Dare to shirk responsibility? This adorable little one will tear down your military district!

The carriage was so quiet that the only sound was the pig-like screams of the man in blue overalls.

Blood dripped from his deformed forearm onto the linoleum floor, forming a small puddle.

Meng Yaya stood on her seat, the rusty rebar in her hand still dripping red liquid.

She didn't wipe it, but just tilted her head and played with that deadly iron rod, her gaze fixed on the trembling old woman.

"Weren't you quite talkative just now?" Meng Yaya took a small step forward, her foot landing on the still slightly wriggling burlap sack. "Have you gone mute?"

The woman's back was pressed tightly against the car window, her thick layer of fat trembling. She glanced at her accomplice rolling on the ground, then at the little girl in front of her who wasn't even as tall as the stove, and made strange gurgling sounds in her throat.

This isn't a three-year-old baby; it's clearly a living devil.

"Everyone...everyone, don't believe her..." The woman tried to struggle, pointing at Lin Wanrou, "This woman is insane, inciting children to commit murder..."

"Murder?"

Meng Yaya sneered, too lazy to refute. She suddenly plunged the rebar in her hand downwards.

With a "poof" sound.

The steel bar was pressed tightly against the woman's inner thigh and embedded in the blue cloth bundle.

The woman screamed in fright.

With a flick of her wrist, Meng Yaya sent the rebar, along with its wrapping, flying out. The wrapping unfurled, and its contents spilled onto the ground.

What fell out were several rolls of coarse hemp rope, a few pieces of rags that smelled of ether, and two folding knives that were polished to a shine.

The expressions of the passengers watching the commotion around them changed.

Who brings these things when visiting relatives?

"What's this?" Meng Yaya pointed to the hemp rope on the ground with the steel bar tip. "Is it for tying the wings of chickens?"

Before the aunt could speak, Meng Yaya turned around and slammed the tool in her hand into the sack at her feet.

This time she used a clever technique.

The rusty steel bar tip pierced the rough burlap sack with the same swiftness as a paper cutter.

The sack was open, revealing a small, dark head.

A young man wearing glasses who was nearby peeked inside, then jumped up as if he'd been burned, pointing at the sack and shouting, "A...a child! There's a child inside!"

With a loud bang, the entire carriage erupted in chaos.

Meng Yaya bent down and ripped open the sack.

Inside, a little boy of about four or five years old was curled up. He was wearing a fine little suit, his mouth was stuffed with walnuts, his hands and feet were tightly bound with the same kind of thick hemp rope, his eyes were closed, and his face was turning purple from the strain.

"What a bunch of sycophants!"

"Kill these beasts!"

Several burly young men rolled up their sleeves and rushed forward to hold the older woman down.

Just then, the man in the Zhongshan suit who had been sitting at the other end of the aisle reading a newspaper moved.

He threw down the newspaper in his hand, reached into his coat, and rushed towards Lin Wanrou, who was closest to him.

As long as they capture a major hostage, these people won't dare to make a move, and they won't dare to touch that strange little girl either.

A boning knife flashed coldly in the dim light, heading straight for Lin Wanrou's neck.

"Mom! Kneel down!"

Meng Yaya shouted, but her hands moved even faster than her mouth.

She couldn't throw the rebar; it was the only long weapon she had, and if she threw it away, it would be gone.

She grabbed the army-green tin kettle filled with hot water from the table and smashed it with all her might.

"Bang!"

The kettle traced an arc in the air and struck the wrist of the man in the Zhongshan suit.

The force of the smash was extraordinary; the tin kettle was dented, the lid flew off, and scalding hot water splashed all over the man's face.

"what!"

The man in the Zhongshan suit screamed, dropping the knife he was holding to the ground.

But he was a tough guy; with his face covered in blisters, he went straight for the knife.

"Dream on."

A small figure sprang from the seat.

Meng Yaya stepped on the man in the blue overalls' stomach for leverage and crashed into the man in the Zhongshan suit like a small cannonball.

She held the rebar horizontally, pressing it firmly against the man's throat, forcing him back several steps and slamming him heavily against the metal plate connecting the two carriages.

"Cough...cough cough..."

The man's eyes rolled back as he was stuck, and he tried to pry the steel bar open with both hands.

But he discovered that the thin iron rod was more stable in the three-year-old's hands than if it were welded to a wall. The strange force was so strong it felt like his trachea would break.

Meng Yaya's feet dangled in the air, her entire body hanging from the steel bars, her small face pressed against the man's chin, her tone chilling:

"Move even slightly, and I'll make a vent in your throat."

The doors at both ends of the carriage were pushed open forcefully.

"Don't move! What are you doing?!"

Several uniformed train police officers pushed through the crowd and rushed in, carrying batons and guns bulging at their waists.

The veteran train police officer in charge was stunned by the scene before him.

On the ground lay a man with a missing arm, a fat woman pinned to the ground by the crowd, and a man with his eyes rolled back as he was pinned against the wall by a three-year-old toddler.

The scene looked incredibly bizarre.

"Police...police officers!" Lin Wanrou finally came to her senses, tears streaming down her face. Pointing at the three men, she cried, "They're human traffickers! They kidnapped my daughter! And they've kidnapped other children too!"

She rushed over and hugged Meng Yaya tightly, who was still holding on, her hands trembling.

Meng Yaya felt her mother's body temperature, and the fierce light in her eyes instantly disappeared.

She let go, and the rebar clattered to the ground.

The next second, she burst into tears.

The crying was earth-shattering and ghost-weeping, even more tragic than the howl of the man in blue overalls just now.

"Waaaaah... Officer, help me!"

Meng Yaya buried her head in Lin Wanrou's neck, her small body trembling, and pointed at the half-dead man in a Zhongshan suit on the ground:

"He pulled out a knife and tried to kill my mom! He even said he'd rip out my heart and liver to eat with his drinks! It terrified Ya Ya!"

The man in the Zhongshan suit clutched his neck, listening to this distorted and fabricated story, and was so angry that he almost spat out blood.

Who's scaring whom here?

Your grip was so strong it almost sent me flying, why are you pretending to be a delicate little white flower now?

The veteran train police officer glanced at the gleaming boning knife on the ground, then at the unconscious little boy being carried out of the sack by a kind person, his face turning ashen.

The perpetrator was caught red-handed.

"Cuff them all!" The veteran train police officer waved his hand, and several young officers behind him immediately pounced on them and handcuffed the three human traffickers who were still whining and moaning.

The surrounding passengers all chimed in with their accounts of what had just happened.

Of course, in their description, Meng Yaya was a "little angel who was driven to desperation," a filial child who "unleashed amazing potential to save her mother."

As for the arm that was broken off by a steel bar?

That's called self-defense, that's called serving one's right!

The crowd gradually dispersed, and the railway police began to clear the scene.

The little boy who had been rescued then woke up.

He looked around in confusion at first, but when he saw the people in police uniforms around him, he didn't cry and make a fuss like a normal child. Instead, he was surprisingly calm.

Although his face turned blue from being suffocated and his wrists were covered in marks from the straps, he still struggled to stand up straight and straighten his wrinkled suit jacket.

He walked up to Lin Wanrou and Meng Yaya.

Lin Wanrou was wiping the dust off Meng Yaya's face with a handkerchief, still muttering to herself in fear.

The little boy stared at Meng Yaya, who was pretending to cry while nestled in her mother's arms, for a few seconds. His lips twitched, especially when he saw her peeking out from between her fingers to observe her surroundings.

"Thanks."

The little boy spoke; his voice was hoarse, but it carried a maturity beyond his years.

Meng Yaya stopped faking her crying and peeked out from Lin Wanrou's arms.

This kid is quite handsome, with a dashing air about him; he looks like he was raised in a privileged environment.

"You're welcome." Meng Yaya sniffed and said in her childish voice, "Just remember to pay."