“Where did you learn about these things?” Song Nianchu looked at Meng Yingying with a grave expression.

“I…” Meng Yingying was momentarily at a loss for how to answer the question.

The matter of her rebirth was simply too unbelievable. Even though the other person was Song Nianchu, she didn’t dare take the risk.

What if Song Nianchu didn’t call the police to have her arrested, but instead saw her as a monster?

She had finally found someone she could call a friend, and she didn’t want to lose that.

“Chu, believe me, I wouldn’t lie to you. I remember one of the five men is named Zhou Ziqiang. You can check later if there’s someone by that name.” Meng Yingying ultimately did not reveal her secret.

Song Nianchu stared at Meng Yingying for a long moment before finally nodding.

“I’ll keep an eye out tomorrow when those refugees arrive. If there really is such a person, I’ll come find you again,” Song Nianchu said.

“Mm!” Hearing this, Meng Yingying’s face was filled with joy.

In her previous life, Song Nianchu hadn’t encountered any mishap during this incident. She had left the village afterwards and never returned.

But so many things had already changed in this lifetime, and she was truly afraid Song Nianchu might get implicated because of it.

If something happened to her, Meng Yingying would hate her own cowardice for the rest of this life.

After their conversation, the two returned to the workshop.

Meng Yingying quickly threw herself into her work, while Song Nianchu’s attention kept drifting back to her, her mind constantly turning over the words Meng Yingying had spoken earlier.

She wasn’t doubting that Meng Yingying was lying to her; in fact, she felt there was a ninety-nine percent chance what she had said was true.

She was just pondering how exactly Meng Yingying knew about this.

It seemed she, too, had some secrets unknown to others.

But for now, Song Nianchu didn’t sense any danger from her. She seemed genuinely intent on helping the villagers.

“……”

Song ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‍Nianchu didn’t tell anyone what Meng Yingying had shared with her. The next day, the brigade leaders brought the refugees to their village.

One hundred people might not sound like many, but lined up, they formed a long column.

The brigade personnel handed the people over to Wu Zhenggui and left, casting a somewhat gloating look at him before they went.

“……”

Song Nianchu had set up a table at the village entrance, registering each refugee’s name and basic information one by one.

Those who finished registration received a portion of grain, so everyone cooperated.

Without exception, these people were all skin and bones, walking unsteadily as if a gust of wind could blow them over.

Halfway through the registrations, Song Nianchu hadn’t seen a single person with any flesh on their face, until a burly man stood before her.

He looked to be about six feet tall, with solid muscles, appearing somewhat out of place among the refugees.

A flicker of suspicion crossed Song Nianchu’s mind, but her expression remained unchanged.

“Name,” Song Nianchu said, all business.

“Zhou Ziqiang.”

Hearing the name, Song Nianchu’s head snapped up.

It really was him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you don’t know how to write my name?” Seeing Song Nianchu staring at him, Zhou Ziqiang raised an eyebrow.

His gaze swept over Song Nianchu’s face, a flash of lewdness in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it.

“No, it’s just that I have a relative with the same name,” Song Nianchu quickly reined in all her emotions, writing ‘Zhou Ziqiang’ on the register with perfect naturalness.

“Hmm.” Zhou Ziqiang didn’t suspect anything.

After all, many people were named Ziqiang in those days.

“Oh, and these four behind me are my brothers. If housing is to be assigned later, put the five of us together,” Zhou Ziqiang added, as if remembering something, and gestured to the four men behind him.

Song Nianchu leaned forward to look. Tall, short, fat, thin—they had it all.

“People who know each other are usually assigned together,” Song Nianchu said, withdrawing her gaze.

“Good.” After recording his basic information, Zhou Ziqiang went to collect his food.

Seeing only a small bag of coarse rice, his frown deepened.

“Is this all? This isn’t even enough for one meal,” Zhou Ziqiang grumbled.

“This is a three-day ration,” Wu Gang reminded him.

“What? You expect us to live on this for three days? Are you raising chicks here?” Zhou Ziqiang flared up at this, grabbing Wu Gang by the collar.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Other villagers stepped forward upon seeing this.

“Give me more. I have a big appetite. I can’t fill up on this,” Zhou Ziqiang showed no fear, only fixing Wu Gang with a dangerous stare.

Wu Gang tried to struggle, but due to regional differences, people in their area, both men and women, were generally shorter, giving him no advantage against Zhou Ziqiang.

Wu Gang was already being choked, his face turning red.

Zhou Ziqiang, watching Wu Gang’s distress, felt quite pleased and was about to enjoy the moment further when a small hand suddenly clamped onto his arm.

Zhou Ziqiang turned his head impatiently and saw the girl who had registered him standing before him.

His expression softened slightly. This girl was quite pretty; she’d make a suitable wife to take home later.

“You…” Zhou Ziqiang started to say something, but Song Nianchu spoke first.

“Let go!”

“What?” Zhou Ziqiang was momentarily confused.

Song Nianchu had no patience to repeat herself. The hand gripping his arm tightened slightly, and a sharp pain shot through Zhou Ziqiang’s arm.

But a man’s pride wouldn’t let him admit a woman had hurt him. He tried to grit his teeth and bear it, but Song Nianchu saw through his act and steadily increased the pressure.

The expression on Zhou Ziqiang’s face gradually twisted in pain, and his grip on Wu Gang involuntarily loosened.

Once he could breathe a little, Wu Gang quickly broke free from Zhou Ziqiang’s hold, clutching his throat and coughing violently.

Seeing Wu Gang was free, Song Nianchu had no more reservations. She tightened her grip on Zhou Ziqiang’s hand, pivoted, and executed a perfect shoulder throw.

Zhou Ziqiang’s large body slammed heavily onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

This time, Song Nianchu hadn’t held back at all. Zhou Ziqiang lay curled on the ground like a shrimp, a pained groan escaping his lips.

The four men behind him, seeing their boss treated like this by a woman, all surged forward to avenge him.

Song Nianchu kicked the skinny man at the front of the charge, sending him flying. The three behind him immediately halted, standing warily in place, their eyes fixed on Song Nianchu with venomous glares.

Song Nianchu paid them no mind, merely sweeping her gaze over them.

“You can all come at once.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep