Chapter 21 Killing Zhao Qingda
The eve of the Lunar New Year ended with Zhao Qingda being forced by Li Yugu to stay overnight in the east wing.
The old woman seemed to use all her strength to push her son into the house. Standing outside the door, her voice was firm and resolute: "You're not going anywhere tonight! Just stay here! Think about what you've done!"
Inside the main room, Wen Xiaoxiao stood there with her hands and feet ice-cold.
She did not return to the east wing immediately.
Instead, she went to the main room, turned on the light, and brought out the sewing machine and the pile of new fabric prepared for the New Year.
With the Chinese New Year approaching, everyone needs a presentable outfit, even if it's just for their own sake.
She needed to do something, to fill the terrifying silence with that familiar tapping sound.
She took out a measuring tape and measured herself.
The ruler wrapped around her waist, and the number was smaller than the last time it was recorded. She had lost weight again.
This realization left her feeling utterly desolate.
These days, the stolen warmth doesn't seem to be able to truly offset the torment this body is enduring.
The sound of the sewing machine stubbornly echoed through the night, penetrating the thin walls.
In the west wing, Li Yugu lay on the bed, listening to the clattering sound that continued until the latter half of the night, and let out a long sigh in the darkness.
She could force her son to come back, but she couldn't force her daughter-in-law's heart.
Inside the main house, Zhao Fei also didn't sleep a wink all night.
He lay on the bed fully clothed, his ears perked up, listening for every sound in the courtyard.
He was prepared. If any more strange noises came from the east wing, he would rush in, regardless of brotherly affection or airing his dirty laundry in public. He vowed to break that beast's legs!
At three in the morning, the sound of the sewing machine finally stopped.
Wen Xiaoxiao dragged her cold body to the door of the east wing.
She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The room was pitch black, and Zhao Qingda was already asleep, snoring loudly.
She groped her way to the other end of the kang (a heated brick bed), lying down as far away from him as possible, wide awake.
It was five in the morning, and it was still dark.
Zhao Qingda was woken up by the urge to urinate and groggily got up.
After returning from relieving himself of the water, I saw, in the dim light filtering through the window paper, a figure curled up on the kang (a heated brick bed) with his back to me.
He quietly climbed onto the kang (a heated brick bed), his body radiating coolness, and approached her from behind, embracing her tightly and covering her mouth with his hand.
A familiar fear instantly gripped my entire body!
Her mouth was tightly covered, obstructing her breathing, and she began to struggle violently, pushing and kicking him with her hands and feet.
"Ugh... ugh...!" She couldn't utter a complete sound.
Her resistance seemed to provoke Zhao Qingda.
A wicked smile curled at the corner of his mouth as he roughly tore at her clothes with his other hand, pinching her soft flesh, especially her back, with all his might.
Wen Xiaoxiao was in so much pain that her whole body convulsed, and tears streamed down her face.
Looking at Zhao Qingda, who was committing violence, she was filled with rage. She reached out and grabbed his neck with both hands: "Go to hell!"
Wen Xiaoxiao's desperate resistance caught Zhao Qingda off guard. He tried to pry Wen Xiaoxiao's fingers open, and her knuckles turned white.
Wen Xiaoxiao released her grip in pain, but her foot kicked Zhao Qingda in the stomach without mercy!
Zhao Qingda was suddenly kicked off the kang (a heated brick bed), and Wen Xiaoxiao got up and waved a broom in the air.
Zhao Qingda looked at Wen Xiaoxiao, spat, pulled up his pants, and said, "Pah! What are you pretending to be, this virtuous woman?" He opened the door and went out. The courtyard gate opened and closed again, and the sound of the engine faded into the distance.
Wen Xiaoxiao lay slumped on the cold kang, the places on her back where she had been pinched and twisted burning with pain, undoubtedly new injuries had been inflicted.
Tears streamed down my face, trickling into my temples, icy cold.
The main hall and the main house were both quiet.
Zhao Fei, who had been on edge all night, finally succumbed to exhaustion and drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.
When he was awakened by the commotion in the courtyard, he only saw Zhao Qingda's hurried departure, while the door to the east wing was tightly closed and completely silent.
He frowned, feeling uneasy, but then he thought that there hadn't been any major commotion last night, so perhaps... Zhao Qingda had just gotten up early to drive.
Wen Xiaoxiao lay there for an unknown amount of time until the daylight outside the window fully broke.
She put on her clothes, but the buttons were fastened crookedly.
She walked up to the mirror, wiped her face hard with her sleeve, erasing the tear stains and the last trace of vulnerability.
I didn't eat breakfast.
She picked up the cloth bag and walked out of the east wing.
In the courtyard, Li Yugu was lighting the stove. Seeing her, he was somewhat surprised: "Xiaoxiao, so early? Aren't you going to eat something?"
"No, Mom, there's too much work at the shop." Wen Xiaoxiao lowered her head and quickly walked out of the yard.
Li Yugu watched her retreating figure, feeling that something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
In the evening, when Wen Xiaoxiao returned from the tailor shop, her steps were heavier than usual.
Pushing open the courtyard gate, I saw Zhao Qingda. He had actually returned and was squatting in the yard smoking, his face gloomy.
Wen Xiaoxiao's heart sank suddenly, and she subconsciously gripped the strap of the cloth bag tightly.
In that instant, an extreme and chilling thought flashed through my mind: kill him. Even if it means dying together.
She glanced at the honeycomb briquettes in the corner.
If he dares to torment her again... she'll poison him, stab him to death with scissors, and kill him with anything she can get her hands on...
Just as the suffocating atmosphere of murderous intent filled the air, the loud voice of the shopkeeper at the alley entrance rang out: "Qingda's family! Xiaoxiao! Phone call—! There's a phone call for you—!"
The shout was like a thunderclap, splitting open the dark vines in Wen Xiaoxiao's mind.
She trembled and turned her head blankly.
"They're calling you! Go answer them!" the landlady shouted again.
Wen Xiaoxiao walked towards the small shop at the entrance of the alley.
There was a red public telephone there. She picked up the receiver, her hands still trembling.
"Hello?" Her voice was dry.
"Xiaoxiao? It's me, big brother!" A familiar voice came from the other end of the phone.
It's Wenbin.
Her older brother works far away in the south.
"Big brother..." He only managed to call out once before his throat was blocked.
"Hey! Xiaoxiao, what's wrong with your voice? Did you catch a cold?" Wenbin asked with concern. "I'm almost done with my work here. My train leaves the day after tomorrow, the 26th of the twelfth lunar month. I probably won't arrive there until evening. I'll come see you and bring you some New Year's gifts. Are you... are you doing alright over there?"
My older brother is coming.
the day after tomorrow.
This news, like a faint ray of light, shone into Wen Xiaoxiao's heart, which was filled with murderous intent.
She also has family.
She is not truly alone.
The older brother who had protected her since childhood, who went out to work to support her after their parents passed away, and who always thought of her even when he was struggling himself, was coming to see her.
"I...I'm fine." She sniffed hard. "The day after tomorrow...I'll wait for you, big brother."
After hanging up the phone, Wen Xiaoxiao stood at the entrance of the convenience store. The cold winter wind blew on her face, but it couldn't dispel the warm current of hope rising in her heart.
The mad thought of mutual destruction receded like the tide.
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