Chapter 33: Turning the Tables

"Auntie Wang, did you say I hurt Old Man Zhang?" Lin Yang asked with a smile, though he had already guessed the truth.

He knew Old Man Zhang all too well. That man was a parasite who never missed an opportunity to profit at others' expense. When Lin Yang had demanded fifty pounds of rice and two hens, the old man must have been absolutely livid. He had only complied out of fear at the time, but once back in the village, there was no telling what kind of lies he would cook up.

Auntie Wang looked around to ensure no one was watching, then lowered her voice. "You’d better hurry home! Old Man Zhang just stormed over to your house with Zhang Xiumei and his two sons. He’s claiming you injured him and is demanding compensation, threatening to report you to the township authorities if you don't pay!"

Lin Yang’s eyes narrowed. His smile remained, but it now carried a chilling edge, like winter frost. "So the old rascal wants to turn the tables? Fine. Today, I’ll make sure he learns a lesson he won't forget, so he never dares to provoke me again."

Upon hearing the news, Lin Yang’s heart skipped a beat, and he rushed toward his home, anxious and frantic. Before he even reached the gate, the sharp, piercing sound of shouting hit his ears like a blade.

Zhang Xiumei was screaming at the top of her lungs with a voice like a broken gong: "That plague-ridden little beast, Lin Yang! He isn't human! He actually tried to murder my husband! Everyone, come and judge this for yourselves!"

She wailed and sobbed, throwing herself onto the ground and slapping her thighs rhythmically, putting on the classic performance of a town shrew. Tears and snot smeared her flushed face as she continued to shriek: "Is there no law? Is there no justice? How is a person supposed to live in these times?"

Zhao Guixiang was trembling with rage. She gritted her teeth, her cheeks puffed out, eyes burning with a fury that seemed ready to erupt. "Zhang Xiumei, you’re full of it! I’m his mother—do you think I don't know what kind of person my son is?!"

"How could he ever do something so wicked? Everyone in this village knows my son's character. Stop spewing these lies and slandering an innocent man!"

By now, the villagers had gathered outside the Lin family’s fence, drawn by the commotion. One man couldn't help but chime in: "She's right. If you told me Lin Yang got into a heated argument with Old Man Zhang, I’d believe you."

"But to say he held a knife to Old Man Zhang’s throat and sliced his hand? I really don't believe that."

"Lin Yang might be a bit rough, but he wouldn't go that far," another villager added. "That's right. Even if Lin Yang used to be a bit idle and shiftless, he never harmed anyone in the village! But Old Man Zhang? He's notorious for his greed. Is there anyone whose belongings he hasn't tried to snatch? I've never seen anyone so selfish."

Old Man Zhang’s reputation in the village was truly abysmal, and the villagers had long harbored grievances against him. In the summer, if he spotted even a small vegetable patch, he would sneak in and pilfer the crops when no one was looking. If confronted, he would shamelessly insist the produce was his own. As the saying goes, "There is no limit to the shameless." He was the living embodiment of that proverb. Everyone felt helpless against him; after all, who would fight to the death over a few vegetables? He was also known for constantly nudging boundary stones into his neighbors' fields. In his eyes, not taking advantage of others was equivalent to suffering a loss.

At this moment, Old Man Zhang stood to the side, his hand wrapped in thick, blood-stained burlap. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like a rabid dog. He felt that he couldn't let this go; he had to escalate the situation. If he could get Lin Yang sent to jail, make him suffer, and extort some money, only then would his anger be appeased.

He slowly raised his hand, feigning agonizing pain as he unwrapped the cloth. All eyes were fixed on the back of his hand. The wound was shockingly precise; the edges were clean, looking less like an accident and more like a deliberate cut from a sharp blade.

"Everyone, look closely!" Old Man Zhang shouted. "Do you really think I’d go this far, carving myself up just to frame Lin Yang?"

"Look at my throat, too! You can still see the bloodstains! Lin Yang really held a knife to my neck!"

"He even threatened to drag me into the deep mountains, carve me up, and feed me to the wild beasts. If this isn't attempted murder, what is? You all have to stand up for me! A dangerous character like him could turn on any of you at any moment!"

The villagers looked at one another, feeling uncertain. They did find the situation strange. Even a scoundrel like Old Man Zhang wouldn't go to such lengths to self-mutilate, would he? The cost was simply too high.

Lin Dahai stood nearby, his eyes full of worry. His son had obtained a gun only yesterday, and since he had left before the village was awake, most people hadn't seen him. With Old Man Zhang’s convincing performance and the visible wounds, it was possible the incident was real. But since his son hadn't returned yet, he couldn't speak up, choosing to observe the situation as it unfolded.

Seeing the crowd's hesitation, Zhang Xiumei cried even louder: "Dear neighbors, you must seek justice for us! Judge this for our family!"

"Lin Yang is a bully, a murderer! That little beast belongs in the lockup for fifty or sixty years, never to be let out again! He's a cursed little animal!"

Her insults grew increasingly vile, a barrage of filth pouring from her mouth. Just then, Lin Yang’s hearty laugh rang out from outside the crowd.