Old Man Weng covered his bleeding forehead, leaning against the cold earthen wall, his eyes filled with such venomous resentment that they seemed to drip blood.
He glared at Jiang Chan, who stood before the crowd in Liushutun, her face pale but her eyes still icy cold. His voice was hoarse, filled with deep-seated hatred, "Fine! Very well! This blood debt is all thanks to that bitch!"
He pointed the knife at Jiang Chan, his voice suddenly rising, filled with a desperate madness, "If she hadn't struck first and instigated your resistance, I wouldn't have bothered! This whole mess is her doing! She's the culprit!"
He took a deep breath, looked around at the people of Liushutun, and threw out his final condition: "Now! I only have one request! Hand over this bastard! Let me deal with him! Then, all of you—get out of Wengjia Village immediately! I guarantee I won't lay a finger on you!"
He stared intently at Village Chief Chen, his tone chilling, "Otherwise..." He glanced suggestively at the knife Tie Niu was pressing against Aunt Zhao's chest, his voice filled with a ruthless, all-or-nothing intensity, "I'll stab this woman to death right now! Then, the rest of us will fight you bastards to the death! Let's see how many more of you end up on the ground! Anyway, it's already come to this, I have nothing to lose! You choose!"
"Ugh... Waaah..." Aunt Zhao wanted to curse, but the knife tip pushed in half a step further, scaring her into immediately shutting up, leaving only desperate sobs.
"No! Don't hurt anyone!" Her husband was so anxious he almost knelt down. "Everything can be discussed! Don't be impulsive! Let's talk this out!"
Her son also pleaded desperately, "Don't kill my mother! Please, don't kill my mother!"
The pressure, like a heavy millstone, once again weighed heavily on the hearts of everyone in Liushutun.
Should we hand over Jiang Chan, the "instigator," in exchange for everyone's safety?
Or should they refuse, risking Aunt Zhao's life and causing even more casualties?
Everyone's gaze was involuntarily drawn to the pale-faced, silent girl.
Old Man Weng's ultimatum, a declaration of annihilation, crashed into the crowd in Liushutun like a heavy boulder.
In the deathly silence, every face was filled with struggle and bewilderment.
Hand over Jiang Chan? She really did a huge favor! She was the first to see through the traffickers' scheme, alerting the village chief and finding a way to protect the women! Without her, everyone might have really been captured and sold!
But... if she hadn't suddenly killed someone, shattering that eerie balance... perhaps... perhaps we could still talk?
Didn't Old Man Weng say before that he would let those who were awake leave?
Aunt Zhao won't have a knife to her throat! And no one on our side will get hurt or fall down!
And now? Aunt Zhao trembles under the knife! Her companion lies on the ground, wailing in agony! Several people on the other side are dead, their eyes bloodshot! If the fighting continues? Who can still lift a stick? Who can still withstand the knives and axes? Will she be the next to fall? Or… her own wife and children?
"No! You mustn't hand over Sister Jiang! Waaah..." Xiao Tao's shrill cries tore through the oppressive silence!
Like a frightened little animal, she clung tightly to Jiang Chan's waist, her small body bursting with tremendous strength, her tears and snot covering Jiang Chan's body.
She looked up at the adults around her with a terrified expression, especially when she saw the pleading look in Aunt Zhao's husband's eyes and the fierce face of Old Man Weng. She felt a cold, immense fear that would separate her from Sister Jiang!
"Sister Jiang is a good person! Waaah... She saved us! Don't arrest her! Don't!" Xiao Tao cried out, her voice hoarse, filled with helplessness and despair.
She gripped Jiang Chan's icy hand tightly, her whole body trembling.
This innocent cry pierced some people's hearts like a needle, bringing a brief moment of guilt.
But some people seemed to have had their minds awakened.
“Village…Village Chief…” Wu Lao Er’s voice rang out again, with a deliberately low tone, yet wanting everyone to hear. He shrank his neck, his eyes darting away as he looked at the injured Old Man Wang and the unconscious man. “You…you see…the situation now…everyone’s injured…no one has the strength…if we fight any longer…I’m afraid…I’m afraid we really can’t hold on…”
He paused, his gaze quickly sweeping over Jiang Chan before he lowered his head again, his voice even softer, "Or... how about... what Steward Weng suggested? Keep Jiang Chan... in exchange for... everyone's safety? She... she's all alone..."
He didn't dare finish his sentence, but the meaning was crystal clear—to exchange Jiang Chan's life for everyone else's.
Wu Lao Er's words were like pebbles thrown into a pond; they didn't elicit public agreement, but they created silent ripples among the crowd.
Aunt Zhao's husband opened his mouth, looked at the gleaming knife tip on his wife's neck, then at the expressionless Jiang Chan, and finally closed his eyes in pain, lowered his head, his shoulders trembling violently.
He neither dared to voice his support for handing over Jiang Chan, nor did he have the courage to say something like, "Keep fighting, don't worry about my wife."
Old Wang clutched the wound on his arm, wincing in pain. He looked at Jiang Chan with a complicated expression, his lips moved, but in the end he only let out a heavy sigh and turned his face away.
The women, including Wu and Ma, who had previously defended Jiang Chan, now kept their mouths shut, clutching their children tightly, their eyes filled with fear as they avoided Jiang Chan's gaze.
They wanted to help her, but looking at the ferocious-looking Tie Niu and the blood flowing on the ground, they didn't even have the courage to speak.
Liu Dazhuang's chest heaved, his grip on the stick tightening and loosening. He wanted to say something, but looking at the deathly silent crowd and the village chief's furrowed brows, he could only grit his teeth and suppress his anger and resentment.
No one shouted angrily at Wu Lao Er for being ungrateful as before.
No one shouted "Fight to the death" or "Protect Jiang Yatou" anymore.
A heavy, suffocating silence enveloped the crowd in Liushutun.
Everyone, regardless of their previous stance, was now as if their hands, feet, and tongues were bound by invisible ropes.
They dared not look into Jiang Chan's eyes, nor into Weng Lao Jiu's fierce face, nor into Aunt Zhao's desperate gaze.
They stood silently, like a group of prisoners awaiting sentencing, placing all the pressure and all the choices heavily on the shoulders of the gaunt old man standing at the front—Village Chief Chen.
The air condensed.
Only Xiao Tao's suppressed sobs and Aunt Zhao's gurgling sounds as her throat was tightened were particularly jarring in the deathly silence.
Fear, like cold vines, entwines the hesitant heart.
His gaze toward Jiang Chan was filled with gratitude, but also a subtle mix of resentment and wavering.
All eyes were focused on Village Chief Chen's wrinkled face, which was now forced to make a cruel decision.
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