Chapter 439: Day 4 into the Farming Story

Chapter 439: Day Four of Transmigrating into a Farming Novel

Several women standing in the front row exchanged glances, and someone muttered under her breath, "Liu Ge'er's not wrong about that. Most of the work in the Li household, inside and out, is done by him."

"That's right—up before the chickens, to bed later than the dogs. The second son's wife has it easy, hiding in the house all day..."

"And they skimp on his food something awful. Sometimes I see Liu Ge'er washing clothes by the river, his face as pale as paper..."

These whispers were deliberately kept low, but they still drifted in fragments into the yard and into Old Madam Wang's ears.

Old Madam Wang trembled with rage, her chest heaving harder, and she pointed a finger at Jiang Chiliu: "You—you've lost your mind! Daring to talk back to your elders! Badmouthing me! You cursed my son to death! Ever since you married into this family, he never had a moment of good luck! His health declined day by day! Now that he's gone, you still have the nerve to mooch off the Li family? No way! I'm telling you, no way!"

"Mother!" Jiang Chiliu raised his eyes—eyes that looked extra watery from weakness and the cold—and looked at Old Madam Wang. His voice suddenly grew softer, carrying a slight, barely-there tremble, like he was barely holding back a ton of grief: "You say my husband was cursed to death by me, but when I first married in, he was already gravely ill. It was you and Dad who said marrying me in to 'bring luck' might give a glimmer of hope."

"After I married in, I brewed every bowl of medicine my husband drank with my own hands. When he was in pain, I stayed up night after night, not daring to close my eyes. When he left... he held my hand..." His voice caught in his throat at this point, and his eyes went red fast. He lowered his head, his thin shoulders trembling slightly, unable to continue.

The words were so heartfelt, and with him looking so ragged and weak while fighting back tears, it was incredibly moving.

A lot of the women watching from outside the yard were already looking sympathetic, and their looks at Old Madam Wang carried disapproval.

An Yi blinked. Good acting.

Old Madam Wang's face went purple with rage in an instant, her lips trembling like someone had choked her in public, like she had a lump stuck in her chest.

Back then, she'd been desperate to do the "luck-bringing" marriage for her critically ill eldest son and hadn't been too choosy. The Jiang family's bride price wasn't high, Jiang Chiliu was decent-looking, and his birth chart supposedly matched—so she'd hurriedly married him in.

Quite a few of the village elders knew about this.

Li Fu, squatting there, stopped puffing on his pipe. He knocked the pipe hard against his shoe sole, looked up with a grim face, glanced at Jiang Chiliu, then looked at Old Madam Wang. He still said nothing, but you could clearly see the displeasure in his eyes.

Old Madam Wang got all flustered and mad under his stare, and with people pointing and whispering, her face felt like it was on fire. No way was she letting the blame for this bitch's suicide attempt today land on her!

She had to pin it on Jiang Chiliu himself!

"Don't you dare play the victim here!" Old Madam Wang shrieked. "Yes! We paid good money to marry you in for luck! But we never thought we'd be bringing in a jinx! The luck-bringing didn't work at all! My son only got sicker because of you! And besides, while my son was sick, you were always running outside—who knows if you were sneaking out to hook up with some random guy? Maybe you found someone else and your heart wasn't with my son anymore, and that's why the luck didn't take! You literally angered my son to death!"

That was a vicious accusation.

Jiang Chiliu's head shot up, his face even paler, his eyes full of shock and fury: "Mother! How can you slander me like this! Every time I went out, wasn't it because you told me to? Whether it was gathering firewood on the back hill, washing clothes by the river, or fetching medicine in town—didn't I always rush out and rush back? When did I ever..."

"Of course you'd deny it!" Old Madam Wang cut him off, her eyes darting everywhere, like she was desperately looking for some kind of proof.

Her gaze swept over the crowd outside the yard, passing over familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. Suddenly, her eyes fixed on a certain direction and stopped.

An Yi stood with his arms loosely crossed over his chest, head tilted slightly, watching the standoff in the Li family yard with leisurely interest.

Seeing Old Madam Wang staring fixedly at him, An Yi raised an eyebrow slightly, a clear question forming in his mind: What?

Old Madam Wang's eyes lit up, as if she'd grabbed a lifeline. She thrust her finger toward An Yi, her voice even shriller and cracking with excitement: "You! You little punk from the An family! Tell me! Have you already hooked up with this jinx? I've long noticed you skulking around our house suspiciously! Did you put him up to killing my son? So the two of you adulterous lovers could be together?"

That finger-point was like splashing cold water into a pot of boiling oil.

"Whoa—"

Everyone's gaze, as if on cue, followed Old Madam Wang's finger and focused on An Yi.

Including Jiang Chiliu in the middle of the yard—he too turned his head in astonishment and looked at An Yi.

His eyes were full of shock, bewilderment, and a trace of barely perceptible curiosity—who was this person Old Madam Wang was calling her "lover"?

No memory of him?

Wasn't he some hoodlum from the original owner's memories?

An Yi: "..."

How did this land on him too? Truly, standing on the sidelines and still getting hit by flying trouble.

He lowered his arms from his chest and straightened up.

His worn clothes fell naturally with the movement, outlining a tall, upright figure that wasn't bulky.

Under the gaze of everyone—including the protagonist who had just been performing the grieving widower and was now looking at him with complicated eyes—he raised a hand and pointed at the tip of his own nose. His face wore an expression that mixed surprise, helplessness, and a hint of absurd amusement, and his tone was filled with genuine confusion:

"Me?"

He even tilted his head slightly, as if confirming whether Old Madam Wang was really pointing at him.

Then he spread both hands, palms up, in a gesture that was slightly innocent and open, before speaking slowly in a clear voice: "How could that be?"

He paused, and the confusion on his face melted into a helpless smile that was almost overflowing: "I'm just a passerby, here to watch the excitement..." He dragged out his words, and under the crowd's breathless attention, he lightly uttered the final few words:

"...a hooligan."

The crowd went silent for a moment.

Then—"Pfft—" someone was the first to fail at holding it in, letting out a short laugh before immediately stifling it, shoulders shaking violently.

Following that, suppressed snickers came from all corners of the crowd, and many people's expressions turned strange. Who calls themselves a hooligan?

Jiang Chiliu was stunned for a moment too.

This person... is so weird!