ad-fusion Chapter 551: Village Murder Case
Chapter 551: Village Murder Case
In the blink of an eye, the fields turned golden.
Corn, soybeans, and sesame seeds matured in succession, and the entire Qinghe Bay was engaged in a race to harvest them.
From the beginning of spring to mid-summer, the weather had been favorable, leading to another bumper crop of corn this year.
Besides the corn harvest, Tong Huaqiong also welcomed a bumper harvest of thirty acres of cotton.
The snow-white cotton bloomed in the fields, looking like piles of silver beckoning Tong Huaqiong.
Picking cotton is more labor-intensive than shucking corn, as it requires opening the cotton bolls and picking the cotton piece by piece.
Since there were no cotton sorting machines at that time, and the cotton fibers could easily get dirty with dried leaves and soil, subsequent sorting required a lot of manpower. Therefore, Tong Huaqiong specifically instructed the hired workers to avoid letting the dry leaves touch the cotton fibers as much as possible.
Picking thirty acres of cotton is no small task.
This time, Tong Huaqiong left the cotton picking to the village’s women and girls. First, because women handle cotton picking meticulously, and second, she wanted the village women to earn some money.
Picking five pounds of cotton earns one coin, plus a meal, which was considered very light work for the villagers.
While the women in the village were picking cotton with cloth bags slung around their necks, Tong Huaqiong’s weaving workshop was nearly ready.
After Gu Daqiao assembled and modified the first cotton spinning machine, he swiftly moved to assemble the second and third machines. With the experience from the first machine and the help of some handy young men from the village, they quickly assembled ten cotton spinning machines.
In addition, there was also a cotton ginning machine.
Of course, the essential production material, cotton, was indispensable. Besides the three thousand pounds of cotton from her thirty acres, Tong Huaqiong had Gu Baishuang and Gu Dashu store a hundred thousand pounds of cotton.
This was enough to test the waters in the cotton textile industry.
In the first year, Tong Huaqiong didn’t plan to make much money; breaking even would be enough.
The weaving workshop was set up in the old house and courtyard abandoned by Mr. Gu’s grandparents.
This courtyard was originally inherited by Mr. Gu and his second brother, who had always been on good terms before Gu Xiaoxue was married to Xu Dabao, and they never argued about this courtyard.
Both families had houses and courtyards, and their sons didn’t lack for them either. Later, Mr. Gu moved south with his second brother, leaving this courtyard for them to grow vegetables and raise chickens.
Over time, without anyone living there, the house became dilapidated, although the courtyard remained neat and tidy.
After Mr. Gu’s house was vandalized by the Xu family, he considered moving to the courtyard left by his parents. However, considering the house there leaked rain and wasn’t much better than their vandalized home, he abandoned the idea.
Tong Huaqiong discussed it with his second brother, who gladly offered the courtyard to Tong Huaqiong for the weaving workshop.
After all, he wouldn’t lose anything. Once the workshop was up and running, his daughter-in-law and granddaughter could work with Tong Huaqiong, and the money they earned in a year could buy all the vegetables grown in the courtyard.
Tong Huaqiong happily gave Gu’s second uncle two bags of flour and a piglet as compensation.
The renovation of the house was entrusted to Liu Tieshan’s eldest son, Liu Tong, the most skilled bricklayer in the village. The tables and shelves for storing cotton and fabric were handled by Gu Xiaocao’s father, Gu Guangkui.
The two quickly gathered a group of laborers and got to work.
Tong Huaqiong inspected the cotton-picking work in the fields and decided to check on the progress at the weaving workshop.
In the autumn in Qinghe Bay, every household was piled high with golden corn, and the harvested fields emitted a fresh earthy aroma.
Tong Huaqiong walked down the road in a good mood.
At the entrance of the village, she encountered Gu Xiaoxue walking towards her own fields with a basket in her arms.
By now, the corn had been shucked and brought home, and every household was busy cutting down the corn stalks, after which they would sow wheat seeds.
Farm work required every second to be seized, as even a heavy rain could destroy this year’s planting plans.
Earlier, when Tong Huaqiong passed by the cornfield of the old house, she saw Gu Ruinian, who hadn’t appeared for a long time, joining the labor. It was like a knife piquing curiosity.
Gu Xiaoxue came closer to Tong Huaqiong and greeted her with a smile, calling her auntie.
The basket on her arm held a water jug, which Tong Huaqiong knew was to bring water to family members working in the fields.
Tong Huaqiong gave a faint smile as a greeting, still feeling a sense of disappointment in Gu Xiaoxue.
"Auntie." After a few steps, Gu Xiaoxue suddenly called out to Tong Huaqiong.
Tong Huaqiong stopped, and Gu Xiaoxue took out a package of scallion pancakes wrapped in a cloth from her basket and approached her with a serious expression, saying, "Auntie, I know who’s good to me. I made these scallion pancakes especially for you."
Tong Huaqiong did not take them.
"I specially used a lot of oil, they’re very fragrant." She pushed them into Tong Huaqiong’s hands without giving her a chance to refuse, then took up her basket and walked toward the fields.
Tong Huaqiong suddenly felt that today’s Gu Xiaoxue was different from before.
Tong Huaqiong attributed this to her wearing new clothes, feeling emboldened by her attire, without the previous timidity and lowliness.
The new clothes Gu Xiaoxue wore were familiar to Tong Huaqiong, a gift from Gu Taohua.
The clothes fit her perfectly, unlike the tightness of old clothes clinging to her body.
Knowing it wouldn’t be long before Gu Xiaoxue would marry Xu Dabao made Tong Huaqiong feel a pang of sadness.
Oh well, it was the path she had chosen.
Tong Huaqiong walked towards the weaving workshop with the warm scallion pancake in her hand.
Though it wasn’t lunchtime, and Tong Huaqiong hadn’t felt hungry after bustling about in the cotton fields, the aroma of the pancake stirred her appetite. She took out a piece and put it in her mouth. She had to admit Gu Xiaoxue’s culinary skills were excellent; the scallion pancake was crispy and delicious.
Tong Huaqiong only stayed at the weaving workshop for a short while and expressed satisfaction with the efficiency of Liu Tieshan’s eldest son, Liu Tong.
"Someone drank pesticide!"
"Gu Xiaoxue is killing someone!"
Footsteps hastened outside, accompanied by shouting and running.
What?
Drinking pesticide? Killing someone? Gu Xiaoxue?
These together caused Tong Huaqiong’s mind to go blank.
"Who drank pesticide?"
"Who did Xiaoxue kill?"
Tong Huaqiong, forgetting past grievances, grabbed Mrs. Luo.
Mrs. Luo clapped her hands, eyes sparkling with excitement, and said, "Xiaoxue intended to poison Xu Dabao, and the pesticide ended up in Liu Qingsong’s stomach."
After speaking, Mrs. Luo jumped up and down, heading to the scene of the incident.
Upon hearing that the poison ended up in his own brother’s stomach, Liu Tong dropped the adobe in his hand and dashed to the front of the crowd with a howl.
Tong Huaqiong, with no time to think, ran along.
The riverbank where the incident occurred was crowded with people.
Amidst the crowd, a low and high cry could be heard; Tong Huaqiong recognized it as Liu Tieshan’s wife, Mrs. Yi, and her heart sank. Could Liu Qingsong be poisoned to death?
People gathered around someone shouting, and Tong Huaqiong craned her neck to see.
Liu Qingsong was being held down and force-fed water by Gu Jingzhe, who had just returned from the city.
"Brother Liu Tong, help me make him vomit," Gu Jingzhe said to Liu Tong.
Liu Tong, his legs weak, trembled with both hands.
Without hesitation, Gu Dahan reached into Liu Qingsong’s throat, making him retch.
"More water."
"Make him vomit again."
Gu Jingzhe calmly ordered, and before long, Liu Qingsong was retching even stomach acid, utterly exhausted, his face pale as a sheet, and was carried home by the crowd.
The doctor followed, but it was uncertain if Liu Qingsong would survive.
Swallowing pesticide was no small matter, the outlook grim.