Reborn a day later, I emptied my enemy's possessions beforehand.

Wang Jinshan carried his hoe and took two steps forward, blending into the crowd of onlookers.

The news that village chief Sun Deming slapped Wang Aiju yesterday has already spread throughout Chenjia Village. Everyone was angry and ran back to their parents' home after learning that Wang Aiju had been slapped.

Now that she's brought her two older brothers from her maternal family back to Chenjia Village, she's probably there to settle scores with Sun Deming.

Everyone became interested; this was going to be interesting.

Chen Guoqiang realized the situation was bad. He frowned, took his straw hat off his head and clutched it in his hand, then quickly followed.

He was, after all, the production team leader; he couldn't ignore something that happened in the village.

Zhou Haiqing stood at the door of the clinic, watching Wang Aiju and her two brothers' angry backs, then glancing at the reactions of the villagers nearby, and muttered:

"Brother, it seems Aunt Wang went to settle scores with the village chief. Should we go check on her?"

She asked aloud if she wanted some, but her feet had already unconsciously moved forward half an inch, her little face showing an expression of barely suppressed curiosity and excitement.

The little girl's natural inclination to watch the excitement surfaced at this moment, and her gaze followed the group of people as they ran past, almost forgetting that she had just been thinking about whether medicinal herbs could be grown on the back mountain.

Zhou Haibing turned his head to look at her, then at Li Su'e standing beside him, and his lips twitched slightly:

"Anyway, I don't have anything else to do right now, so I might as well go and see what's going on."

He beckoned to Li Su'e, and the three of them followed the crowd, walking at a leisurely pace at the back of the line, keeping an inconspicuous distance from those who were rushing ahead.

Wang Aiju, along with her two older brothers, rushed all the way to Sun Deming's doorstep.

The dark red wooden door was closed, the latch was on from the inside, and the faint sounds of clinking bowls and chopsticks and talking could be heard from inside the courtyard.

Wang Aiguo walked in front, and without saying a word, he kicked the wooden door hard.

The thick wooden planks thudded with a dull thud, the bolt was jolted loose from the inside, and the hinges of the wooden door creaked with a piercing groan.

The door suddenly slammed open inward, hit the wall, bounced back, and swayed back and forth twice before stopping.

Wang Aiguo, carrying the wooden stick, strode across the threshold, followed by Wang Aihua, with Wang Aiju bringing up the rear, shouting loudly and shrilly into the house:

"Sun Deming! You bastard, get out here right now!"

There was a small square table in the courtyard, with several bowls of thin porridge and a dish of pickled vegetables on it.

Sun Deming sat in the main seat, holding a rough porcelain bowl in his hand. He had just taken a sip of porridge and hadn't had time to swallow it yet.

Sun Guiying and Sun Guixiang sat opposite him, one with her head down drinking porridge, and the other reaching for a dish of pickled vegetables.

The youngest, Sun Guiwu, was squatting by the threshold, slurping down a bowl of thin porridge.

When Wang Aiguo kicked the door open, Sun Deming hadn't even swallowed his porridge yet. The sudden noise startled him so much that he choked.

The rim of the bowl bumped against his chin, and a few grains of rice rolled down his jaw and landed on his clothes.

He looked up and saw the Wang brothers, Aiguo and Aihua, already standing in the courtyard, both glaring at him with fierce expressions.

Wang Aiguo slammed the wooden stick in his hand onto the ground, like the first sound of a battering ram striking a city gate.

The hard, dry wooden stick struck the brick floor with a dull, loud thud, creating a crack in the air in the yard.

Sun Deming quickly put down his bowl and stood up, forcing a forced, apologetic smile—the kind he always wore in the village—his voice carrying a dry politeness and a hint of guilt:

"Brother-in-law, you're here so early! Have you eaten yet? Come in and sit down for a bite to eat—"

Before he could finish speaking, Wang Aiguo slammed his hand on the square table.

"Grandson, who wants to eat your breakfast!"

The bowls and chopsticks on the table were shaken and jumped up. The rough porcelain bowl that held porridge overturned, spilling thin porridge all over the table, which then dripped down the edge of the table and onto the muddy ground.

Sun Guiwu was squatting nearby, drinking porridge, when the sudden noise startled him so much that he almost dropped the bowl.

Before he could even swallow the porridge in his mouth, he shouted incoherently, his voice urgent and sharp, carrying the instinctive anger of a young man whose meal had been interrupted:

"What are you doing! You knocked over my bowl!"

Wang Aiguo turned and glared at him, his gaze like two iron hooks just pulled from cold water, his eyes filled with a fierce intensity devoid of any warmth.

"Kid, you have no right to speak here, shut up!"

Sun Guiwu's mouth shut in that instant, he shrank back, and didn't dare to say another word.

Wang Aihua had already grabbed Sun Deming by the collar.

His short, thick, and strong fingers gripped the collar of Sun Deming's slightly worn blue cotton jacket, pulling him forward a step until his face was almost touching Sun Deming's nose.

His voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth, rough and muffled, carrying an anger that he had been mentally rehearsing all night:

"Sun Deming, I'm asking you, why did you hit my sister yesterday? Who gave you the guts?"

Sun Deming's neck was constricted by the collar, making it difficult for him to breathe, and his voice was muffled by the tight collar.

He managed a weak upward tug at the corners of his mouth, but the smile couldn't hold on to his chapped lips, like a plaster that wouldn't stick properly.

"Brother-in-law... listen to me... I don't know what happened to me yesterday, it was like I was possessed by a ghost..."

I don't even remember what I did... You want me to hit Aiju? I wouldn't dare even if you gave me a hundred lives...

Wang Aihua snorted coldly, her voice rough like a stone hitting another stone:

"Stop trying to fool us with that ghost possession nonsense! You just need to be taught a lesson! We're here today to get justice for my sister!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than his hand came down hard, slapping Sun Deming across the face.

A crisp sound rang out in the courtyard, exactly the same as the slap Sun Deming gave Wang Aiju yesterday.

It was just stronger and louder, like a piece of dried-out firewood being broken in half. The sound bounced back and forth between the brick walls twice before slowly dissipating.

Sun Deming was so badly hit that he swayed to the side, staggered a couple of steps, and collapsed to the ground with his knees buckling. One side of his face visibly swelled up.

Wang Aiguo and Wang Aihua didn't stop; the two of them surrounded him from the left and right.

Wang Aihua's punches and kicks landed on Sun Deming's back and shoulders, each punch carrying a gust of wind, the muffled impacts echoing one after another.

Wang Aiguo's wooden stick was useless, so he threw it in the corner and joined in the punching and kicking. Every kick was solid, raising a cloud of fine dust on the muddy ground.

Sun Deming curled up on the ground, covering his head with his hands, and mumbled something:

"Stop hitting me...stop hitting me...I was wrong...I'll apologize..."