangyang Village, Li Huan saw the charred ruins, and the backyard land Cheng Qiao had carefully cultivated was scorched beyond recognition. He closed his eyes.

Following his memory, he searched for the homemade gun hidden in a cabinet but found nothing. Clearly, the fire had started inside, and the gun had been stolen.

Mother Li staggered toward the blackened remains, feeling around. This used to be the wardrobe, built sturdily by her late husband. How had it turned to charcoal?

Their family’s treasured photos were gone, only a few shattered pieces of glass remained. Even the hats they used to look at daily on the walls were gone.

“Xuhui, take Grandma away. Anywhere will do. Don’t let her stay here.”

Seeing his mother so devastated, Li Huan’s eyes turned red. He knew how much she cherished the things left by his father—but now, a single fire had destroyed them all.

If he found out who did it, he would make them pay and feel the same pain.

Xuhui forcibly carried Mother Li to his old house. Li Le quickly fired up the kang stove and boiled water in the kitchen—they would stay here for a while.

Grandma watched with tearful eyes at Li Huan’s exhausted mother. Having lived in Xiangyang Village all her life, she knew everything. When Li Huan’s father had passed, Mother Li had been in the same state.

“Ah, too bad Qiao isn’t here, or else…”

Grandma missed Cheng Qiao and the children dearly. As long as they were present, Mother Li would feel supported.

Li Huan didn’t look at the burned house again, walking resolutely toward the village entrance. Wang Xiangyang and others arrived too, but seeing Li Huan’s sullen face, no one dared speak.

Arriving at the village entrance, Chen Tiezhu was so frightened he didn’t dare open the door. He hadn’t set the fire—truly hadn’t.

Yet as Li Huan passed his house without stopping, Chen Tiezhu grew curious. He quietly opened the door and saw Li Huan heading to Chen Damao’s house, muttering to himself:

“Could it be Damao who set the fire? Doesn’t seem right… I haven’t even seen him leave the house.”

Damao opened the door, looking innocent, but Li Huan caught a flash of excitement and joy in his eyes—the joy of taking revenge.

And then there was Chen Daniu, that wretched woman, the real enemy. She had dared to run to the factory to tattle. If she didn’t get burned, it wouldn’t be Damao.

Pregnant Gao Xiaohui watched Li Huan nervously. She also suspected Damao, but by now, he no longer spoke to her.

Even with a heavy belly, she still cooked and did laundry for Damao, because his mood had been volatile lately, and any small displeasure would set him off.

Especially on the day the educated youths left, the entire village went to see them off. They only felt satisfied after seeing them to the village entrance—these youths had brought honor to Xiangyang Village.

But Gao Xiaohui noticed Damao’s eyes were sharp and poisonous, especially when he looked at Zhang Yuefang, smiling with luggage on her back. He seemed ready to pounce and tear her apart.

Smart as she was, Gao Xiaohui quietly moved out of Damao’s sight and went to Chen Weidang’s house for refuge.

Sure enough, Damao, regaining his senses, wanted to find her but couldn’t. It wasn’t until Cuihua came with a broom, ready to hit someone, that his rationality returned.

“Chen Damao, you set my house on fire, didn’t you? Where’s the homemade gun?”

“What fire? What gun? Li Huan, even though you’re village chief, I’m not afraid of you.”

“I’ll ask you again—did you set my house on fire? Did you take my gun?”

“No! I’m not that idle to care about your house. If you’re fine, please go. Don’t scare my wife—she’s pregnant.”

Li Huan glanced at a pale-faced Gao Xiaohui, ready to say something, but suddenly, he didn’t want to say anything at all. He would watch how the two of them would handle this…