Chapter 1378: Zhang Lijuan (24)

Zhang Lì Juān (Twenty-Four)

The four of us went to a nearly deserted outdoor food stall and ordered a few bottles of beer and some meat dishes.

Xiǎo Shā and Xiǎo Yā Jiě were chatting happily, but I remained silent. Lán Lán was still engrossed in that book about ōu zhōu shǐ.

Being with these people always made me feel a strange sense of relaxation. Xiǎo Yā Jiě was over ten years older than me and often acted like a strict mother.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"Xiǎo Yā Jiě lit a cigarette and impatiently tapped the table, saying to Lán Lán, "You little brat, I treated you to dinner and you didn't even say thank you? What's so great about that crappy book? Is it better looking than me?"

Lán Lán finished reading the last few lines with a heavy heart, then closed the book and lifted her head with a deep sigh. "Sigh!"

"What's with the sigh?" Xiǎo Shā asked. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just upset!" Lán Lán said helplessly. "I just read this unbelievable story. If it weren't from a history book, I'd think it was some bored person making up a novel."

"What is it?" Xiǎo Shā said while pouring water for us. "What kind of unbelievable story? Come on, tell us—I love stories."

"Well..." Lán Lán reached out to take the water cup. "It's about something that happened in Europe back then... called Liè Wū Xíng Dòng."

"Liè Wū Xíng Dòng?" Xiǎo Shā and Xiǎo Yā Jiě exchanged glances, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"You won't believe it..." Lán Lán shook her head. "During the height of Liè Wū Xíng Dòng, if you just pointed at a woman on the street and shouted, 'She's a witch,' she would be seen as a heretic and burned to death."

I froze for a moment after hearing that, then slowly lowered my head.

"Huh...?" Xiǎo Shā was stunned. "What?!"

"That's how absurd it was," Lán Lán gestured with her hand. "Just some random accusation could get a woman killed outright. She had no way to prove she wasn't a witch, so no matter how she explained, no one believed her. Everyone would beat her, curse her, and in the end, burn her to death."

"What kind of nonsense is that?" Xiǎo Yā Jiě cursed. "Get accused and you're done for?"

"Yeah, theoretically, there are no witches in the world at all. But guess how many people accused of being witches were burned during Liè Wū Xíng Dòng?"

"How many...?"

"Official records say over 100,000 people," Lán Lán said, holding her water cup. "And if you include the unrecorded ones and unofficial executions, it's roughly estimated to be several hundred thousand."

"Damn!" Xiǎo Yā Jiě swore loudly. "That's just pure injustice, isn't it? Are women not even human?"

"Why are you getting so worked up, sis..." Xiǎo Shā said with a laugh. "There's no Liè Wū Xíng Dòng like that anymore... This shows that modern society has become more civilized."

Is it really gone?

No, Liè Wū Xíng Dòng has always existed.

At home and abroad, in the past and present, it's always been there.

A plump woman walks into a workshop and points at a stranger, shouting, "She's a witch," and that woman becomes an outcast in no time, with no chance of redemption.

I am an evil heretic, deserving to be burned to death.

Human traffickers want to snatch women off the street, so they just rush up and slap them a few times. If someone tries to stop them, they say, "We're catching witches," and the crowd stands by silently as they drag an innocent woman into a van.

We are evil heretics, deserving to be burned to death.

I've heard customers say that young people chat on places called "forums" these days.

Once someone posts photos or videos of a beating with the caption "Beating a witch," the comments section turns one-sided.

They say, "Witches deserve to be beaten," they say, "Good job," they say, "Now she knows it hurts," they say, "Why didn't she think of this earlier?"

We are all evil heretics, deserving to be burned to death.

It's as if we should be grateful that society has become more civilized, or we'd all be tied up and thrown on the fire.

But has anyone ever verified how many people, like me, are innocent?

And how can those who are innocent ever clear their names?

Everyone subscribes to the idea that "even a wise official can't settle family matters," so they take vigilante justice against witches accused of being "disloyal," "unchaste," or "unself-loving."

We are all evil heretics, deserving to be burned to death.

It seems like people everywhere are talking about this—the world has its own versions of "hunt operations" in every region.

When a mob gathers, their destructive power is beyond imagination.

No wonder people always talk about "believing in the power of the people" but rarely mention "believing in the wisdom of the people."

In a crowd, even unbelievable things become believable.

"Tiān Tiān... why the long face?" Xiǎo Yā Jiě looked at me. "Are you tired today?"

"No." I snapped out of it and shook my head. "Jiě, I want to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

"I want to take on jobs."

"Take on jobs...?" Xiǎo Yā Jiě paused with her cigarette in hand, and some ash fell to the ground. "You little brat... you're only eighteen. Are you sure about this? Even if you work as a massage therapist your whole life, I wouldn't..."

"I've thought it through." I nodded. "Jiě, I don't have time left. I need a lot of money."

"...If you've thought it through, start tomorrow then."

In just one year, I earned over 70,000 yuan.

I was only nineteen years old that year.

Compared to when I left home, I had become a completely different person.

I was full of wounds and had grown numb to everything.

I felt like my subconscious was always making excuses for myself, no matter what I did, saying it was all for my seriously ill younger brother.

He was the reason for all my actions, but it wasn't until that day, when I opened up to a regular customer about my situation, that I heard his response.

"I know..." the regular customer laughed. "A gambling dad, a sick mom, a brother in school, and a broken family... I know."

"What...?"

"That's the same story everyone in your line of work tells." The regular customer shook his head with a smile. "But you're too straightforward, kid. Just saying your brother is sick won't make customers pity you. Next time, add more, like your mom is sick too, and your dad is sick. I'm a regular, so I won't hold it against you. Come on, let's go to the car."

Maybe that's the day I truly died inside.

Thinking about it, there's a ridiculous sense of fate.

My parents always said that everyone has their own destiny, and it seems mine was destined for this line of work.

Even "my sick brother" is just seen as a standard excuse in the industry, cutting off any way I could justify myself.

Is that really how it is? Do Xiǎo Shā, Lán Lán, and even Xiǎo Yā Jiě all use similar stories?

So, I'm still the same me, the one no one will ever trust.

It was also on that day, in the regular customer's car, that I heard my phone ring. It was my new phone, and the first call from my parents.

I had wanted to use it to stay in touch with them.

I had wanted to gradually rebuild my connection with my family.

I had wanted to live like a human being again.

But on the other end of the line, my mom was crying as she told me that Liáng Wā's condition had worsened badly because it was delayed for so long, and now there's no way to cure it with surgery.