The lady selling breakfast at the street corner stopped frying the dough sticks and came over with a colander in hand.
"Oh, isn't this Hu Meiling? Has she gotten into trouble with her love affairs again?"
"Aunt Li's fighting ability is still as strong as ever!"
"Tsk tsk, she hooked up with someone's son again, and even her mother came to her house to beat her up!"
"Who doesn't know Hu Meiling?" This voice aroused everyone's endless imagination.
Hu Meiling was so embarrassed that her false eyelashes were crooked with anger, but she had to explain, "Auntie, please stop yelling! I... Ji Xing and I broke up a long time ago!"
"Broken?" Li Guifang slapped her hand away. "If it's broken, why would someone fight for you? You're kidding me!"
As the two of them were pulling each other, half of Hu Meiling's false eyelashes fell off and were hanging on her face, about to fall off.
Li Guifang's apron string also came loose and fluttered in the wind.
"I really don't know who hit me!" Hu Meiling cried, "How about...how about I pay you back?"
"Payment?" Li Guifang shouted even louder. "My son was beaten like this, can money solve the problem? I must go to the Ji family today and explain everything!"
"I'm not going!" Hu Meiling suddenly sat down on the ground. "My heel is broken! I can't walk anymore!"
Li Guifang looked down and saw that the high heels were indeed crooked.
Without saying a word, she bent down and broke off Hu Meiling's other heel: "Can you walk now?"
Uncle Wang, who was watching, chuckled: "Sister Li, you are quite skillful!"
Hu Meiling looked at her two flat shoes and burst into tears: "My Staccato!"
"What's the point of saying death? I'm not going to kill you yet!" Li Guifang pulled her away, "Hurry up, don't waste time!"
The two of them pulled each other again, and Hu Meiling hurriedly opened her imitation leather purse and took out a stack of crumpled bills.
Dark brown, worker-peasant-soldier green, Great Unity, green machine tool two yuan, brown five cents, gray ten cents, and a few grain and oil coupons mixed in.
"Aunt, here, I give it all to you, is it enough?" She didn't even have time to count how much money there was in these banknotes!
Li Guifang sneered and took out a few 1.5-cent notes. "Hu Meiling, do you think my Mingyuan is a beggar?"
She suddenly raised it and waved it. "Look everyone! Hu Meiling had my son beaten up so badly that his face was covered in bruises, and she just gave him a few notes to get rid of him!"
Aunt Zhang, who was watching the fun, immediately chimed in: "That's right! Now it costs 50 cents to register at the hospital!"
Hu Meiling was so anxious that she almost fainted, but she could easily ask for money. "Then, then add another twenty!"
She fished inside the mink fur again and pulled out two large, folded solidarity notes. "Is this all right?"
Li Guifang snatched the money away, but still held onto her mink collar and said, "Medical expenses: 70, mental damage compensation: 30, lost work compensation: 20!"
If you give me even a penny less, I'll go to the street office radio station right now and let all the neighbors know about your little affair with Ji Xing, and let everyone know that you're a bus driver!
Hu Meiling's face turned pale and she said in a panic, "Okay, okay, okay, you count it and guarantee it's enough. If there's still something missing, I'll go get it now! I'll pay for it, I'll pay for it all..."
Li Guifang counted and when she reached 120, she threw the rest of the money and her wallet back at her, saying, "Get out!"
If I see you hooking up with my son again, I'll make you famous in Ji City!
Hu Meiling picked up her wallet and ran away limping in her high heels without heels.
Li Guifang waited a moment longer before adding, looking back at her, "Tell your mistress Ji Xing that this isn't over yet!"
Li Mingyuan squatted behind the soy sauce shop and witnessed the whole farce.
He touched his shiny, swollen face and cursed inwardly, "Hu Meiling, just wait, I'm not done with you!
And that damn Director Zheng, if it weren't for you, would I have gotten this beating?"
Then he covered his face again, buried his head in his collar, and wailed in his heart: Mom, are you trying to help me seek justice, or do you want me to be completely socially destroyed?
He finally understood that compared to street thugs, an angry mother is the real social nuclear weapon.
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