Everyone was curious about the car accident that had occurred a few days prior, and they all wanted to hear a different account from Du Heng. Seeing Du Heng arrive, they slowly gathered around.

Then, quite naturally, Du Heng suddenly became the center of attention.

Some older folks, acquaintances but not close friends, started asking, "Du Heng, I heard Bingzi’s wife had her head smashed to pieces. Is that true?"

"I heard Bingzi’s entire back of his skull is gone, and all his brains oozed out?"

Du Heng ignored these kinds of questions entirely, not even deigning to glance at the people asking them.

Were they really concerned about Bingzi and his wife? No, they only wanted to satisfy their morbid curiosity. In the future, when they met someone who didn’t know about this incident, it would become fodder for their bragging. Moreover, they would concoct numerous theories of karma and retribution to highlight their supposed profound insights. It wasn’t that Du Heng himself was cynical; this was just the baser side of human nature, perhaps even an instinct for these peasants. He had heard such talk countless times growing up.

Even the Old Secretary, who had dedicated himself to the village, became the subject of similar karmic theories after he and his Old Partner passed away last year.

Du Heng ignored the questions from these gawkers. Then, some more familiar acquaintances began to ask, "Xiao Heng, what was the final decision regarding the other families demanding compensation from Bingzi’s family? How much money did Bingzi’s family agree to pay?"

"Exactly, Xiao Heng, you need to speak up for your brother Bingzi. Everyone boarded the vehicle voluntarily, and Bingzi was just trying to make things convenient for everyone. People shouldn’t be so heartless."

These questions, while still tinged with curiosity, also contained genuine concern. At least they were more palatable than the earlier, utterly vexing ones.

Nevertheless, Du Heng didn’t know the answers to these questions either, so he could only honestly say he didn’t know.

However, the people who had gathered around didn’t seem to believe him.

Only a few, two of his own clan cousins, asked, "Xiao Heng, has the town said anything about arrangements for the child and the elderly? With Bingzi and his wife gone, only the grandmother and grandson remain. Life will be very difficult for them."

Du Heng was silent for a moment; he still didn’t know the answer to this question either. Seeing that Du Heng offered no answers, the gawkers gradually dispersed, reforming into small groups. Soon, only his close relatives remained around Du Heng.

「 」

Before long, the village head, who had been busy before the coffins, began to call out loudly. The middle-aged and young men, previously scattered around, started moving towards the coffins one by one.

At the same time, some people picked up ropes, while others began preparing the wooden poles for carrying the coffins.

With a shout of "Lift!", the two dark-red coffins were carried away amidst the crowd’s calls, but without the wails of filial sons and virtuous grandsons.

The funerals for the other two families followed a similar process, with fellow villagers lending a hand.

By the time everything was settled and the grave mounds were raised, the morning had passed.

Du Heng didn’t go to the other two families but went directly home with Du Ping.

His Sister-in-law, Zhang Sumei, was in the kitchen cooking. Seeing the two brothers enter with armfuls of things for the New Year, her face instantly crinkled into a smile, lines appearing around her eyes.

She wiped her hands and hurried out. "Xiao Heng, are these all things for the New Year from your work unit? Why so much oil? Isn’t there anything else?"

Du Heng placed the two barrels of oil in the kitchen. "There are some other things. I’ll bring them in, and you can sort them out, Sister-in-law."

With that, he and Du Ping went out to the car to get more items.

Watching the two brothers go in and out, Zhang Sumei’s smile never left her face. She kept murmuring, "This is too much. Take some to your place too."

The combined items from their two workplaces were indeed a lot, but it was mostly just a few types of things. Especially the gifts from the Provincial First Hospital, which were all boxed items—typically more for appearance than practical value. The reason Du Heng and his brother made several trips was that, among the items, many were things Du Heng himself had purchased.

Du Heng put down the items he was carrying and said to his Sister-in-law with a smile, "Why take them to my place? I don’t cook. They’d just attract mice or end up going moldy."

"You’re right." His Sister-in-law looked at the crammed kitchen again, a mix of joy and slight concern in her expression. "But this is so much stuff; we can’t possibly finish it all."

Du Ping clapped his hands. "The oil, steak, and such—tomorrow, let’s take some to Tingting’s maternal uncle. And a box of the fish too. There’s too much."

At these words, Zhang Sumei’s smile bloomed once more. Gifting a box of fish like that would be quite presentable.

「 」

After lunch, Du Heng was preparing to drive back to the Health Clinic for work, but a sudden phone call disrupted his plans again.

"What’s up, Fei?"

Du Fei’s voice on the other end was urgent. "Come quickly and take a look! It seems Bingzi’s Mother has had a stroke."

Du Heng’s heart tightened. Her son and daughter-in-law had both met with disaster simultaneously. Among the deceased, Bingzi and his wife had suffered the most horrific injuries. Even after the morticians had prepared the bodies and performed restorative work, the gruesome details were still discernible. It was entirely possible that Bingzi’s Mother, overwhelmed by excessive grief, had suffered a stroke.

At the same time, he asked, "What’s the situation now?"

"I can’t explain it clearly. She’s conscious but can’t speak. She can’t stand or sit, only lie down. Her arms also seem unresponsive; she can’t move them."

Puzzled, Du Heng hung up and headed straight for Du Bing’s house.

By now, with the help of relatives and neighbors, Du Bing’s house had been tidied up completely, bearing no resemblance to the morning’s disarray.

Entering the courtyard, it felt exceptionally quiet, eerily so.

Du Heng shivered, unconsciously shaking his shoulders. Seeing a figure moving inside the room through the window, he coughed loudly twice and deliberately made his footsteps heavier as he entered the house.

Du Fei was extremely anxious. Hearing Du Heng’s voice was like clutching at a lifeline. He quickly lifted the door curtain just before Du Heng could enter.

"Xiao Heng, please take a look, quickly."

"Mm-hmm," Du Heng responded softly and walked directly to the bedside.

Fear filled Du Bing’s Mother’s eyes. When she saw Du Heng, a look of desperate appeal flashed across her face.

But her entire body was rigid, as if experiencing sleep paralysis: her hands and legs were immobile, and she couldn’t even move her neck. Only her face twitched intermittently, not in a controlled manner, but more like an unconscious tremor.

Du Heng was puzzled. He had seen and heard little about other diseases, but he had seen many strokes. Du Bing’s Mother’s condition didn’t look like a stroke at all.

"Auntie, can you speak?"

Just as Du Heng finished asking, Du Bing’s Mother’s mouth moved slightly a few times. But her mouth barely opened, and she only managed to produce unintelligible sounds from her throat. It was as if her tongue wasn’t involved in forming words at all.

He reached out to take her arm for a pulse diagnosis. However, the moment his fingers touched her skin, Du Bing’s Mother showed a pained expression, and the hairs on her arm visibly stood on end.

This physical reaction startled Du Heng, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

"It was the same when I tried to check her earlier," Du Fei said from nearby. "I didn’t dare to properly examine her. The moment my hand touched her skin, goose bumps immediately appeared."

Du Heng didn’t speak, quickly thinking it over in his mind.

Suddenly, Du Fei whispered, "Xiao Heng, do you think... she might have encountered something unclean?"

Hearing this unfounded speculation, Du Heng shot Du Fei a look, then turned back to Du Bing’s Mother on the bed, lost in thought. The room fell silent once more.

SQUEAK...

The closed door creaked open suddenly. Du Fei, so nervous he forgot to swallow, stared at the opening door with a hint of horror in his eyes.

Although Du Heng didn’t believe in such superstitions, he couldn’t help but feel a chill creep down his spine as the door was pushed open. It was too coincidental. Just as Du Fei finished speaking, the door was pushed open. Most importantly, Du Heng hadn’t heard any sounds from outside before this.

SQUEAK...

The door was pushed fully open, and a figure backed into the room. Once completely inside, the person turned around. In one hand, they held a bowl of steaming stew, and in the other, several steaming hot buns.

Du Fei let out a long sigh of relief. "Dad, why do you walk so quietly?"

Walking without making a sound—that wasn’t a good thing to say. People who walk silently are said to be either thieves or ghosts. Neither, in any case, was a good comparison.

Du Fei’s father glared at Du Fei. Seeing Du Heng was also there, he hurriedly asked, "Is your aunt feeling better? Your mom just warmed up some stew; let her get up and eat some."

As Du Fei’s father was entering, Du Heng had already turned back to observe Du Bing’s Mother on the bed. Just as Du Fei’s father finished speaking, Du Heng said directly, "Fei, bring me your needles."

Hearing this, Du Fei didn’t bother responding to his father but turned and ran straight to his own house.

After saying this, Du Heng placed both thumbs on Du Bing’s Mother’s glabella. He then firmly stroked outwards along her eyebrows to her temples. Upon reaching the temples, he massaged them clockwise for three circles. He repeated this motion constantly.

His movements were slow, but the pressure he applied was considerable. With each stroke from her glabella, Du Bing’s Mother’s eyes showed discomfort.

After five repetitions, the range of his thumb movements extended further, from the temples to the Ear Doors. At this point, Du Bing’s Mother’s facial twitching finally ceased.

Du Fei returned quickly. Without waiting for Du Heng’s instruction, he proactively opened the needle tool kit and began to disinfect the needle utensils.

Soon, several long needles had been inserted into Du Bing’s Mother’s face and arms.