Pei Wuwang's second uncle chimed in, "Exactly! I told you long ago that he was too headstrong and would get into trouble sooner or later, and sure enough..."
Among the crowd, only Pei Wuwang's grandmother, the kind-looking old lady, remained silent.
He simply stared quietly at his grandson in the prison van, his eyes filled with complex emotions.
Shen Qingtang looked at her, a hint of coldness flashing in her eyes.
In his previous life, when he encountered a mudslide on his way to exile, it was this "kind" old lady who was there.
At the critical moment of life and death, he pushed the seriously injured Pei Wuwang into the deep pit.
She climbed up by stepping on his body, using him as her cushion.
Beneath that kind and gentle face of the old woman lies a selfish and cold-hearted heart.
For some reason, she felt a slight stirring in her heart when she saw the little boy protecting his father in the prison van.
The officers in charge impatiently urged Pei Wuwang to change into prison clothes.
His wounds were still bleeding.
His face was ashen, and even the slightest movement was extremely difficult; his fate was uncertain.
"Father..." The little boy next to him was so anxious that his eyes turned red.
Standing like a little adult, he shielded Pei Wuwang, tilting his head back and pleading with the official, "Could...could you wait a bit? My father is badly injured..."
The officer, already irritated, cursed viciously, "Change my ass! What nonsense are you spouting!"
The little boy shrank back as he was scolded.
Yet she stubbornly protected her father, pursing her lips and refusing to give way.
Shen Qingtang watched this scene, and a strange feeling stirred within her. She took out a silver ingot from her sleeve.
He stepped forward and handed the document to the official, his voice calm: "Sir, this child is just being filial. Let them have their time; it won't make a difference if they wait a little longer."
The official weighed the silver in his hand; it was quite heavy. His expression softened, and he snorted, "Since you're sensible, I'll give you a moment's grace." With that, he turned to greet the others.
The little boy turned and glanced at Shen Qingtang, his eyes, which had been cold before, now held a glimmer of hope.
A faint, damp light appeared on her face, and her voice, soft yet clear, said, "Thank you, Auntie."
Jiaojiao watched with envy and couldn't help but sneer, "You're so blind! You're so good to a prisoner's bastard child. When I grow up, I won't take care of you in your old age!"
"I wouldn't dare count on you." Shen Qingtang glanced at her, her tone icy. "With your temperament, you'll be lucky if you don't become a freeloader in the future."
Jiaojiao was speechless after being rebuked, and her face puffed up with anger.
Just then, the little boy suddenly walked up to Shen Qingtang and knelt down with a "plop".
Shen Qingtang was taken aback.
Just as I was about to help him up, I heard him say in a voice that was trembling with tears but unusually firm, "Auntie, please save my father! If you can save him, I will serve you like a slave for the rest of my life and I will never regret it!"
His small body knelt on the ground, his back ramrod straight.
His eyes were full of pleading and determination, without a trace of the cowardice he had shown just moments before.
Shen Qingtang smiled at the little boy, her tone softening: "How did you know I could save your father?" She was puzzled.
The little boy pursed his lips, but his eyes lit up. He suddenly took a step closer and whispered, "Auntie, I smell herbs on you, the kind that smell really nice."
Shen Qingtang raised an eyebrow; this child was quite perceptive.
She didn't explain, but simply bent down and looked at Pei Wuwang in the prison cart.
The little boy quickly bowed, his voice soft and respectful: "Thank you, Auntie."
Shen Qingtang looked puzzled. She took out a water pouch filled with spiritual spring water from her spatial storage, and also took out a clean strip of cloth and a small jar of strong liquor.
She first poured strong liquor onto the strips of cloth to disinfect them, then deftly untied Pei Wuwang's prison uniform from behind.
The wounds were shocking, with crisscrossing whip marks that were deep enough to expose the bone, clearly indicating that the victim had been brutally attacked.
Pei Wuwang remained silent throughout, even when the cloth strips touched his wounds and he tensed up, cold sweat beading on his forehead, he still didn't utter a sound.
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