Volume One, Chapter Eight: Surviving with a Severed Arm, Demanding Vengeance at the Door!
Just as the two of them finished eating and drinking their fill, Ye Daniu’s voice rang out from outside the mud-brick house.
“Heizi! Heizi!!”
Hearing Ye Daniu’s call, Xu Mo guessed something was wrong. He stood up, brushed the dust off his trousers, and said to the madwoman, “I’m going out for a moment.”
With that, Xu Mo strode toward the outside of the mud house.
Stepping out, he saw Ye Daniu panting heavily, carrying Ye Hongxing on his back.
Ye Hongxing’s injured arm was exposed, the skin showing a bluish-purple hue.
Ye Daniu steadied his breath as he reached Xu Mo and said, “Heizi, please save Hongxing!”
Seeing Ye Daniu’s anxious face and the tears welling in his eyes, Xu Mo frowned and said, “Uncle Daniu, I can’t guarantee anything.”
“Heizi, I know what you’re worried about. I promise you here, as long as you’re willing to try to save Hongxing, no matter if he pulls through or not, I won’t blame you.”
Lying on Ye Daniu’s back, Ye Hongxing’s face was pale, his eyes filled with fear. His voice trembled as he pleaded, “Heizi, please, save me. I haven’t even married yet. I don’t want to die!”
Xu Mo sighed softly and looked at Ye Daniu, “Uncle, I’ll be honest—if Hongxing doesn’t make it, it won’t be my fault.”
“I know, I know!” Ye Daniu replied.
“Alright then.” Xu Mo turned and went back into the mud house.
Under the anxious gazes of Ye Daniu and Ye Hongxing, Xu Mo came out holding a tall little earthen jar.
He filled the jar with snow, then walked over to Ye Daniu, looking at Ye Hongxing lying on his back. “Put your arm in.”
“Oh, oh, oh!” Ye Hongxing quickly extended his numb arm into the jar.
Xu Mo’s method was simple: he intended to completely “freeze” Ye Hongxing’s injured arm.
“Uncle, go to the Old Blind Man’s house and get some moxa candles.”
“All right, all right!” Ye Daniu hurriedly put Ye Hongxing down and ran out of the courtyard.
Ye Hongxing squatted on the ground, his arm in the jar, looking at the indifferent Xu Mo with pleading eyes. “Heizi, will I die?”
Xu Mo said nothing.
Outside, the temperature was bitterly cold, already dropping to minus forty or fifty degrees. The arm in the jar was quickly becoming numb and rigid.
Xu Mo pressed on it—it was as hard as a board.
Soon, Ye Daniu and his wife rushed back anxiously.
Ye Daniu carried a small cloth bag filled with moxa candles.
The Old Blind Man was the village’s traditional healer, with all sorts of herbs at home. The moxa candles were currently the best remedy to stop bleeding.
Ye Hongxing’s mother, her eyes red from crying, ran to her son and draped a coat over his back.
“Heizi, here’s the moxa candles,” Ye Daniu handed the bag to Xu Mo while taking the larger cloth bag from Ye Hongxing’s mother. “Heizi, take these coarse grains and salt for now. Also, this military knife was sent back by Hongxing’s older brother.”
Xu Mo didn’t take the big cloth bag—he wasn’t lacking food and certainly wouldn’t eat coarse grains.
But the military knife caught his eye.
“Uncle, forget the food. I’ll take the knife!”
“Swish!”
Just as Ye Daniu was about to say something, Xu Mo suddenly reversed the knife and slashed at Ye Hongxing’s arm still inside the jar.
Ye Hongxing barely reacted but suddenly felt unsteady and sat down hard.
Ye Daniu and his wife widened their eyes, staring at Ye Hongxing’s shoulder.
His left arm was gone.
“My, my arm is gone!” Ye Hongxing turned and stared blankly at his shoulder.
Blood poured out.
Xu Mo grabbed the moxa candles from the bag and pressed them against the stump.
“My son!!!” Ye Hongxing’s mother wailed in tears.
Ye Daniu kicked his wife hard, his face grim. “He’s not dead yet. What’s there to cry about?”
“Uncle, as long as the moxa candles stop the bleeding, Hongxing should be okay.”
In other words, if the bleeding couldn’t be stopped, Ye Hongxing probably wouldn’t survive.
Xu Mo turned and went inside, cut off a large piece of venison, then came out and handed it to Ye Daniu. “Make soup to help him recover. Whether he lives or dies depends on whether the King of Hell takes him.”
“Heizi, thank you!” Ye Daniu glanced at his wife, who took the venison. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the dazed Ye Hongxing. “Boy, you have to hold on!”
“Heizi, I’ll be going now! When Hongxing recovers, he’ll come personally to thank you!”
“Mm.”
Ye Hongxing’s mother sobbed softly, carrying the venison and the jar with her son’s arm, following the two men.
Xu Mo sighed quietly. Stopping the bleeding was only the first step; preventing infection was crucial... Whether Ye Hongxing survived was truly a matter of fate.
Just as Xu Mo was about to return to the mud house, a chorus of shouts and curses erupted from the front yard.
A large group of villagers, brandishing shoulder poles and machetes, marched here with fierce determination.
Xu Mo raised his brow and immediately dashed inside to grab the old hunting rifle.
“Xu Heizi, come out here!”
“Xu Heizi, a life for a life! You killed Gouzi, and today you’ll pay for it!”
“Yes, yes, killing demands justice!”
Xu Mo frowned at the agitated villagers and said coldly, “What nonsense are you spouting? Who the hell said I killed Ye Gouzi?”
Ye Gouzi’s father, Ye Dahan, a burly man, was flushed red-faced from anger, glaring at Xu Mo and shouting, “Kui Zi already said, if you hadn’t rubbed ash on Gouzi’s neck, he wouldn’t have died!”
Xu Mo couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at that. Ye Gouzi had been bitten in an artery, and using ash to stop the bleeding was a desperate measure.
If he had done nothing, Gouzi would have died even faster.
Seeing the crowd so riled up, Xu Mo knew no matter how he explained, they wouldn’t listen.
Ye Gouzi’s death gave these relatives and friends an excuse to vent their grief.
Xu Mo narrowed his eyes, staring at Ye Dahan gripping the machete and cursing loudly.
In these parts, killing a few people wasn’t considered a big deal.
But Xu Mo’s physical condition was still too weak; if this mob attacked, he’d almost certainly be beaten to death.
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