Song Erya rushed over without a second thought and, together with Song Fang, lifted Mingzhu up from the ground.
Mingzhu was trembling all over, so angry she could barely speak.
The sisters carried her back into the house. Song Erya washed a towel and wiped the mud off Mingzhu, hearing Song Fang curse furiously, "That damned Shen Xiangguo!"
Shen Xiangguo was the name of Uncle Shen.
After wiping Mingzhu's face, Song Erya ran back outside to see what was going on. In the crowd filling the courtyard, she spotted Shen Xiangguo.
He was a middle-aged man with a thick beard, a protruding belly, and a fierce appearance—triangular eyes like a street thug's, with traces of having been beaten on his face.
There were many people in the courtyard, all talking at once in dialect, arguing noisily until it made her head ache.
After listening for a while, Song Erya finally understood: Uncle Shen had come looking for trouble because of what happened the night before, and during the argument he had pushed Mingzhu over, sending Shen Mingsong into a violent rage.
Shen Mingsong had been in the middle of killing a chicken, a knife still in his hand. Veins bulged beneath the skin of his neck, and his gaze looked as if he wanted to tear Shen Xiangguo apart.
Uncle Tao and the others clung tightly to the boy's struggling body, shouting, "Mingsong, calm down! It's the New Year—don't bring the police here!"
Someone nearby snatched the cleaver from his hand and flung it far away, but they still couldn't hold him. He broke free like a mad dog, lunged at Shen Xiangguo as he tried to run, and slammed his fist down hard.
Shen Xiangguo cried out in pain, clutching his stomach as he collapsed to the ground. His son, Shen Luhua, rushed into the yard, swore, and charged at Shen Mingsong, tangling with him and throwing the scene into even greater chaos.
This fight was brutal. Compared to the scuffle in the grove before, Shen Mingsong this time was completely unhinged. He pulled out the wrench tucked behind his back and struck Shen Xiangguo's knee, the pain instantly stripping him of all ability to resist.
Uncle Tao and the others had to restrain Shen Luhua while also trying to hold Shen Mingsong back. They barely managed to stop the wrench from coming down on Shen Xiangguo's head, seized it from him—only for him to turn and clamp his hands around Shen Xiangguo's throat.
The fury he had shown earlier was gone. His expressionless face was even more terrifying as he coldly tried to strangle Shen Xiangguo.
Song Erya's mind went completely blank. Acting on instinct, she ran over and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Brother, you... c-c-calm down..."
She could barely get the words out. She had never seen Shen Mingsong like this—so terrifying.
She was afraid that if he killed someone, he would be arrested and sent to prison.
In the end, it was Uncle Tao who slapped him hard across the face, finally making him release his grip. His eyes were bloodshot and frightening.
Shen Xiangguo was quickly helped up and escorted away, fleeing as if for his life. He probably wouldn't dare show his face in front of Shen Mingsong for a long time.
Uncle Tao stayed behind to talk things through for quite a while. Only after Shen Mingsong had truly calmed down did he leave to check on Shen Xiangguo's condition.
Shen Mingsong closed his eyes briefly, his breathing finally evening out, then looked down at Song Erya, who was still clutching his waist.
The little girl had been terrified. Her tear-filled eyes were full of fear, worried he might explode again. Her fingers were clenched tightly in his clothes.
Shen Mingsong patted her cheek, his tone harsh. "Let go."
Song Erya obediently released him.
He had a few injuries on his body but didn't go to a clinic. He returned to his room to get medicine, ignoring the person who followed him in.
His room was large but filled with boxes, all neatly arranged. Piles of books were stacked on the desk—school textbooks, books on economics and architecture, and many newspapers.
Behind the door hung a punching bag and boxing gloves.
Song Erya didn't look around. She was still shaken, didn't dare joke with him, and didn't leave either—just hovered quietly at his side.
Shen Mingsong didn't speak to her. With a cold expression, he treated the bleeding wound on his arm, wrapping bandage around it in smooth, practiced motions. In the end, he bit the bandage and tied a knot with one hand.
Only then did he glance at Song Erya. "Why are you still here?"
This time she replied obediently, "Oh."
She left his room and went to Mingzhu instead. Song Fang had already calmed her down. Mingzhu had changed out of the dirty clothes she'd fallen in and turned to ask, "Yao Yao, how is your brother?"
Song Erya thought for a moment. "Brother's in a bad mood."
She didn't dare describe it as terrible.
The aftermath came later that afternoon. Uncle Tao returned after mediating at the hospital and said that Shen Xiangguo had no intention of calling the police, but his leg was fractured and Shen Mingsong had to cover the medical expenses.
Shen Mingsong paid without hesitation. Song Erya, seeing firsthand how hard he worked to earn money, felt a pang of sympathy for him.
Even an old ox had time to rest and graze—he, on the other hand, never stopped working.
With the matter settled, the New Year's festive atmosphere returned. That evening, when Song Erya went to see Shen Mingsong again, he was slaughtering a chicken, scalding it twice with boiling water before plucking the feathers, a cigarette clenched between his lips.
Shen Mingsong looked up at her. The terrifying aura from earlier had completely dissipated.
Still shaken, Song Erya said, "Brother, you were really scary this morning."
He yanked off a large clump of feathers, speaking around the cigarette. "If I was so scary, why did you still come near me?"
Song Erya stepped closer and said, "You're not allowed to smoke."
Shen Mingsong replied curtly, "None of your business."
Uncle Mingsong never smoked, she thought.
"If you smoke, I'll have to breathe secondhand smoke. That's bad for me." Song Erya reached out, pulled the cigarette from his mouth, tossed it to the ground, and stamped it out. "And smoking turns your teeth yellow and makes your lungs black and rotten. Then I won't like you anymore."
Shen Mingsong flung the feathers from his hands, his face darkening instantly. "Then who do you like? Your real brother? Go cling to him, then."
Song Erya turned and walked away.
On the second day of the New Year, Song Fang's aunt returned to her natal home with her husband and son, and Song Erya met a new cousin.
The aunt was younger and more fashionable than expected, with big permed waves and bold makeup, even wearing purple eyeshadow.
Song Erya had met this aunt a few times as a child when visiting relatives with her mother—she thought she was supposed to call her grandaunt, but the memory was vague.
She smiled politely anyway. "Happy New Year, Aunt."
The aunt took hold of her and examined her carefully, praising her for being adorable, then handed her a very generous red envelope.
Song Erya instantly liked this aunt. Song Fang clearly admired her as well, listening with shining eyes as she talked about life and work in the big city, full of longing.
The aunt's son, like his father, was refined and scholarly, wearing glasses and exuding an academic air. He didn't get along with Song Guoliang, so he went off alone to look at the sea—and didn't return for a long time.
Near evening, Song Erya spotted him pacing back and forth at the same spot by the shore and jogged over. "Cousin, are you lost?"
His face flushed slightly, embarrassed. "Little cousin, did you come to find me?"
Song Erya touched her nose. Actually, she had been looking for Shen Mingsong.
She led him back toward their grandmother's house. Along the seaside, many vendors had set up stalls, taking advantage of the holiday when people were willing to spend and children had lucky money. Firecrackers, toys, snacks—everything was for sale, forming a small market.
Her cousin, worried about getting separated in the crowd, grabbed her wrist. The smell of barbecue drifted over, and he stopped. "Little cousin, do you want something to eat?"
Song Erya sniffed and was about to nod when she suddenly felt an intense, unmistakable gaze on her back. She turned around and saw Shen Mingsong standing at a barbecue stall, staring at the two of them expressionlessly.
Wow—his business had expanded again. He really was versatile.
Her cousin followed her gaze and said, "Little cousin, shall we have grilled squid?"
As he spoke, he pulled her over and ordered two large grilled squid from Shen Mingsong.
Her cousin asked, "Little cousin, can you handle spicy food?"
Song Erya shook her head. "Brother, I want mine not spicy, with extra sauce."
Her cousin thought she was addressing him and repeated the order to Shen Mingsong.
Shen Mingsong's eyes looked as if he wanted to grill him instead of the squid.
***
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