Chapter 56: That day, He Yushui hanged herself
Night swallowed the last remnant of the setting sun.
The darkness fell like a velvet curtain, enveloping the courtyard in tight embrace.
The ground, scorched all day, released waves of heat that stirred restlessness in the air.
Tonight, a meeting was to be held in the courtyard to discuss severing ties between He Yushui and Zhang Gangzhu.
Coupled with the stifling heat, there was no appetite for elaborate cooking.
Li Aiguo simply prepared a bowl of egg noodles.
He opened the stove’s coal hatch.
A sleek black steel pot sat atop the coal stove.
He boiled water.
Seven or eight eggs were whisked and poured into the pot.
He added fresh noodles.
Then, some bok choy.
Thus, a humble bowl of egg noodles was ready.
After eating, he washed the dishes.
Li Aiguo casually picked up a copy of *How the Steel Was Tempered* and began to read.
The book was in traditional vertical script, with illustrations interspersed, spanning over six hundred pages—heavy enough to feel like a brick in his hands.
“Steel is forged in blazing fire and tempered by intense cooling; thus, it becomes strong. Our generation, too, has been forged through struggle and hardship...”
Just as he reached an engrossing passage, a sudden commotion erupted outside.
“Something’s wrong! Quick, someone help!”
Trouble?
Li Aiguo stood, pulled open the door, and saw several neighbors standing at their doorsteps, all gazing puzzled toward the moon-shaped gate.
Zhang Gangzhu hurried in from outside, carrying a string of pig intestines.
Running, he shouted, “It’s bad, He Yushui has hanged herself!”
Boom!
The deep, sonorous voice thundered in everyone’s ears like a muffled clap of lightning.
Heavy footsteps pressed down on their hearts; suspicion and fear flickered across the residents’ faces.
“What are you standing around for? Hurry and save her!”
Li Aiguo shouted, striding toward Gangzhu’s house in the middle courtyard.
The door was tightly shut.
He Yushui’s classmate, Wang Ruxin, stood outside, tiptoeing to peer inside.
Upon seeing Li Aiguo, a flicker of delight crossed Wang’s eyes.
Feigning panic, he shouted hoarsely, “Brother Aiguo, it’s terrible! He Yushui has hanged herself. The door’s been locked from the inside—I can’t get in. Please save her!”
Li Aiguo: “......”
Too fake.
Such acting wouldn’t even pass muster in the Yonghong class; the teacher wouldn’t dare put you on stage.
You’d be stuck sitting on a little bench, watching other kids wield their red tassel spears with pride.
Wang Ruxin thought his performance was good enough and even tried to tug Li Aiguo’s arm: “Quick, quick, help her...”
“Cry!” Li Aiguo commanded.
“Huh?” Wang Ruxin looked bewildered.
“Can’t you cry?”
Li Aiguo now saw through it.
No hanging at all—it was a staged act.
He Yushui the lead actress, Wang Ruxin and Zhang Gangzhu the supporting cast.
Their goal was to seize the initiative during the “severing of ties” meeting, especially to face off against the deaf old lady Yi Zhonghai.
Li Aiguo had already figured it out when he ran out from the moon gate.
If He Yushui had truly hung herself, why would Zhang Gangzhu be lugging pig intestines home rather than trying to rescue her?
“I can, I can cry...”
Taking Li Aiguo’s hint, Wang nodded and put on a pitiful face, but despite turning red in the face, no tears came.
He lifted his head, pitifully: “Brother Aiguo, I just can’t cry...”
“Think about it. That night when your dad found out you and He Yushui skipped class and went to the park... what did he punish you with? The copper-buckled belt or the leather whip and handcuffs?”
“The copper-buckled belt... hanging from the beam...”
A flash of dread crossed Wang’s eyes; his face twisted in terror; his nose twitched twice and he blew a snot bubble.
With emotions welling up, he burst into tears.
“It’s terrible! He Yushui has hanged herself! Wuwuwu! Save her!”
His sobbing wasn’t loud but piercing, sending a shiver through the crowd.
“Well done, kid, you got it right.” Li Aiguo gave a thumbs-up.
“Louder! They’re here.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Li Aiguo spotted Yi Zhonghai and a few other residents rushing from behind.
He then hurriedly shoved open Gangzhu’s door.
Inside, a thick hemp rope hung from the beam.
He Yushui sat on the Eight Immortals table, swinging her feet back and forth, contentedly nibbling on a rice cake.
She glanced at the rice cake, then at Li Aiguo, pitifully: “Brother Aiguo, I waited a long time for you all, but no one came. Wang Ruxin brought this rice cake—it smelled so good I just couldn’t resist.”
“I thought you hadn’t eaten lunch and might be hungry,” Wang Ruxin blubbered, still crying, “I snuck this rice cake out from home for you.”
He Yushui nodded: “This is jujube flavor. I like the osmanthus one better.”
Wang Ruxin: “Don’t worry, there’s a big box at home. I’ll bring you some osmanthus flavor later.”
...
Li Aiguo: “......”
Is this a performance or a children’s game?
They really don’t act like they belong to the same family.
Their idea was clever, but their execution was all over the place.
“Hurry, Yi Zhonghai’s here!”
“Ah... I’m not ready yet!”
He Yushui panicked, throwing down the rice cake, standing on a chair, trying to grab the thick hemp rope—too short to reach it.
She looked pitifully at Li Aiguo: “Brother Aiguo, can you move the stool for me?”
Li Aiguo inwardly cursed under his breath. They hadn’t even rehearsed before performing.
And they still expected applause?
He quickly went over, placed the stool atop the table, and helped He Yushui stand on it.
“You’re so clumsy, there’s no need to actually put the noose on your neck. When Yi Zhonghai and the others burst in, we’ll pretend we just saved you.”
Li Aiguo feared this girl might accidentally turn their charade into reality.
That would be a disaster.
Seeing Wang Ruxin still standing there, Li urged: “Come on, start crying loudly.”
“All right! I’m really good at crying now...” Wang Ruxin nodded earnestly.
Li Aiguo frowned at He Yushui’s smooth, pale neck: “No marks at all. This won’t do.”
“Yushui, do you have red ink?”
“Yes, I’m the class monitor and help the teacher grade assignments.”
He Yushui fetched a bottle of red ink.
Li Aiguo dipped a thin string into it, looped it around her neck, tightened the string, then gently released it.
Snap.
A red mark appeared on her neck.
He smudged it slightly so that a red streak with a faint halo remained, looking exactly like a rope burn.
Wang Ruxin clapped: “So real! Brother Aiguo, you’re amazing.”
“Keep crying!”
“Ah... wuwuwu...”
Li Aiguo watched as He Yushui clutched the rope and Wang Ruxin held her legs, weeping bitterly.
Ha! This was just like playing games with kids.
...
“Old Yi, aren’t we being too harsh?”
“That girl, He Yushui, actually hanged herself.”
“Hey, Old Yi, slow down! I’m out of breath.”
The summer heat weighed heavily on the heavily pregnant Liu Haizhong, who was struggling to keep pace.
“Slow down?”
Yi Zhonghai lowered his voice, reproachful: “Everyone in the courtyard is watching. If we dawdle and something really happens to He Yushui, neither of us will escape responsibility.”
He cursed Liu Haizhong silently.
If it weren’t for you insisting on taking He Yushui as your goddaughter to prevent her from cutting ties with Zhang Gangzhu, that girl wouldn’t have been so frightened.
Seeing the neighbors all rushing to the He household, Liu Haizhong quickened his pace.
...