He immediately unlocked the box and counted the coins. Not a single one was missing. He let out a sigh of relief, likely assuming the little brats had knocked it over while poking at the box.
"Take a look. Is what you were looking for in here?" Zhang San pointedly slid the box toward Cheng Nuo.
The villagers saw everything clearly; apart from a few dozen copper coins, there was nothing else. The sound of accusations against Cheng Nuo rose once more from the crowd.
The Meng mother and daughter could not have been more delighted; it was as if Cheng Nuo had already been nailed to the pillory of shame.
Zhang San, smugly convinced he had won, was just about to close the money box when he suddenly felt a numbness in his knee, as if he had been struck by something. A sharp, searing pain followed, and with a *thud*, he collapsed to his knees, dropping the box, which shattered into two pieces upon impact.
Copper coins scattered everywhere, and the bottom of the box split open to reveal a secret compartment, from which a bright red scrap of fabric peeked out.
"What is that?"
The villagers curiously crowded forward to look.
"Mama, why is your pair of panties in here?"
The child who spoke was Tie Niu, Goodwife Sun's youngest son.
Goodwife Sun was just about to scold her son for talking nonsense when she looked closely. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she stammered in denial, "What are you blathering about? You’re seeing things."
Tie Niu lived up to his name—a stubborn little ox. "Impossible! This is your pair, Mama. There’s a tree embroidered on the butt. You told me it’s because Papa is named Dashu. I couldn’t possibly misrecognize it—mmph!"
Sun Dashu clamped a hand over his son's mouth, his face turning beet red. It was unclear if he was flushed from shame or from the rage of finding his wife's undergarments in Zhang San’s house.
He glared fiercely at his wife and then at Zhang San. His wife had been a beauty in her youth, and even now, with two children, she still possessed a certain charm. Could it be that...?
Goodwife Sun waved her hands frantically. She had done nothing to betray her husband, and even if she had, it certainly wouldn't have been with a shiftless layabout like Zhang San.
"This... this isn't my stuff," Zhang San said, his voice stuttering under Sun Dashu’s increasingly dangerous gaze. "I... I mean, I didn't put this here..."
"The key is on you. Besides you, who else could have opened the box?"
"Zhang San! You’d better make this clear today, or I’ll scratch your eyes out!" Goodwife Sun was on the verge of a hysterical breakdown.
Before Zhang San could defend himself, the mischievous children unearthed more items, and even the other villagers joined in the search.
"Wife, explain this to me! Why is your bodice in Zhang San’s house?"
"You shameless piece of filth, Zhang San! I’m old enough to be your mother, and you dare steal my underwear? Aren't you afraid of your crotch rotting off?"
As Zhang San watched more and more articles of clothing appear from nowhere, his face turned from red to purple, eventually settling into a deathly gray.
The Meng mother and daughter were petrified. Meng Sijing, in particular, had recently used fine silk to make a pair of embroidered shoes. At that moment, they were fished out of Zhang San’s chamber pot.
The pink fabric was stained a deep, dark red, and a yellowish-brown liquid dripped from them, carrying a nauseating, fishy stench. Many in the village had seen Meng Sijing showing off those very shoes. The looks cast her way were filled with pity; as the only unmarried "victim" present, who knew what kind of gossip would follow her when she came up for marriage?
"So Cheng Siniang wasn't lying! Zhang San really did go to the Meng house to steal things!"
"He stole people's belongings and then tried to frame someone else! If we hadn't searched today, Cheng Siniang’s name would never have been cleared."
"Why waste breath on him? Beat him until he confesses!"
The angry crowd surged forward. No matter how much Zhang San tried to argue, it was useless. The men’s fists landed on him like sandbags, the pain so intense he couldn't utter a word, reduced to nothing but pitiful wails.
The women circled around Cheng Nuo, offering comfort to the woman who had been so wronged.
Cheng Nuo wiped away a non-existent tear from the corner of her eye. "From this day forth, Siniang’s name is clear."
If one looked closely, it was evident that most of the items found belonged to the gossips from the day of the "adultery trap," including two women who, unaware of the full truth, had publicly humiliated Cheng Siniang and driven her to the point where she felt forced to hang herself. But in the chaos, no one noticed these details.
The Meng mother and daughter were trembling with rage. Their emotions spiraled from shock and skepticism to fury and humiliation. They were now certain that when Zhang San had snuck into their home to target Cheng Siniang, he had swiped Meng Sijing’s shoes. And yet, they couldn't even vent their anger on Zhang San, lest he bite back with accusations...
The mere thought of what that man might have done with the embroidered shoes turned Meng Sijing’s stomach. She shoved through the crowd and ran to the jujube tree in the yard to vomit uncontrollably.
As she looked up, she saw a familiar figure in cyan outside the fence.
"Brother, when did you get back?"
The man was tall and slender with a scholarly air. He wore a plain cyan robe, the cuffs of which were worn white from repeated washing. His face was refined and his features clear, failing to hide the ink-stained aura of a scholar. However, his brows were tightly knit, as if he were deeply displeased by the absurd scene unfolding at the Zhang house.
"What is all the commotion about in there?"
He had returned after receiving a letter from his mother. Finding no one home and even the villagers absent, he had followed the noise to the Zhang house to see what was happening. From a distance, he had vaguely heard words like "Cheng Siniang" and "adultery."
Could it be true, just as the letter had said, that Cheng Siniang had been fooling around?
Meng Sijing wiped the corner of her mouth, finding her pillar of strength. She stood up straighter. "Brother, you’ve finally returned! While you were gone, Mother was almost driven to death by Cheng Siniang."
She chattered on and on, and seeing Meng Nanzhou’s expression darken, she couldn't suppress the smirk tugging at her lips.
*Ugly Cheng, you’re done for.*
Inside the house, Cheng Nuo was busy "tearfully" playing the victim when she suddenly heard a man’s angry roar from outside:
"Cheng Siniang, get out here right now!"
Cheng Nuo paused. That voice... the ingrate had returned.
"The Scholar has returned to the village!"
The villagers had not yet seen Meng Nanzhou since he passed the imperial exam. Recognizing his voice, they surged out in droves, scrambling to curry favor with the newly minted scholar. Cheng Nuo, standing closest to the door, was almost pushed out into the yard by the crowd.
Across the fence, Cheng Nuo saw Meng Nanzhou for the first time—the "phoenix man" who had so thoroughly bewitched the original owner of this body.
The man stood before the gate, refusing to step even one foot into the yard. His hands were behind his back, his chin tilted slightly, his posture arrogant.
Her ungrateful husband certainly had a decent appearance—refined and scholarly, with an air of haughtiness between his brows. It was no wonder the original owner had been so lovestruck.
But he wasn't particularly handsome, at least not to Cheng Nuo, who had seen plenty of celebrities and idols; he was, at best, the level of a short-drama actor. It was just that his scholarly air made him stand out like a crane in a flock of chickens compared to the crude villagers of Yunxi Village.
As Cheng Nuo studied Meng Nanzhou, he was studying her in return.
The woman standing a few paces away with her arms crossed was defined most prominently by the scar on her left cheek. Though years had passed and the wound had long since scabbed over, it remained hideously ugly. A dark brown scar stretched from the center of her brow down to her left cheek, winding across her pale skin like a twisted centipede. Every time Meng Nanzhou looked at it, he felt nothing but disgust.
For a woman like that to have been lucky enough to marry him was a blessing earned over several lifetimes, yet she dared to commit adultery behind his back, treat his mother with disrespect, and make their entire family the laughingstock of the village.
Consumed by anger and humiliation, Meng Nanzhou’s eyes were as cold as ice blades.
"You disgraceful, shameless thing!"