The villagers in the courtyard were gossiping and clamoring:
"Cheng Siniang committed adultery first, then assaulted her mother-in-law. She is unfaithful and unfilial—truly a disgrace to all women!"
"Does she even have any shame left? Just look at that half-human, half-ghost face of hers. If I were Scholar Meng, I’d be scared to death if I woke up in the middle of the night to that next to me."
"A slut like her who plays around behind her husband’s back should be divorced and driven out of the village..."
Countless insults and accusations rained down on Cheng Nuo. From beginning to end, she neither cried nor made a scene; she simply sat quietly on the stool by the door, casting a sidelong glance at the crowd.
The neighbors, who had expected to see Cheng Siniang sobbing and begging for mercy on her knees, were stunned. It wasn’t like what they had imagined. Although her face remained unchanged, she seemed like a completely different person after just a single day.
Mother Meng, supported by her daughter, walked out of the kitchen looking frail, as if she were one foot in the grave: "Siniang, you couldn't stand the loneliness and took a lover. I don't blame you. If you truly have feelings for Zhang San, I will ask for a letter of divorce for you once Dalang returns. From then on, you can go your separate ways and marry whom you please. That would settle it. Why did you have to lay hands on me?"
Meng Sijing’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes glinting with malice: "Mother, why waste your breath on her? It’s an ironclad fact that Ugly Cheng cheated on her husband. It’s already the height of our family’s mercy that we didn’t drag her to the pond to drown her. When my brother returns, I will make sure to tell him exactly what has happened these past two days."
Cheng Nuo rose to her feet with elegant composure: "Are you finished?"
No matter what the others said, she remained as calm as a placid lake, as if all their jeers and curses were directed at someone else. The Meng mother and daughter felt a sense of frustration, as if they were throwing punches into a pile of cotton.
Ignoring everyone else, Cheng Nuo walked straight toward a specific person.
A woman standing at the front of the crowd, wearing a worn gray padded jacket with shiny, frayed fabric, was the one who had been shouting the loudest. Cheng Nuo remembered her; she was always fawning over Mother Meng, hoping that if Meng Nanzhou thought well of her, he might help tutor her son. The remark about being "unfaithful and unfilial" had come from her.
Cheng Nuo stepped forward: "Goodwife Sun, you have seen with your own eyes how I have treated my mother-in-law and sister-in-law all these years. You shouldn't frame me just because you are close to my mother-in-law. Why must a woman make things difficult for another woman?"
Goodwife Sun: "..."
"You cheated—are you trying to say I instigated it? We saw it with our own eyes that day. You and Zhang San were hiding in the room, acting inappropriately. Zhang San even had the bodice you gave him. Can you deny that?"
Cheng Nuo replied: "Goodwife Sun is right. Zhang San was indeed in my room, and the undergarment was indeed mine."
"So, you admit you’re an adulteress!" Meng Sijing was overjoyed, dying to clap her hands in triumph. She turned away and covered her eyes, her voice trembling, "You all heard her! When my eldest brother returns home, I ask that you all bear witness to this."
Cheng Nuo’s smile did not reach her eyes: "Little Aunt, I haven't finished speaking yet. Are you in such a hurry to convict me because you’re trying to cover up some unspeakable truth?"
"What nonsense are you spouting? Then explain why your bodice was in another man's hands!" Meng Sijing glared at her. She wanted to hear what kind of trick this woman could possibly pull now.
Cheng Nuo held out her fair hand and pointed into the distance: "My undergarment was stolen by Zhang San! That day, he took advantage of the fact that no one was home and I was asleep to sneak in and commit theft. That is how Goodwife Sun and my mother-in-law 'caught' us."
Meng Sijing laughed aloud. She had thought Ugly Cheng might come up with a brilliant scheme, but it was nothing more than this—as foolish as ever. How could she ever be worthy of her refined and noble brother?
Goodwife Sun was equally unconvinced: "You say it wasn't, so it wasn't? Zhang San said it was you who seduced him. This isn't the first time you two have carried on like this."
Sure enough, Zhang San, who was perched on the dirt wall watching the spectacle, shouted crudely: "Cheng Siniang, don't try to deny it now that you've pulled up your pants! You didn't say that when I was with you. You have a red mole the size of a grain of rice an inch above your navel—dare you take off your clothes and let everyone see?"
The men in the neighborhood roared with laughter. The unmarried girls and young brides blushed in shame, and the elders covered the ears of the children who didn't understand such things.
Mother Meng and her daughter exchanged glances, both seeing the same triumphant satisfaction in each other's eyes.
This scene did not escape Cheng Nuo’s notice. The original owner did indeed have a red mole, a detail only someone close or someone living with her would know. It could only have been leaked by the Meng mother and daughter.
They had clearly made up their minds to smear the original owner and drive her to her death.
Cheng Nuo crossed her arms and stood, composed. She looked at Zhang San without a shred of fear: "If you can sneak into a house to steal things, what is so difficult about peeking at someone bathing? Fellow villagers, it is actually very simple to prove that Zhang San is a thief. I know I am not a beauty, and there are plenty of women in the village far more attractive than I am. Zhang San could not possibly have stolen only once. If we search his house, the truth will come to light."
The villagers of Yunxi Village looked at one another, finding some logic in Cheng Nuo's words.
After all, looking at Cheng Nuo’s face, if she wanted to commit adultery, she would at least have had to be capable of it. They had come for the spectacle, but not everyone believed the words of Zhang San, a notorious rogue and loafer.
The Meng mother and daughter didn’t know that Cheng Nuo had already seen through their schemes; they assumed she was desperate to prove her innocence and was genuinely treating Zhang San as a common thief.
As a widower, how could Zhang San have a woman's clothing? Cheng Siniang’s bodice had been stolen by Mother Meng and planted on Zhang San.
"Since Siniang insists, I cannot stop her. But this is so shameful—I have no face left to show anyone!"
Mother Meng appeared pained, but she was inwardly ecstatic. Once nothing was found at Zhang San's house, even if Cheng Siniang had a hundred mouths to argue, no one would believe her.
She gave a subtle signal to Zhang San, who caught her meaning.
"Search then! Cheng Siniang, I’ll make you admit defeat today."
The massive crowd moved toward the east end of the village. The spectators were even more excited than before; those working in the fields dropped their hoes, those looking after children at home picked up their toddlers, and even an old woman leaning on a cane couldn't resist joining the fray.
Zhang San’s house was famously run-down. The fence was crumbling, acting as nothing more than a decoration. In the yard, there was a winter jujube tree that looked just as malnourished and neglected.
Zhang San’s parents had passed away long ago, and his two older sisters were already married. His wife had died of illness three years ago, leaving him to live alone.
Because there was no woman to clean, the house was even more cluttered than the yard, permeated by an indescribable sour odor. When Cheng Nuo had come last night, she had almost vomited.
"Search away. I want to see what you think you'll find."
There was nothing valuable in the house—even a thief would shake his head—so he wasn't worried about anyone pocketing anything. Zhang San leaned against the kang, smug and fearless, which only made the villagers believe his story more.
"You can see everything in this room at a glance. Where could anything be hidden?" Meng Sijing shot a glance at Cheng Nuo, her expression as if to say, "You're finished."
Cheng Nuo lowered her eyes, saying nothing, idly playing with a winter jujube in her hand.
Just then, a youthful, innocent voice rang out: "What is this?"
The adults were too embarrassed to rummage through someone else's house, but the children were curious. Several mischievous ones were already darting around, and one of them was holding a wooden box he had pulled from under the bed.
Oddly enough, the box was locked.
Zhang San’s family was so poor, what could he possibly have that needed a lock?
Could it really be, as Cheng Siniang said, that there was something shameful inside...?
The eyes of the crowd fell on Zhang San. He rose slowly, took the box, and shook it. It rattled with a clink-clank sound: "My meager belongings—do you villagers want to search those too?"
The villagers’ faces burned. No one was willing to speak; hearing the sound, there couldn’t be more than a few copper coins inside. If Zhang San was willing to open it, they were embarrassed to look.
"My heart is clean, so I fear nothing. I’ll open it for you all to see." As he spoke, he pulled a key from his waist and moved to insert it into the keyhole. Suddenly, he froze. He was stingy and paranoid; every time he locked it, he would stuff a strand of hair into the hole. But now, the hair was gone.
Was there a thief?