CHAPTER 81: MUSHROOM VILLAGE 31

"!!!" Hao Shijun’s body hair stood on end, and he froze completely. His fingers clenched into fists hanging by his sides, veins bulging on the back of his hands.

He almost used all his strength to control himself, stopping from reflexively attacking the person in front of him in that moment.

The middle-aged man had appeared behind Hao Shijun at some unknown time, yet Hao Shijun was completely unaware—he hadn’t even heard his footsteps. It wasn’t until he turned around and suddenly faced this enlarged face.

Though the middle-aged man’s face showed no expression, it strangely appeared extremely dark and gloomy. At that instant, Hao Shijun felt a dangerously cold killing intent radiating from him.

Hao Shijun’s eyes slightly shifted to the side and caught sight of the man’s hand behind his back. The object in his hand was not fully hidden by his body, and under the sunlight, it reflected a cold gleam.

A knife! Hao Shijun felt as if this man might suddenly lash out and stab him hard with the knife in his hand.

"What are you—doing?" the middle-aged man asked again, eyes fixed tightly on Hao Shijun. His wide eyes, the white eyeballs bulging, seemed almost about to pop out of their sockets.

The middle-aged man spoke slowly and deliberately, as if each word was forced through clenched teeth.

At that moment, Hao Shijun clearly understood that if he couldn’t give a suitable answer, this man would definitely not let him go.

But what could he say? His mind raced, but in such a tense atmosphere, he couldn’t think of a reason.

Just as the situation grew extremely tense, suddenly Wan Qian’s voice came from the doorway of the tiled house.

"What’s everyone doing here?"

Wan Qian had just stepped out of the living room when she saw the middle-aged man standing close to Hao Shijun, one hand hidden behind his back, gripping a gleaming kitchen knife. She couldn’t tell what he was saying to Hao Shijun.

Wan Qian glanced at Hao Shijun, saw the yellow mud house behind him, and hurried over.

"Oh, so the toilet is here!" Wan Qian grabbed the edge of her pants, urgently needing to pee. "Brother Hao, you’re here for the toilet too? Are you done? Let me in quickly."

Hao Shijun was stunned for a moment, then instinctively replied, "Ah yes, I’m here to use the toilet, I haven’t gone yet. It’s too dark inside, I can’t see."

Wan Qian was getting desperate. Although she knew the rule of first come, first served, her bladder was more urgent.

"Let me go in first! I really can’t hold it anymore!" Wan Qian said, trying to push past Hao Shijun and go into the dark yellow mud house.

Before Wan Qian could step inside, the middle-aged man suddenly moved to block the doorway, cutting her off.

"That’s not the toilet," he said.

"Huh?" Wan Qian looked confused and very anxious, legs squeezed tightly, half-crouching. "Then where is the toilet? I’m dying to go."

The middle-aged man said, "I’ll have Xiaosong take you there," and loudly called, "Xiaosong—"

The little boy holding the ball timidly came over and called, "Third uncle."

The middle-aged man said to the boy, "You take Ms. Wan and this guest to the toilet, pick a clean one."

Wan Qian felt a little warmth hearing the man’s special instructions to the boy.

Actually, the villagers here were pretty decent people, at least honest and considerate. They knew she might not be used to rural dry toilets, so they made sure to find a clean one.

Xiaosong obediently led Wan Qian and Hao Shijun to the village dry toilet.

The toilet was just two simple huts with a pit dug in the ground to hold waste. Two wooden planks on the sides served as footrests.

But it was quite clean. There were no nasty snakes, insects, rats, or strong smells of waste.

Wan Qian was too urgent to notice details and just flung open the toilet door and went inside.

Hao Shijun didn’t even have time to say a single word to her, and the hand he had reached out froze awkwardly in midair.

Xiaosong looked at the door Wan Qian had closed, then at Hao Shijun. "Brother, aren’t you going to use the toilet?"

Stared at by Xiaosong’s clear black-and-white eyes, Hao Shijun felt a chill run through him.

Right, Wan Qian had used "going to the toilet" as a reason to fool the middle-aged man for him. He had to actually use this toilet to confirm Wan Qian’s story.

Otherwise, when they returned, if Xiaosong told the middle-aged man that he never went to the toilet, wouldn’t the whole thing be exposed?

So Hao Shijun also went into the other empty toilet.

Quickly, the two of them both took care of their physiological needs and came out of the restroom.

After finishing, Wan Qian finally felt relieved from the urgent need to urinate, and her whole body relaxed considerably.

Upon leaving the toilet, she naturally picked up a water scoop placed nearby and drew some water from the clean water bucket to wash her hands.

While washing, she chatted with Xiaosong.

"So your name is Xiaosong, huh? I forgot to ask before."

Xiaosong held the ball and nodded silently.

Wan Qian grew curious and asked, "I heard you call him Third Uncle. Are you related? What about your parents?"

Xiaosong pressed his lips together, looking rather stiff and expressionless, showing no hint of frustration or sadness on his face.

"My parents have long been gone. Third uncle and third aunt raised me," he said.

"Oh," Wan Qian’s compassion was stirred again.

She had thought this child playing alone with a ball was lonely and pitiful. She suspected he might be a left-behind child. But the truth was even harsher than she had guessed.