Chapter 58: Pan Xiezi's Provocation, Zhou Sinian Strikes!

Day broke, and Liu Guoqiang, who was leading the group, instructed everyone to extinguish their torches. The pace quickened as they pressed onward.

Along the way, they encountered another group coming from a side path, whose attire suggested they, too, were headed to work on the reservoir.

“Oh my, Accountant Liu, so you’re leading the team this year? What’s the matter, has Captain Liu grown too feeble to climb out of bed?” With that, a burst of laughter erupted from the other side.

The speaker was a small, wiry old man with a tobacco pipe and deep wrinkles on his forehead, his voice sharp and mocking, exuding the attitude of someone who cared little for proper decorum. This was none other than Pan Box, the captain of Shangwan Village.

In truth, he was younger than Liu Dazhu—he had just turned forty-five this year, not yet fifty—but his appearance was exceptionally aged.

Liu Guoqiang smiled cheerfully at him. “Captain Pan, our captain is quite well. He simply likes to give the younger generation a chance to hone their skills, so he sent me out to gain some experience. I wonder, Captain Pan, who did you bring along this time?”

At those words, Pan Box’s face darkened instantly. He was shrewd and adept at maneuvering, more influential at the commune than Liu Dazhu. Yet, despite reaching middle age, he had no sons, just a string of daughters at home. He did have several nephews, but clinging to the tradition of passing one’s position to one's own son, and feeling he was not yet old, he suppressed the opportunities of the village’s younger men everywhere, rarely even bringing his own nephews along. Thus, people called him Old Pan the Stingy, saying he only took, never gave.

“Enough, boy—mind your own business and stop poking your nose into others!” he snapped, then waved over his village’s horse cart and, with a backward gesture, grabbed hold of Liujiawan’s cart.

“Kid, respect your elders and care for the young, understand? Let your grandpa pass first!”

Liu Guoqiang was furious, but Pan Box was infamous for being a rascal—he could stir up trouble even when he had no grounds—and the whole Shangwan Village followed his lead. If Liu Guoqiang forcibly dragged Pan Box aside, the two villages would surely end up brawling today. Yet letting him pass without protest would make Liujiawan seem spineless.

So, the situation grew tense. The two carts blocked the road, and no one could get through. Third Uncle Liu, exasperated, climbed onto the cart shaft and hurled curses at Pan Box. With his seniority, Pan Box didn’t dare retort, though he shamelessly grinned up at Third Uncle Liu, infuriating Liujiawan’s chief troublemaker nearly to the point of fainting, while Pan Box himself remained unfazed, not so much as a blush.

At the back of the Liujiawan crowd, Ming Dai stood on tiptoe, curious, straining to see what was causing all the commotion ahead. She could only hear the chaotic noise, unable to discern what was happening.

Zhou Sinian seemed unbothered at first, absently fiddling with his empty pockets. But as the hubbub grew, his expression became increasingly impatient. Seeing Ming Dai stretching her neck to look, yet unable to see anything, made him even more irritable.

He suddenly reached out, slid his hand under Ming Dai’s armpit, and hoisted her—basket and all—above his head, pushing his way forward through the crowd.

Startled, Ming Dai now found herself gazing down at a sea of odd, colorful heads. This was a public embarrassment of epic proportions! She hastily tried to negotiate, “Zhou Sinian, Brother Zhou! Please put me down, I don’t want to look anymore!”

Zhou Sinian ignored her, instead using her as a tool to clear a path, barreling ahead through the throng.

Ming Dai (the human tool): I have a few choice words I’d like to share with you!

Those knocked aside were initially annoyed, but upon turning to see the lunatic charging forward with Little Ming the educated youth held aloft, their anger quickly evaporated, and they swallowed their curses.

Thus, with Ming Dai serving as a human bowling ball, Zhou Sinian soon reached the carts at the front.

The people arguing didn’t notice the peculiar scene unfolding behind them, but the surrounding crowd quickly scattered. The Shangwan villagers, seeing a tall woman in a red headscarf carrying a small girl in a green one, were curious: Who was this woman? Why was she so tall?

When the “red headscarf” finally set down the “green headscarf,” they realized—this was no woman! This was Zhou Sinian, the local scourge! Memories of being beaten came flooding back, and everyone hastily retreated from the carts, avoiding the center.

Even the Shangwan horses sensed danger, trembling and backing away.

Ming Dai hadn’t yet processed what was happening when a flash of red streaked before her eyes, followed by several crisp “slap-slap-slap” sounds. There was even a rhythm to it.

Looking closely, she saw Zhou Sinian gripping an old man, his massive palm affectionately smacking Pan Box’s wrinkled face, which swiftly swelled up, red and shiny.

Ming Dai quickly stepped forward, pulling Zhou Sinian’s hand mid-slapping, and with her other hand deftly slipped a piece of pine nut candy into his mouth as he glared at her.

Zhou Sinian’s bloodshot eyes grew confused, then gradually cleared. Chewing the candy, he released his grip.

With a “thud,” Pan Box fell face-first to the ground.

Ming Dai massaged Zhou Sinian’s left hand’s acupoints, then pretended to pull a small cloth pouch from her pocket and handed it over. Zhou Sinian sniffed it, confirmed it was pine nut candy, took it, opened it one-handed, and popped another piece into his mouth.

His body relaxed, and, following Ming Dai’s lead, he slowly walked toward the roadside.

Once clear of the crowd, Ming Dai let out a sigh of relief and tucked away the golden needle hidden between her fingers.

Satisfied Zhou Sinian had regained his composure, she glanced at Pan Box, who was being helped up. Blood trickled from his face, but he dared not utter a word, and was guided back to his cart.

No one wanted to fight anymore. Liu Guoqiang quietly gave instructions, and Third Uncle Liu drove the cart ahead. Soon, the Liujiawan team moved forward again, with Ming Dai and Zhou Sinian still at the rear, and Sister Huang just ahead of them.

Even after they’d gone a long distance, Shangwan villagers didn’t follow, clearly wary of Zhou Sinian. Whatever happened to provoke Zhou Sinian so deeply, it was certainly no trivial matter.

Moreover, they seemed uneasy—normally, Pan Box would at least try to pin the blame on Liujiawan, even if he didn’t dare confront Zhou Sinian.

Not until they reached the reservoir did they see any sign of the Shangwan group.

Ming Dai shook her head, choosing not to dwell on it. She closely observed Zhou Sinian, noting how he curiously watched the crowds tamping earth by the reservoir, without any signs of agitation. She relaxed, and beckoned to Sister Huang lingering nearby.

Sister Huang, hesitant, circled Zhou Sinian at a wide berth before approaching Ming Dai.

“Oh, Little Ming, you scared me! How can you be so bold, girl? Aren’t you afraid the madman might slap you?”

Ming Dai’s heart raced: She’s calling me Little Ming now?

“Sister, I’m fine, aren’t I? I’ve been treating him for a while now, so I understand his condition and know what won’t trigger him.”

Sister Huang looked at Zhou Sinian’s broad back with lingering fear.

“Well, he won’t hit me, will he?”

Ming Dai shook her head. “As long as you don’t take his food, I guarantee he won’t hit you!”

Sister Huang quickly shook her head. “No, no, I wouldn’t dare!”

Ming Dai reassured her for a while longer, until Sister Huang gradually became comfortable with Zhou Sinian’s presence.

Once she relaxed, it was time to get to work.