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Mother Lin looked downstairs in horror and shivered all over.
“They came… so fast. I didn’t expect it at all.”
Lin Ting was full of doubt.
In her previous life, the house search happened two days later—why did it come early this time?
Could it be because of Chen Lizhong?
She didn’t have time to think it through and instructed quickly:
“Mom, you go down and stall them for a bit. I’ll hide the things first!”
Bracing herself, Mother Lin went downstairs. Lin Ting rushed into her parents’ room, quickly gathered half of the clothes in the wardrobe into her spatial space, and rearranged the remaining clothes to make it look untouched.
The radio on the nightstand, two watches and two boxes of snow cream, three boxes of clam oil in the drawer—all went into the space!
She moved to the study next door, putting away her parents’ research notes and sensitive books, as well as the camera on the bookshelf.
When she came out, she saw her sister-in-law, Fu Wan’ning, standing tensely in the hallway.
“Wan’ning, go downstairs and help Mom stall them. I’ll go hide your things!”
Fu Wan’ning, lost and scared, finally clung to some direction and nodded.
“Be careful!”
The Lin family had a small hidden room in the house. Fu Wan’ning assumed Lin Ting was putting things there and hurried downstairs to buy more time.
Once in the brother and sister-in-law’s room, Lin Ting quickly stuffed everything Fu Wan’ning had pre-packed into her space. She also took the electric fan at the foot of the bed.
Two cans of milk powder for her nieces, their small pillows and blankets, her sister-in-law’s cosmetics and skincare items, the quilt on top of the wardrobe—all gone!
From the table, she took one of the two enamel mugs.
Before going downstairs, she even made a trip to the bathroom, taking two bars of soap, three towels, four toothbrushes, a roll of toilet paper—everything, into the space!
Downstairs was loud with commotion, but it sounded like they were still busy in the courtyard.
Not wasting time, Lin Ting dashed to the kitchen and stored everything they had stockpiled:
Before leaving the kitchen, she also grabbed:
After she was done, the kitchen looked cleaner than before, as if it hadn’t been touched.
Lin Ting didn’t dare move anything in the first-floor living room though.
There wasn’t much of value there anyway. Her father had long since hidden away their valuable paintings, replacing them with portraits of great leaders.
The most valuable item was probably the television set.
Everyone in the neighborhood knew they had one, so hiding it would only cause suspicion. She had no choice but to leave it.
Just then, a voice shouted from outside:
“Where did you hide the stuff?”
“Hand it over, now!”
Lin Ting realized they were looking for the Communist Manifesto she had burned.
No wonder they hadn’t entered the house right away—they were hoping to find some “evidence of capitalism.”
Mother Lin tried to remain calm.
“I don’t know what you’re looking for.”
“Hmph!”
“You’d better not make us find it ourselves, or you’ll suffer the consequences!”
Soon, seven or eight burly men with clubs stormed into the house. Lin Ting quickly backed into a corner—staying unnoticed was the smartest move.
These people could kill without consequence—they were the law.
Drawers were overturned, cabinets smashed open, the house resounded with crashing, thudding, and shouting. It was deafening.
Any locked cabinet was broken open with a single “crack.”
Their destructive power was terrifying.
Small items that could be taken were all looted.
Those that couldn’t? Smashed to bits.
A bespectacled man stormed out of the study, furious.
He spotted the three Lin women huddled in the corner, clutching each other tightly, not even daring to breathe.
“Where are the documents?”
Lin Ting looked up at the voice, momentarily stunned.
She recognized the man—Zhao Dongming, a college student once mentored by her father.
He supposedly had a relative on the Revolutionary Committee, but Lin Ting had no idea he was now part of it himself.
Clearly, he had come for her father’s research—not just to rob the house like a bandit, although there wasn’t much difference between the two.
They all acted like bandits with official titles.
“My dad’s stuff is either in the study or at his office,” Lin Ting replied.
She secretly gave Lin Chi a signal.
Zhao Dongming turned to Lin Chi:
“Where did Professor Lin keep his research?”
Despite her nervousness, Lin Chi remained composed.
“I’ve never interfered with his work.”
Her father studied rice; Lin Chi specialized in corn—two separate research areas.
It made sense she didn’t know the details.
At this time, Father Lin was still out pulling strings to save the family.
Even if Zhao wanted to confront him, he couldn’t.
The ransacking continued.
These people acted like they wouldn’t stop until they’d turned over the roof tiles.
Lin Ting couldn’t imagine—if this was just a house search, how horrifying was the confiscation raid in her past life?
Back then, she had already married and “cut ties” with her family on the surface.
She didn’t witness the raid firsthand.
By the time she learned what had happened, her family had been dragged to a public struggle session at Nancheng Plaza.
Her father and elder brother were beaten so badly, she barely recognized them from a distance.
Later, they were sent to work reform camps, forced to live in cowsheds and memorize propaganda daily.
One wrong word meant a slap to the face.
They even had to stand and be scolded every night.
The daily torment in those cowsheds broke her family physically and mentally—eventually driving her father to suicide.
Just then, her brother Lin Yan returned from the nursery with his two daughters.
Seeing the house in shambles, as if it had been looted by foreign soldiers, hatred flashed in his eyes.
Lin Ting subtly shook her head, signaling him not to act.
Lin Chi and Fu Wan’ning quickly held the children tightly in their arms, shielding them from the terrifying scene.
Just when the Lin family thought the search was almost over, Zhao Dongming suddenly strode up to Lin Ting.
“You—come with me to the room.”