After Transmigration, I Picked Up A Husband and Daughter

Lady Zhao saw this and hurried to stop it, "You're already old enough not to have to join in this turmoil. Let Youfu go instead. This is a good opportunity for him to show his responsibility and change everyone's view of him, instead of them always holding onto his past wrongs."

"Youfu? I haven't seen him though, is he still sleeping in the room?"

Jiang Xunzhong replied, puzzled.

A tightness gripped Lady Zhao's heart, and without saying more, she pushed open the door to Fang Qin's house and quickly walked to the bedside.

She saw Fang Qin sitting alone on the bed, holding a child who wouldn't stop crying, her face full of anxiety.

Lady Zhao asked urgently, "Where is Youfu?"

Fang Qin looked blank, "It's so noisy outside, it even woke the baby. I thought he had gone out to see what was happening."

Lady Zhao turned pale instantly, turned around, and rushed out of the room to ask Jiang Xunzhong, "Did you see Youfu when you got up?"

"No, why?"

Jiang Xunzhong was confused, his face showing incomprehension.

His gaze wandered around in the dim night, as if searching for an answer.

Lady Zhao stood aside, suddenly struck by a chill. A familiar shadow flashed through the depths of her memory—the shoes on the thief who was carried away were eerily similar to her own child's.

"Oh, my son!"

Lady Zhao let out a heart-wrenching cry, recklessly rushing forward, her figure blurring into a vague shadow in the night.

Her screaming was piercing and mournful, slicing through the quiet night like a sharp blade, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

"Listen to that noise, could it be that Jiang Family's third boy got badly done by that thief?"

Someone in the crowd interjected, their voice carrying a hint of worry and speculation.

Another voice chimed in, "It's possible, after all, they all are in the same courtyard, perhaps the thief entered Youfu's Family's door first."

Amidst the discussion, the expressions on people's faces varied—shocked, sympathetic, puzzled—but all unmistakably shaken by the sudden turn of events.

In the crowd, only Jiang Ziling and Su Yu remained silent, their lips tightly pursed and their eyes cold, standing starkly apart from the surrounding commotion.

Su Yu's lips slightly curled into a cold smirk, his laugh filled with mockery and disdain, as if to scoff, "Did the old devout woman finally realize that 'thief' was her son? Too bad, he's probably already dead."

Lady Zhao ran forward faster than she ever had before, her skirt billowing in the wind, her hair messily whipping about, her eyes fixed on the figure whose face was obscured by a sack.

The frenzy of her actions stunned the people around her, causing them to step aside.

"Aunt Zhao, what's happened? Was something done to Youfu?"

A concerned neighbor asked, but Lady Zhao did not respond, as she shouldered her way through the crowd, heading straight for that "thief".

Others, seeing this, tried to intervene, but they could not stop her nearly frenzied actions.

Lady Zhao harshly pulled the sack off the "thief's" head, her actions rough but resolute.

She grabbed a torch from nearby, and in the flickering light, she carefully scrutinized the bruised face.

Despite the injuries, the familiar contours were still recognizable.

"Oh, my son!"

Lady Zhao screamed in agony, the torch falling from her hand, sparks flying everywhere.

She dropped the torch, and like a kite with its string cut, she threw herself onto Jiang Youfu's body, tears gushing forth like a breached dam, soaking the ground.

The four who were carrying the "thief" saw that it was in fact Jiang Youfu, horrified to paleness, they hastily let go.

Jiang Youfu thus heavily fell to the ground, emitting a dull thudding sound that was chilling to the bone.

"Be careful..."

Lady Zhao sobbed uncontrollably, her voice trembling so much it was almost inaudible.

The onlookers whispered among themselves, their faces showing shock and confusion, "Oh my, how can the thief be Jiang Youfu?" "Is he dead or alive?"

Su Yu timely showed her shock, crying out in feigned panic, "How could my younger brother burst into my home wielding a sharp blade? Could it be... Mother-in-law, although you are biased against me and resentful about father-in-law giving me the rice fields and grain, you should not have incited my younger brother to commit murder!"

Her words wound around Lady Zhao's heart like venomous snakes, pushing her into deeper despair.

Engulfed in the pain of losing her son, Lady Zhao only then realized she had been slandered.

Her eyes blood-red, she angrily pointed at Su Yu, "You, you did this on purpose, you wretch, I will kill you..."

She lunged at Su Yu with all her strength but was held back by the villagers.

Unperturbed, Su Yu retorted, "What do you mean, mother-in-law? How could I have done this intentionally? A thief with a knife appeared in our house in the middle of the night, it was too dark to see his face clearly, and in the confusion, we had no choice but to put a sack over his head. Besides, it was you who ordered the house guards to act, wasn't it?"

Her words were calm and sharp, like an invisible sword piercing through Lady Zhao's heart.

Lady Zhao was left speechless by these remarks, trembling with anger, her hands powerless as she fiercely slapped her thighs, her cries echoing through the night as if to tear it apart.

Just then, Jiang Xunzhong hurried over and seeing the scene, his face turned as pale as paper, staggering almost falling to the ground.

Fortunately, someone quick-witted beside him promptly steadied him.

He looked up to the sky in sorrow, "It's truly a tragedy..."

The village chief hurried to Jiang Youfu's side, squatted down, and gently felt Jiang Youfu's neck with his rough fingers.

After a moment, he announced solemnly, "He's still alive; quick, send him to the town's Medical Hall!"

At these words, a relieved murmur spread through the crowd.

Upon hearing this, Lady Zhao grasped at it like a lifeline, scrambling forward, her trembling fingers tightly pressing against Jiang Youfu's carotid artery.

Another villager also checked Jiang Youfu's breath, confirming, "He indeed still breathes!"

This statement breezed away the gloom accumulated in Lady Zhao's heart like a spring wind, her tensed body gradually relaxed, tears falling once more, now with a salty hint of hope.

Despite the deep darkness, Jiang Youfu had entered the house of a fellow villager wielding a glistening sharp blade.

This action was indeed abrupt and reckless, but after all, as fellow villagers in a crisis, saving life was the paramount task.

Upon hearing the news, villagers rushed over, some sweating profusely as they helped carry, others generously offered their sturdy ox-carts, everyone working together under the moonlight to urgently transport the severely injured Jiang Youfu to the Medical Hall in town.

No longer concerned with her previous grievances with Su Yu, Lady Zhao, anxious about Jiang Youfu's life and death, followed closely behind the crowd.

As the noisy horde gradually dispersed, the empty village road regained its silence.

Jiang Ziling watched the fading figures, his tone indifferent yet firm, "Let's go back."

It was as if he had put all the disturbances behind him.

Hearing this, a sneer curled the corners of Su Yu's mouth, "This guy is really as tough as an ox, to go through all this and still not breathe his last."