Xiao Liang stood at the courtyard gate, rubbing his temples as he thought things through for a moment. Then he raised both hands to show Lin Xuetong that he carried nothing. Under the bloodshot stare of Lin Xuetong’s eyes, he stepped cautiously into the yard.

The resentment he had accumulated in his previous life had never found an outlet. Seeing Xiao Yujun tied tightly to the tree trunk with electrical wire, Xiao Liang lifted his leg and drove a vicious kick straight into Xiao Yujun’s chest.

“Xiao Liang!”

Standing at the courtyard entrance, Wang Xingmin, Zhao Zhishan, Yuan Wenhai, and Fan Chunjiang all saw the blow. It was merciless and heavy enough that it nearly knocked the breath out of Xiao Yujun. As Xiao Yujun gasped for air, they shouted sharply for Xiao Liang to think of the bigger picture.

Xiao Liang merely shrugged toward the people outside the gate. After drawing a deep breath, he walked over to Lin Xuetong, dropped onto the dirt ground beside him, and began talking as if they were simply chatting.

“I was auditing the accounts for Nanting Village and the juice factory. Xiao Yujun was afraid their embezzlement would be exposed, so he ordered He Hong to frame me with a false accusation. Honestly, deep down I really wish you’d just set them on fire—only then would I feel this anger in my chest settle. But my reason tells me it isn’t worth it…”

“…When I walked in here, Secretary Wang, Mayor Fan, and the others were all watching me. They expect me to talk you out of doing something rash. If I encouraged you instead, I’d never be able to hold my head up in Yunshe again. I’d forget about any future promotion or success. Tell me—would it be worth destroying my own future just to satisfy my anger?”

“…These past few days on the run after being falsely accused were absolute hell. I’m not ashamed to say it—I hid in a cheap hotel and cried more than once. Prison itself isn’t what scares me. I studied law as a minor when I graduated from university. I know that even if I were wrongly convicted, it might just be a suspended sentence. What I fear is never clearing my name—being branded a rapist forever. If that happened, I’d never be able to walk with my head held high again. My whole life would be ruined. How could I not hate Xiao Yujun and He Hong?”

He Hong, half-naked and tied to the tree with wire, saw Lin Xuetong beginning to waver. Her hoarse voice broke in again, pleading desperately.

“Xuetong, don’t do something stupid. I’ve wronged you, but Xiao Yujun didn’t touch Xi Xi. He wanted to, but I caught him before he could. Ever since, when Xi Xi gets out of school I send her straight to her grandmother’s house every day so he never gets the chance—”

“Shut the hell up!”

Xiao Liang grabbed a clod of dirt from the ground and hurled it straight at her face.

“You don’t even know what the law says! Even if that bastard didn’t actually do anything to Xi Xi, the moment he laid hands on her it counts as **indecent assault** under the law. And when the victim is a minor, the penalty is even heavier. That’s prison time! Your own disgrace isn’t enough for you—you still want to defend that son of a bitch?”

Xiao Liang took two sharp breaths, then glanced toward the courtyard gate.

“Captain Yuan, got a cigarette?”

He paused, realizing how foolish that would be in a yard soaked with gasoline fumes, and waved the thought away.

“Forget it. I’d end up setting myself on fire.”

He crushed another dirt clod in his hand and let the dust fall before continuing to speak to Lin Xuetong.

“…I know how much you hate them. You don’t care if you drag yourself down with them. I thought the same thing two days ago. I figured they’d ruined my life, so I might as well stab them both and then stab myself to finish it. I’m not hiding it—I even bought a rope and a knife in Sucheng.”

“…But in the end I chickened out. I chose to surrender to Captain Yuan. Not just because I believed the police would clear my name, but because it wasn’t worth it.”

“…And that’s what I’m telling you now. It isn’t worth it. I’m not saying it’s not worth sacrificing yourself—when something like this happens, who can think clearly about themselves? What I’m saying is that ending like this isn’t worth it **for Xi Xi**.”

He gestured toward the yard.

“If you stab them or set them on fire right now, in front of all of us, there’s no escaping the death penalty. The three of you will be finished today—but what about Xi Xi? Her mother burned alive by her own father in front of hundreds of villagers, and then her father executed. How do you expect her to live the rest of her life? Wouldn’t that completely destroy her?”

“…If you stop now, I can’t promise you’ll walk away free. You might spend a year or two in prison. But Xi Xi will be different. She’ll know her father loved her enough to risk everything for her. People won’t dare look at her with contempt—at least not openly. That’s the choice you should make.”

He pointed at Xiao Yujun.

“As for that bastard Xiao Yujun—indecent assault on a minor, embezzling collective assets, and masterminding a false accusation. That’s several years in prison at the very least. And you know what? Even in prison there’s a hierarchy. Guys who molest minors are at the very bottom. Everyone despises them.”

He gave a faint, cold smile.

“Real killers who avoid the death penalty actually have the easiest time inside—no one dares mess with them. So if you want real revenge, sending Xiao Yujun to prison is the best outcome. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Captain Yuan to tell you some stories about prison life…”

“There’s none of that nonsense in socialist prisons,” Yuan Wenhai snapped quickly from the gate. “Don’t drag me into your bullshit.”

Seeing Lin Xuetong collapse onto the ground as if all the strength had drained from him, Xiao Liang felt sweat gathering in his palms. Slowly, he stepped forward and gently took the lighter from Lin Xuetong’s hand.

Qian Haiyun and a nearby auxiliary officer seized the moment and hurried inside. Grabbing Lin Xuetong—who no longer resisted—they dragged him out of the yard before even bothering with handcuffs. Moments later, other officers rushed in and began cutting the wires binding Xiao Yujun and He Hong to the tree.

Yuan Wenhai walked over and saw Xiao Liang still sitting on the ground. He gave him a light kick.

“What are you still doing sitting there?”

“My legs are weak as hell,” Xiao Liang muttered.

Having been reborn in 1994 and gone through so much in just a few days, the emotional strain had finally caught up with him.

“Today I just cleared my name. If Lin Xuetong had snapped a minute ago, I would’ve gone down with them.”

“Weak my ass,” Yuan Wenhai laughed, now that the crisis had passed. “We had fire extinguishers ready outside. Worst case, you’d just be disfigured.”

“Next time don’t expect me to help you with anything,” Xiao Liang swore.

Seeing Yuan Wenhai’s arm in a cast, he turned to Sui Jing.

“Officer Sui, give me a hand.”

“He’s trying to take advantage of you, Xiao Sui,” Yuan Wenhai said mercilessly.

Sui Jing shot him an annoyed look before stepping forward and helping Xiao Liang to his feet.

Zhao Zhishan and Fan Chunjiang entered the yard as well. Taking in the scene, both wore complicated expressions.

Wang Xingmin, however, looked rather pleased as he turned to Xiao Liang.

“You’ve been through a lot these past couple of days, Xiao.”

It had been Sui Jing who first exposed the contradictions in the case by stopping people on the street. Gu Peijun had delivered the whistleblowing materials about the juice factory to Wang Xingmin’s residence in the middle of the night. And through Yuan Wenhai, Wang Xingmin had learned that Zhao Zhishan and Fan Chunjiang weren’t particularly close.

Even now, Wang Xingmin had no idea what Xiao Liang—the supposed rape suspect—had secretly done behind the scenes. Perhaps he never would.

But one thing he had seen with his own eyes: while everyone else stood helpless outside the yard, Xiao Liang had stepped forward at the critical moment, risking himself and breaking Lin Xuetong’s resolve in a matter of minutes, defusing a crisis that had left them all sweating.

As for Xiao Liang beating Du Xuebing earlier—so long as it hadn’t spiraled out of control, who would really care?

Or perhaps, by now, no one truly believed Du Xuebing had been innocent in Xiao Liang’s framing.

To be honest, if Xiao Liang had refused to help at all, what could any of them have said?

Everyone has their limits.

If you haven’t endured someone else’s suffering, don’t preach kindness to them.