spoiled brat

Chapter 99, Section 98: Self-Salvation (Part 8)

The straight man had already been arranged in the audience: "What do you mean by the money and grain of the Prince of Ning's mansion? It's true that the land was allocated to his family, but why should the granaries that we worked so hard to fill also belong to his family?"

"That's right! If the younger generation in our clan makes a mistake, it should be you, the clan leader, who should punish them! The Prince Ning's Mansion is powerful and oppressive. They beat more than a dozen juniors to death for a little money. Who knows how they will treat us in the future!"

The oil was poured on, igniting a fire, and the crowd was enraged. Fan Jin, quite pleased with what he saw, continued crying, "I also think it's not that bad. I advised Miss Yue to have mercy, but she..."

He seemed even more aggrieved when he didn't finish his sentence.

At this point, the supporting comedians in the audience shouted even louder: "Could it be that they didn't steal any money or grain at all, but instead caught the people from the Prince of Ning's mansion stealing our silver?! Their family was afraid of losing face, so they killed them to silence them and then turned around and accused them?!"

These words caused an uproar in the audience, with everyone filled with rage, like dry tinder that could ignite at the slightest spark.

Amidst the curses and murmurs, a sudden, thunderous voice boomed: "I'll fuck your ancestors for eighteen generations to death, you son of a bitch surnamed Fan!!!"

Most of those present were surnamed Fan, and one sentence from him had silenced an entire group. A moment of silence fell over the crowd, then a large rock suddenly flew out from the dense throng, striking Fan Jin squarely in the abdomen. His manhood severely injured, he writhed in agony on the stage, ordering his men to find the beast who had cut off his lineage.

"No need to look anymore! Your grandfathers are right here!"

One young man leaped onto the stage, followed by a dozen others, each wielding an ironwood club, seemingly unfazed by the murderous glares of the crowd below. Pointing at the hanging corpse from the beam, he declared emphatically, "Though the village is wealthy, it's nothing more than a drop in the ocean compared to our esteemed royal family! Why should we risk lives for a pittance?! This Fan fellow is stirring up trouble, openly and secretly instigating you to create chaos—"

Before he could finish speaking, a hail of stones rained down from below the stage. The villagers, already furious, refused to listen to any explanation and shouted viciously, "Get out of Fan Family Village! Get out of Fan Family Village!"

The dozen or so boys on the stage were smashed until their heads bled; several tumbled off the stage and were instantly overwhelmed by the rioters. Those still clinging to the stage were also beaten by Fan Jin's men. The blood-red sunset illuminated this farce, filled with curses and screams. Zhao Zhao watched from behind the thatched hut, and saw Fan Jin holding up a severed head—it was the boy who had helped her buy clothes that afternoon…

She took off running, snatched an old horse from somewhere, and headed straight for Yuan Yue's courtyard. Upon arriving, she tumbled off the horse, rushed through the gate, and shouted, "Miss Yue!" She ran all the way inside, where a maidservant, who had preceded her, was already angrily telling Yuan Yue, "That Fan fellow is a scoundrel..."

"That guy surnamed Fan is bringing men to kill us!" Zhao Zhao said.

Yuan Yue stopped dressing. She had just received the news and was about to go when the situation exploded.

Time was of the essence. As Zhao Zhao helped Yuan Yue put on her coat, she spoke of what was happening outside: "Since he dared to cause such a scene, he must have already prepared an escape route. Now that blood has been spilled, this won't end easily! Who knows how chaotic things will become? We need to hide for now!"

Yuan Yue panicked instantly. She quickly ordered her maid to gather the seals and receipts from the room, and then went outside to urge the servants to run together. But there was only one main road out of the manor—which way could they run?

But then they heard the clamor of public resentment rising up from a few hundred paces away. Without even seeing it, they could imagine how fierce it was, as if the people wanted to tear them apart!

"If we don't run now, it'll be too late!" The maids and servants grabbed their weapons and escorted Yuan Yue outside. Amidst the chaos and noise, Yuan Yue scanned every face around her and asked frantically, "Where are Granny Zhang and my sister?"

There was no response. With a thud, someone bumped out of the small east wing. Upon closer inspection, it was Zhao Zhao, her eyes bloodshot from searching.

While others fled with their belongings, she stood there empty-handed, questioning Yuan Yue, who was sheltered in the crowd, "Where is the Third Miss?"

Yuan Yue couldn't answer, and no one seemed to care much. The noise outside grew closer, and someone said that survival was the most important thing. Why bother with a baby girl they'd picked up? She wasn't even their own sister!

Zhao Zhao forced herself to remain calm and pushed her way through the crowd to leave.

"Going out now would be suicide!" Yuan Yue grabbed Zhao Zhao, but before she could speak, Zhao Zhao whirled around, her tear-filled eyes blazing with hatred: "What do you take her for! A puppet to show off her compassion? A cat or dog she can pick up and throw away as she pleases?! She is—"

Before she could finish speaking, a sudden chill ran down her neck, and Zhao Zhao fainted.

The man who had knocked Zhaozhao unconscious helped her up and pushed her towards Yuan Yue: "Miss Yue, don't blame yourself. I'll go find my wife myself. You two find a place to hide first. I guarantee I'll bring the Third Miss back!" With that, he picked up a wood-chopping knife and strode out of the courtyard.

-

“Zhao Zhao’er…”

“Zhao Zhao’er…”

Zhao Zhao walked in the darkness, surrounded by nothing, yet the calls came from all directions like a flood.

"Mother, is that you?" She looked around blankly, as if she had returned to her most vulnerable and helpless childhood: "Is it Xiaoduo? Mother Yu? Sister Liu'er?"

The voice didn't answer, but drifted away. Zhao Zhao chased after it, trying to hold onto it. Light gradually appeared before her eyes; she was about to grasp it, about to—

"You're awake."

The candlelight stung Zhao Zhao's eyes, and her neck ached. She could barely make out the person in front of her; it was Yuan Yue, who was holding a bowl of water to her lips.

Zhao Zhao turned her head away, somewhat impolitely. The maid muttered under her breath, "If you don't drink now, who knows if there will be any left later!"

The surroundings were dark and cold, with a few candles burning dimly, and the air was filled with the smell of wine. It was a wine cellar carved out of the mountain.

In the dim light, the crowd huddled together, their expressions filled with fear, saying that the village had erupted into chaos. Originally, the plan was simply to drive the people from the Prince of Ning's manor out of the village, but unexpectedly, the situation escalated, with many taking advantage of the chaos to loot, burn, and kill, behaving like bandits.

After a long while, Zhao Zhao's groggy mind cleared up a bit. She looked at Yuan Yue, who was discussing an escape route with someone, and asked, "Is the Third Miss still outside?"