Chapter 2711: The Hemp Rope Always Snaps at Its Thinnest Point

At the slanted curb opposite the market, two youths squatted under an old locust tree, greedily devouring the meat buns they had just bought.

One youth stuffed the last half of the bun into his mouth, picked up the military-issue canteen lying on the ground beside him, its paint already peeling, and prepared to drink. He twisted the cap, but it wouldn't budge; he added more force, yet still couldn't open it.

"Damn it!" the youth gritted his teeth, wrestling with the canteen lid: "Old Wu, was it you who tightened this lid? How did you make it so tight?"

Old Wu didn't answer him, his chewing motion frozen, his eyes locked unblinkingly on the disabled woman.

The youth gripped the canteen lid with one hand, grimacing as he strained to twist it. But the harder he pulled, the more his palms sweated, making it impossible to hold the lid; furious, he opened his mouth and cursed.

"Old Wu, you fucking—"

The youth's tirade cut off abruptly; at that moment he also saw the disabled woman.

Old Wu sprang to his feet: "Dahuan, that woman must be the victim we're looking for."

Dahuan slung the canteen over his shoulder and stepped forward, but Old Wu grabbed him: "Don't rush—let's look first."

At that moment, the woman had already moved to the market entrance. A vegetable-selling auntie saw her, scooped up the broken cabbage stalks and a few potatoes she had picked out, and put them in a plastic bag, then walked over to the woman.

"Yujuan, these are the cabbage stalks I broke off and the few potatoes I picked out—don't disdain them."

Yujuan lifted her head, revealing a radiant smile; her teeth were neat and white, her smile beautiful. One could tell that in her youth she must have been very lovely.

"Aunt Wang, the vegetables you give me are always fresh—how could I disdain them?"

The woman set the bag of vegetables on the wooden board; what she said was true: although they were broken cabbage stalks, they were all fresh, with not a trace of rot. And those few potatoes, though they bore bruises, that's normal for potatoes and doesn't affect edibility.

"Thank you, Aunt Wang!" the woman said: "I'll go inside to have a look."

"Go on!" Aunt Wang said, watching the woman painstakingly inch forward, and couldn't help sighing: "What a fine young lady—heaven really is blind."

"Auntie, how much per jin for these cucumbers?" a voice called out from the vegetable stall.

"Sixteen fen!" Aunt Wang turned and went back behind her stall: "Young man, how much do you want?"

The one asking was Old Wu, squatting before the stall, picking out cucumbers while seemingly idly asking: "Auntie, who was that woman just now? She looks so pitiful."

Aunt Wang heard Old Wu's words, didn't think much, and sighed: "Poor thing—Yujuan used to be an accountant at the match factory; a few years ago she was hit by a car and ended up like this. Since the accident happened at night, the murderous hit-and-run driver still hasn't been caught to this day."

"A car accident?"

Old Wu glanced at the distant woman and her grotesquely twisted little legs. Judging by professional experience, that absolutely wasn't caused by a car crash.

"That's truly a pity." Old Wu shook his head, his face full of regret: "Does she have any family left?"

Aunt Wang said: "Her father died over ten years ago; she still has a brother, but when he was five, a high fever burned his brain, leaving his intellect stuck at that age.

Originally her mother was a worker at the match factory; even if her father was gone, the factory's wages and benefits were good, enough to support the two siblings. But misfortunes never come singly—as the saying goes, 'the hemp rope always snaps at its thinnest point.' Just the year after her father died, one day there was a heavy rain; her mother went to work and slipped on the road.

Speaking of this, Aunt Wang slapped the back of one hand with the other, making a loud clack, and said with heartfelt anguish: "Who among us hasn't taken a fall? I fell last month too—look, I still have a scar on my arm. But after Yujuan's mother took that fall, she was paralyzed and never stood again."

Aunt Wang sighed again: "Even so, the factory guaranteed her basic wage; life was hard but barely manageable. And this child Yujuan was promising—she got into vocational school, graduated, then joined the match factory, and married a fellow worker there.

Everyone thought Yujuan's bitter days were finally over, but who would have thought heaven itself wouldn't let her off? Her daughter, just over one year old, suddenly vanished; they searched for over a month and found nothing.

Then she was hit by a car and ended up like this; her husband also divorced her. Two years ago, the match factory's business also deteriorated, basic living expenses couldn't be paid, and the livelihood of her family of three fell into distress."

After Aunt Wang finished speaking, Old Wu again took out the cucumbers he had picked, pulled them out one by one from the plastic bag, until only two remained, then said somewhat embarrassedly:

"Look, we were chatting and just picked a whole bag of cucumbers—how could we possibly eat them all? Two will be enough."

Aunt Wang gave Old Wu a resentful look, took the bag and weighed it: "Twelve fen!"

Old Wu took out money from his pocket, paid, picked up the bag of cucumbers, and stood up: "Aunt Wang, from now on I'll buy my vegetables from you."

Hearing Old Wu's words, the resentment on Aunt Wang's face faded, replaced by a smile: "Young man, I tell you, buying vegetables from me is the right choice—I guarantee freshness and low price."

"Thank you, Aunt Wang!" Old Wu lifted the plastic bag, called out to Dahuan: "Let's go!"

Dahuan quickened his pace to follow; the two entered the market. Not seeing the woman named Yujuan, they walked around, stepped to the opposite exit, and spotted Yujuan.

She was rummaging through a pile of discarded rotten vegetables, everything mixed in. She found a rotten eggplant, used the small knife in her hand to cut away the bad part, leaving a small section, which she put into her inner bag, then continued searching.

Watching the woman tossing through that huge heap of rotten vegetables, Dahuan felt a tightness in his chest, making him slightly breathless: "Old Wu, do you think Director Huang will really be able to turn this case into an ironclad case?"

Old Wu's gaze never left Yujuan; hearing Dahuan's words, after a while he muttered: "The other side is the Yin family—even if Director Huang risks his life to make this case ironclad, the final result might not be what you want."

Dahuan took out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a hard drag: "Originally, whether this case could be solved or continued, I really didn't care.

But from the moment I saw this woman, I've wanted to get to the bottom of this case. Not for anything else—just for the clothes on my back and my own conscience."

Old Wu fell silent; he had said nothing all along, until Yujuan put away her small knife, pushed herself up with both hands on the ground, and began to slowly leave—then he said: "Let's go, let's check her place."