That afternoon, Qian Chunhua carried a basket on her back and brought along Qingfeng, planning to harvest the cabbages in the field.

Uncle Ding would be arriving in a few days to start building the house, so she needed to finish harvesting all the cabbages before construction began.

She hadn’t even reached the field when she spotted two small figures bending over, yanking violently at the plants.

They didn’t look like they were harvesting crops—they looked more like thieves.

Their movements were rough and careless, completely ignoring whether the cabbages would be damaged or whether they were trampling other plants in the field.

This infuriated Qian Chunhua. Although she didn’t rely on the harvest to survive, on the surface, this field was still her only source of income.

She told Qingfeng to hide behind a large rock at the entrance of the village and quickened her pace toward the field.

When she got closer, she could see clearly—it was Zhao Qingshui and Zhao Xiaojun, furiously pulling up cabbages from her field.

Caught red-handed.

Qian Chunhua shouted, “Stop right there!”

As she stepped forward and grabbed them both, she turned her head and called toward the rock, “Qingfeng, go get Grandpa Village Chief!”

Although Qingfeng had been hiding, he’d been watching the situation closely. As soon as he heard his mother’s command, he turned and bolted off like a shot. For such a little kid, he was fast—gone in the blink of an eye.

The mention of the village chief sent Zhao Qingshui and Zhao Xiaojun into a panic.

Zhao Qingshui struggled to escape.

Zhao Xiaojun clutched at Qian Chunhua’s sleeve, tears streaming down her face. “Second Aunt, please, let us go. I won’t dare do it again.”

Qian Chunhua’s almond eyes narrowed. “Shut up. Don’t call me Second Aunt—we’ve cut ties.”

These two kids were never up to any good. They used to kick, pinch, and bully Qingsong all the time. Qian Chunhua had no intention of letting them off easy.

Seeing that pleading wasn’t working, Zhao Xiaojun changed tactics.

She lowered her head and bit down hard on Qian Chunhua’s left arm.

Luckily, Qian Chunhua was wearing thick clothes. The bite didn’t break skin, but it did tear her padded coat.

Hearing the ripping sound of the fabric, Qian Chunhua actually felt bad—not for herself, but for the girl’s teeth. Hopefully they didn’t get damaged.

Taking advantage of the moment when his sister was biting Qian Chunhua, Zhao Qingshui yanked free and tried to escape—leaving even his basket behind.

But Qian Chunhua wasn’t about to let him run. In a split-second decision, she kicked Zhao Qingshui square in the back, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

She stepped on his back to pin him down. Now neither of them could escape.

Zhao Xiaojun kept her head lowered, eyes darting around, trying to come up with a way to flee. But even when the village chief arrived, she hadn’t figured anything out.

Following the chief were the gossipy crowd from beneath the old locust tree.

When Qingfeng had gone to call the chief, he’d also alarmed them. Seeing the chance for drama, they had rushed over, dragging their friends along and arriving even faster than the chief himself.

“Aiya, look who it is—it’s you two, Xiaojun and Qingshui,” exclaimed Zhang Qiurong, who was leading the pack.

Zhou Guifang came right behind her, clucking her tongue. “Tsk tsk, Qingshui, stealing cabbages from your second aunt’s field? Shameful…”

They were even stealing something as cheap as cabbage.

Zhou Guifang shook her head, inwardly sighing.

Qingfeng returned with the group, his little legs pumping as he ran up to Qian Chunhua.

She pulled him into a hug, ruffled his hair, and nodded at him with a proud smile, as if to say, “Well done.”

Qingfeng lifted his chin with pride and beamed.

Village Chief Wang furrowed his brows, looking at Zhao Qingshui and Zhao Xiaojun.

Qian Chunhua had already let go of Xiaojun and stepped off Qingshui.

The situation was obvious—anyone could see the destruction.

The field was a mess, and their baskets were already full of stolen cabbages.

“Village Chief, when I came to pick cabbages, I found these two stealing from my field,” Qian Chunhua stated plainly.

The chief nodded, showing he understood.

He was furious.

Even though the moral climate in Huanghualing wasn’t perfect, no one had ever stooped to stealing cabbages from someone else’s field before.

First of all, cabbages weren’t even worth much. Second, who didn’t have them? Every household grew them and was sick of eating them—who would bother stealing them?

“Let’s go. Take us to your guardians,” the chief said, hands clasped behind his back as he headed toward the village.

Zhao Qingshui and Zhao Xiaojun exchanged glances, then trudged after the group with their heads down.

Qian Chunhua held Qingfeng’s hand and followed behind them.

The rest of the villagers—buzzing with excitement—trailed along as if heading to a festival, dragging more people in along the way.

The Zhao family’s courtyard gate was wide open.

Village Chief Wang was the first to enter. Zhao Qingshui and Zhao Xiaojun followed reluctantly, surrounded by the growing crowd.

Zhao Yongqiang and Li Cuihong weren’t home—they had taken a cart to the county with Zhao Qingyun for medical treatment.

At home, only Zhao Daqing and Zhao’s mother remained.

Hearing the commotion, Zhao’s mother came out of the main house. Seeing the crowd, her heart sank.

The last time this many people showed up was when the second household severed ties. And now, just days later, there was another mob at her door?

Spotting her second daughter-in-law among the crowd made her panic even more. “Old man, get out here—now!”

Zhao Daqing puffed on his pipe twice before reluctantly putting it down and walking out.

“Village Chief Wang? What brings you here?” Zhao Daqing asked, a bit apprehensive. He didn’t like dealing with this old man—nothing good ever happened when he showed up.

The chief shot him a displeased look. “Why am I here? Ask your wonderful grandchildren.”

Zhao Daqing’s heart sank.

Zhao Qingshui and Zhao Xiaojun kept their heads low, saying nothing.

The helpful (gossipy) villagers quickly recounted the entire incident for Zhao Daqing, not missing a single detail.

Zhao Daqing’s face burned with shame.

A wave of anger surged up, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth.

“Get inside, you disgraceful things!” he shouted.

Zhao Daqing had always considered his family a respectable scholarly household—they’d even produced a xiucai (a county-level scholar).

He had high hopes of producing another one.

And now? Thieves.

Since his second son left, he felt like his old face had been completely stripped of dignity.

“You’re not even going to ask for the full story?” the village chief prodded.

Zhao Daqing shook his head.

No need.

One look at the two of them and he already knew they were guilty.

He knew his own family well enough.

Seeing no objections from Zhao Daqing, the village chief continued, “Then let’s discuss compensation.”