Chapter 126: Expelled from the Compound!

“No matter how many times you ask, my answer won’t change! I will never apologize to you! If you want an apology from me, keep dreaming!”

Yang Jiuhong roared furiously at Li Jinhua, showing no trace of politeness or restraint.

“Heh—You want me to apologize? Then let me ask you—did you ever apologize to Wang Chunling? She’s your daughter-in-law, and that child was your own granddaughter! What did you do, Li Jinhua? You’re nothing but a heartless, vicious old hag!”

At this moment, Yang Jiuhong had just gone through the agony of several hours searching for her lost child—an emotional torment that felt like the sky had collapsed on her.

“You can’t tell someone to be kind unless you’ve felt their suffering yourself.”

Before, they had all pitied Wang Chunling. But that pity was shallow, detached—a charity offered by spectators uninvolved in the pain.

Only after personally experiencing the fear and despair of losing her own child did Yang Jiuhong truly understand what it meant to “empathize.”

Her child had only been missing for a few hours, and already so many people had come to help her search.

But what about Wang Chunling?

On New Year’s Eve, while snow fell and icy winds blew, as every family hung red lanterns and celebrated reunion and joy—Wang Chunling’s world collapsed. The only person she could turn to for help was Chu Yue.

She clung to a hope that was almost nonexistent—but it was all she had.

Just thinking about it made Yang Jiuhong’s heart ache unbearably. Tears streamed down her face, and the only thing that gave her comfort was clutching her child tightly in her arms.

“Li Jinhua, the moment you committed those vile acts and showed no remorse, your fate today was already sealed! Now I finally understand why Chu-meizi said: as long as a child goes missing in the compound, you will be the first person everyone suspects! Because you’ve done so many wicked things—you’re the most likely culprit!”

“Yes, my son Ping’an was found today. It had nothing to do with you. But if it ever happens again, I will still suspect you. And I’ll continue living in fear and dread as long as you’re around!”

“I don’t want to go on living like this—unable to sleep or eat in peace, always afraid my child might be in danger. Sister Song—”

Yang Jiuhong, still holding her child tightly, turned her tear-filled, bloodshot eyes to Song Hongmei. Her words were both a firm demand and a heartfelt plea.

She choked up as she continued,
“Sister Song, I agree with what Chu-meizi said! Li Jinhua must leave this compound! If she stays, none of us will ever feel safe again. We won’t be able to live in peace!”

The women standing nearby had never expected Yang Jiuhong would one day say something like this. After all, when Chu Yue spoke with Song Hongmei earlier that morning, none of them had dared utter a word—not even to nod in agreement.

But after witnessing what Yang Jiuhong had just gone through—and hearing her heartfelt words—they began to truly understand.

What if… the missing child today hadn’t been Ping’an, but their own child?

Would they have become the next Yang Jiuhong? The next Wang Chunling?

Living next to someone like a thief, always afraid they might strike again… Who could endure such a life?

Now the women fully understood the consequences—and the true meaning behind Chu Yue’s earlier words.

“Sister Song, I also agree with Chu-meizi—kick Li Jinhua out of the compound!”

“Sister Song, I have three kids. I don’t have eight eyes to watch them every second. I support Chu-meizi and Yang Jiuhong!”

“Sister Song, I agree too! I gave up my life in the city to come to this remote place—can’t I at least live in peace?”

“Sister Song, Chu-meizi is right! I agree with her too…”

Voices of support rose one after another, wave after wave, surging toward Song Hongmei.

And surging toward Li Jinhua as well.

The waves crashed, one after another, pounding heavily.

Li Jinhua had endured hours of slander. She had been filled with grievance and rage, thinking that once the truth came out, she would be able to reclaim her dignity in full.

But who would have expected Yang Jiuhong to turn into a madwoman, relentlessly attacking her.

At that point, Li Jinhua still believed she had a chance to turn things around. Yang Jiuhong was just a simple, honest woman—Li Jinhua had lived over fifty years. How could she possibly be afraid of someone like that?

But when Yang Jiuhong shouted for Song Hongmei, things quickly escalated beyond a mere neighborly quarrel—it was no longer simple.

And then, it all started to spiral in a direction Li Jinhua could never have imagined.

The people around her began to turn, one by one, into “Yang Jiuhongs,” all supporting Chu Yue’s suggestion to drive Li Jinhua out of the compound.

Under this growing momentum, Li Jinhua finally began to feel afraid.

“…Crazy. You’re all crazy… a bunch of lunatic women… all of you are insane…
My son is here, my home is here… and you actually want to drive me out…
You’re trying to drive me to death… you’re forcing me to die…
Fine! I might as well slam my head and end it all right now…”

When she realized she couldn’t win the argument, Li Jinhua resorted to her old tricks: crying, screaming, and threatening suicide.

After all, as long as she made enough of a scene, people would have to consider her age and reputation. If she really did end up dying, no one would be able to justify that—morally or legally.

But once again, Li Jinhua misjudged the situation.

The sisters-in-law were already worked up, emotionally charged. They had no intention of giving in to her sob stories.

Besides, they weren’t Zhou Zhijian, her son—they had no familial ties, only years of built-up resentment as neighbors.

There was no sympathy left in them for Li Jinhua’s crocodile tears.

Chu Yue said coldly:

“Li Jinhua, would you really be willing to bash your head and die?
If you died, how would you keep sending money to that youngest son of yours back in your hometown?”

“Y-You—What nonsense are you talking about?!”
At the mention of her “youngest son,” Li Jinhua’s face turned pale instantly.
Her entire body began to tremble with panic and anxiety.
“I don’t have a youngest son! What youngest son?!”

“You do.”

A clear and piercing voice rang out, unwavering and full of conviction.

The speaker was none other than Wang Chunling, who hadn’t been seen in a long while.

On New Year’s Eve, after finally recovering her child, her already fragile body collapsed completely.

She fell seriously ill, but still had to force herself to care for her child—because her child was her only reason to live.

Wang Chunling had suffered severe physical and psychological trauma, and the aftermath was that she shut herself off completely, becoming unresponsive to anything happening around her. She retreated into a mental “safe house.”

This state had gone on for quite some time—even when her husband, Zhou Zhijian, spoke to her, she gave no response.

She had long given up hope in her cowardly and useless husband.

During this period, the only person who could still enter Wang Chunling’s world, the only one she was willing to look at directly, was Chu Yue.

Chu Yue wasn’t just her savior—she had saved both her and her child twice.

Chu Yue was the only person Wang Chunling still trusted.