Chapter 41: Let It Come to Me

Li Zhilian’s face was twisted with hatred as she glared at Deng Yurong and Madam Wang, the matchmaker. She was convinced that Deng Yurong was her husband’s murderer, but in the absence of proof, she was powerless against him.

She even felt that all of this had happened because of her. If it weren’t for her concern that her mother-in-law would have no one left in this world to care for her, she would have chosen to follow her husband in death.

Now, her husband’s funeral rites had not yet passed, and this man had already brought a matchmaker to propose marriage. It was nothing less than a humiliation.

“Get out! Get out of my house! If you don’t leave, I’ll report you to the authorities!” Li Zhilian ground her teeth in fury, wishing she could tear into her enemy’s flesh, but in the end, she was only a powerless woman, unable to do anything.

Deng Yurong ignored Li Zhilian’s anger, grinning insolently. “Li Zhilian, I’m truly here to propose. Why are you being so heartless?”

That day, lust had gotten the better of him when he saw Li Zhilian washing clothes alone in the courtyard. He approached her, teasing her, making lewd remarks. Li Zhilian didn’t show any outward emotion, but unwilling to alarm her blind mother-in-law inside, she refrained from shouting, merely giving a stern warning.

But Deng Yurong, a shameless scoundrel, took her lack of outcry as a sign of encouragement and became even more brazen, even trying to lay hands on her.

Though Li Zhilian was gentle by nature, she was born to a family of fisherfolk, not some coddled young lady from a wealthy household. She was not so easily bullied. Grabbing a laundry stick, she gave Deng Yurong a sound beating as he approached, sending him fleeing with his head in his arms.

He’d barely made it to the gate when her husband, Fang Baikuan, returned home. As soon as Li Zhilian told him what happened, Fang Baikuan, a strong and upright man among the fishermen, was furious. He blocked Deng Yurong’s path and, with his bare hands, beat the scoundrel who had dared molest his wife nearly half to death.

Even now, Deng Yurong’s face was blotched with bruises, and he limped as he walked.

It was for this reason he hated Fang Baikuan so bitterly. Now that Fang Baikuan was dead, only by possessing that beautiful widow could Deng Yurong feel his vengeance was complete.

By now, several villagers had gathered to watch the commotion at Li Zhilian’s house.

One, unable to stomach Deng Yurong’s behavior, spoke up. “Deng Yurong, this is our Fangqiao Village, not your Botou Village. Fang Baikuan has just passed, and you come here to propose marriage? What kind of behavior is that?”

Deng Yurong glared with his beady eyes, thrusting his finger right at the speaker’s face, his attitude brazen. “I’ll propose marriage whenever I damn well please. What business is it of yours?”

The Fangqiao villager’s face flushed red, but he couldn’t find a retort.

Deng Yurong’s audacity wasn’t solely due to the rumor that he was the ‘reincarnation of the Mountain God.’ He had come today not just with Madam Wang, but also with two burly guards from the Qian family, bearing betrothal gifts.

The Qian family was the wealthiest household in town, their patriarch, Old Master Qian, had clawed his way up from being a fishmonger. The two guards were not just hired muscle, but men with criminal backgrounds, more than capable of intimidating ordinary villagers.

Old Master Qian had built his monopoly of the fish market not through kindness, but through ruthless means. Lending Deng Yurong the two guards was clearly a show of support.

Seeing that the crowd from Fangqiao Village had fallen silent, Deng Yurong grew even more pleased with himself, his manner increasingly arrogant. Once a despised rogue from Botou Village, scorned and detested for his petty thievery, he had lived like a mangy cur. But now things were different; at last he could hold his head high.

Looking at Li Zhilian’s face, flushed with humiliation and fury, Deng Yurong felt a burning itch in his heart. Were it not for the people in the house, he would have laid hands on her right there.

“She’s prettier than those brothel girls in town. If I marry her, I’ll have someone to serve me every day, no need to waste money on those filthy women,” Deng Yurong gloated inwardly. His previous wife had thrown herself into the sea after being abused by him; since then, he’d spent his meager earnings on prostitutes in town. But even the brothel girls, fond of handsome men, looked down on his ugly, sleazy, penniless self, often ridiculing and scorning him.

Madam Wang, seeing the stalemate, tried to persuade Li Zhilian with feigned kindness. “Madam Li, a woman’s youth is fleeting. If you don’t find a good match while you’re still young, in a few years when your looks fade, it’ll be too late. Deng Yurong may be hasty, but isn’t that proof of his sincerity? If you remarry him, he’ll surely cherish you, and you’ll have nothing but good days ahead.”

Li Zhilian’s teeth were clenched so tightly she thought they might shatter. She glanced at the villagers—though their faces showed indignation, after the earlier outburst, none dared speak now.

She answered firmly, “I will not remarry, and even if I did, it would never be to someone like Deng Yurong. If you don’t leave, don’t blame me for being rude.”

Deng Yurong protested, “Madam Li, that’s not fair. How am I a scoundrel? Maybe I was poor and looked down on before, but now I’m not the same man.”

As he spoke, his eyes roamed licentiously over Li Zhilian’s figure, his gaze lecherous and threatening. “Besides, let me warn you—since I’ve chosen you, any man who tries to woo you is making an enemy of me. He’d better beware Heaven’s punishment; he might end up dragged off by wild beasts in his sleep, just like that dead Fang Baikuan.”

“Who’s making such a racket out there, keeping an old woman from her sleep?” came an elderly woman’s voice from the inner room. It was Li Zhilian’s blind mother-in-law.

Not only was she blind, but her mind was muddled these days—she often forgot things. If not for her devoted son and daughter-in-law, a blind, senile old woman like her would not have survived long in such harsh times. Since her son’s death by wild beasts, she had grown even more confused, and sometimes no longer remembered he was gone.

“Well, look at that—you’re still alive, old crone, even after your son’s dead,” Deng Yurong jeered gleefully.

A blind old woman emerged, leaning on her cane, her face flushed with anger. “Who’s spouting such nonsense? Just wait till my son Baikuan gets home—he won’t let you off!”

Though blind and muddled, the old woman had keen hearing, and made her way directly to Deng Yurong’s side. But Deng Yurong, a thorough scoundrel, shoved her hard when she got close. If not for Li Zhilian’s quick reflexes in steadying her, the old woman would have fallen badly.

Li Zhilian cried out in anger, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Deng Yurong shrugged indifferently. “That blind old crone walked into me herself. Her son offended me, so why should I show her any courtesy?”

The watching villagers were outraged. At last, someone spoke up again. “Deng Yurong, this is too much. She’s just a blind old woman—what if your push had killed her?”

Deng Yurong sneered coldly, “Her son’s already dead. Wouldn’t it be better if this blind old crone went with him, instead of being a burden on others? If a single fall could finish her off, it’d save me the trouble—then nothing could stand in the way of my marriage to Madam Li.”

“You’ve gone too far.”

“Have a little decency.”

“Bullying a widow and orphan, how shameful.”

As anger flared among the villagers, Deng Yurong grew uneasy. If the crowd turned on him, and someone died, no one would be held responsible. But looking at the two burly Qian family guards, his courage returned.

Things were not what they once were. Deng Yurong was no longer a despised scoundrel; he was someone to be feared—a “Mountain God.”

Deng Yurong puffed out his scrawny chest like an enraged baboon, shouting, “What are you all yapping about? Shut your mouths. What, you want to fight me? Go ahead, try it. You there—the one yelling the loudest—come on, hit me if you dare. Want to end up like that dead Fang Baikuan? I’m telling you, I have the Mountain God’s protection now. If you cross me, don’t blame me if you meet the same fate as Fang Baikuan!”

“Mountain God? Let him come for me, if he dares.”

A pair of strong hands reached out from behind, seizing Deng Yurong by the collar and lifting him like a helpless chick.

It was Fang Yue, who had just arrived home.