Zhang Xinglian can escape, but Chen Xuezhi definitely can’t!
"Yes! What we saw with our own eyes was what was in Chen Xuezhi's own room. She admitted it herself."
Many people still remember the process of arresting Chen Xuezhi, and of course they would not listen to her explanation.
"I...I didn't, it has nothing to do with me!"
"It doesn't matter. How could that thing be in your room? You go in and out every day, how could you not know?" Zhang Xingrong pressed aggressively. "The evidence is all here, and you still want to make excuses!"
Chen Xuezhi finally experienced what it meant to be mute and suffer in silence. She was filled with resentment: "Your brother is still killing people! Everyone, don't forget, we're here to try Zhang Hewu today! Zhang Hewu killed Li Wutie. People from Lijia Village, are you mute? Zhang Hewu has come to your village to kill people, and you're still not saying anything!"
The people in Lijia Village were so engrossed in watching the play that they almost forgot about Li Wutie.
It was Uncle Li Wutie who finally reacted. He pointed at Zhang Hewu and shouted, "Yes, Zhang Hewu killed my nephew. He should be shot!"
"You're the one who got shot. Your whole family got shot. Li Wutie was saved by me personally. You're not going to get shot!" Zhang Xingrong yelled at him. "Ever since I saved Li Wutie, I haven't seen you go to see him. How can you pretend to be a good person?"
Uncle Li Wu was so choked up that he couldn't utter a word. Li Wutie was dying, and he was so happy because he could claim his family's house. But Li Wu wasn't dead yet, so he wouldn't get anything. Why would he go see him? No way!
"But...but he beat Li Wu to a disability, he should be sent to labor camp!" Uncle Li Wu couldn't help shouting.
Ma Le then said, "We called everyone here today to discuss this matter. We asked the army and the county police to work together to find evidence. We conducted technical tests and found new evidence."
Zhang Xingrong looked at Sun Shaoqiang in surprise. She hadn't expected him to contact the county police. She hadn't originally thought it would take too much time to contact them. It would be much faster to contact Sun Shaoqiang, since he was an acquaintance after all.
Sun Shaoqiang nodded at her: "I'll discuss it with Ma Le. It would be more convincing if the county police came over."
Zhang Xingrong was very grateful. She only saw Sun Shaoqiang's men and a man in police uniform come out together, holding evidence in their hands. On the other side, Li Wu's mother was also called out.
Ma Le pointed at the evidence and asked, "Mother Li Wu, this is the clothes your son was wearing when he was taken to the hospital, right?"
The clothes were spread out on the table, tattered and smelly.
Li Yanling took a closer look and saw some blood on the clothes, but it was not clear. The clothes were dark blue, dirty, and smelly, so even if there was blood, it would be hard to see, let alone fingerprints.
Li Wu's mother went over to take a closer look and nodded, "Yes, yes, I embroidered my son's name on the collar and trouser legs! I gave the clothes to Zhang Xingrong!"
Zhang Xingrong nodded. "These two pieces of clothing are evidence. I've given them to Uncle Ma and Uncle Sun for testing."
"Yes," Ma Le nodded. "We asked the army and public security comrades to conduct tests together. We found three different blood fingerprints and palm prints on the two clothes. We compared them, and one of the blood fingerprints was from the doctor. We investigated, and the fingerprints were left by the doctor when he saved someone. The other palm print was from Zhang Goudan. Zhang Goudan, did you kill someone?"
Everyone looked at Zhang Goudan who was standing at the edge of the stage.
"I didn't!" Zhang Goudan was horrified. "I saw someone lying on the ground at the town gate and sent him to the hospital. How could I kill someone? If you don't believe me, ask the people in Zhangjia Village. I've always been with them!"
The people in Zhangjia Village nodded one after another, and Zhang Goudan finally breathed a sigh of relief.
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