The little girl turned her head and saw a rather bloated woman hidden in the shadows not far away. The woman was not good-looking, and in the dim light, her face was somewhat sinister. The little girl almost screamed.
With others around, she suppressed her fear and timidly said, "Old man, if you have something to say, you can't say it without evidence." The little girl's mother was a constable and often told her interesting stories about reporting crimes. Her mother often said, "To arrest and convict someone, you must have evidence. You can't let subjective opinions be influenced by rumors. That way, you won't wrongly accuse anyone."
Although she was a little afraid of this fierce-looking old man, she didn't want Mo Cizui to be wrongly accused, so even though she was afraid, she still spoke up to refute him.
The little girl's word "old man" made Yang Han's already ugly face even more gloomy. Her hands were shaking, and she was trying hard not to slap him.
Yang Han was fifty-six years old. At her age, many people would be grandmothers, or even great-grandmothers. But Yang Han refused to accept her age. She hated husbands who were old and faded, so she took a young and beautiful maid and often spent a lot of money on rouge to make herself look younger.
Once, there was a newly bought maid who called her "old lady". She was immediately slapped dozens of times and then sold to a brothel.
Now, facing strangers, she couldn't lose her temper.
"Since you don't believe it, just wait."
When the little girl saw the old man curl his lips and smile under the dim lantern, she felt a chill down her spine. After the man left with a flick of his sleeves, the little girl withdrew her timid gaze, took a deep breath, picked up the pen and wrote her name without hesitation.
-
"Xiao Ci, is that your storybook? There are so many people gathered there watching it." The next day, Qing'er didn't need to help in Yipinzhai, so she brought Chen Ci to the competition venue.
Before she got close, her eyes fell on Mo Cizui's book. There were many people there, only slightly fewer than a crabapple branch on the other side.
Qing'er's beautiful eyes were filled with excitement and joy: "The storyteller is just about to start a story. Come on, Xiaoci, accompany your brother to listen."
Looking at his brother's happy eyes, and then looking at his hand held by his brother, Shen Ci pursed his lips and smiled, letting Qing'er pull him through the crowd.
"...The fire in Xuancheng burned for three days and three nights, burning all the corpses, vegetation, and other things. The plague and fire in Xuancheng shook the entire Dasheng court. The emperor sent people to find out why Jiang Liang destroyed Xuancheng, but found nothing. The people only thought Jiang Liang was a murderous demon. It was a pity that his father died while suppressing bandits. He should have been a hero, but he raised someone like Jiang Liang.
After Jiang Liang's death, the indignant people dug up the coffins of Jiang Liang's parents and fed their bones to wild dogs. When Jiang Liang's grandmother went to defend them, she was mauled to death by wild dogs. Everyone thought she deserved it..."
Qing'er pulled Chen Ci and listened to the storyteller reading the book with others. The first half of "Her Little Dimples" about Jiang Liang was very heavy, and the listeners were silent.
When some people heard that Jiang Liang had killed everyone in Xuancheng with plague and fire, they said he was too cruel and cold-blooded.
Some people also speculated that Jiang Liang must have other unknown reasons for doing so, and it is impossible for a person to want to kill someone for no reason.
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