The Husband I Snatched Is Not Right!-Chapter 123: Taking the Law into Their Own Hands

Chapter 123: Chapter 123: Taking the Law into Their Own Hands

Fu Meng was indeed very busy.

At night, he had to become the Wangfu Stone, and during the day, he would visit the prison.

In Ze County’s prison, Hu Dongxi came and went freely.

The prison was damp, the air thick with an indescribable bloody stench.

The usually high and mighty, glamorous officials were now disheveled and miserable beyond recognition.

Landlord Dong no longer had fingers, his arms were bloody and battered, and he was curled up in a corner, trembling with terror at any sound.

The rest of the Dong Family were either fainted or incontinent.

Landlord Dong, already driven to madness by torture, cursed wildly.

"I did nothing wrong! What General Wei, his death was from his own ill fate! What’s it got to do with me? I didn’t harm him. Why can’t I marry a wife?"

"What kind of justice is this!"

"You’re administering corporal punishment outside the law!"

Fu Meng lifted a paw and slapped it down, not bothering to retract his claws, easily leaving five bloody streaks on Landlord Dong’s face.

A bit harder, and it might’ve snapped his head off.

"Ah!"

A piercing scream rose.

Fu Meng found it annoying.

He covered his ears.

But it was still noisy.

So without a word, he slammed forward.

Landlord Dong’s body arched in the air, slammed hard into the wall, convulsing in pain, frothing at the mouth, unable to utter a word before he fainted.

The jailers exchanged glances.

"Dead?"

"Though not a single member of the Dong Family is good, and God knows how many lives they’ve taken, many have gone to the post station to report them these past few days, we mustn’t let it result in death, quickly report to the higher-ups."

"You think the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice doesn’t know? He suggested long ago to let the Wei Family Army handle it, but they said they couldn’t, and bluntly told the Vice Minister that if he didn’t mind, he could lend a hand."

What can the Vice Minister do?

He can’t very well scold those Wei Family Army men.

After all, they were speaking the truth.

There truly was no one left who could manage this mess.

Yet it can’t be detained, can’t be beaten.

Fu Meng had followed at the border all these years and had proven his worth.

"Luckily, the Wei Family Army, seeing the Vice Minister’s dilemma, said they’d take responsibility if anyone died, as long as it made Fu Meng happy. Even if the breath had just ceased, as long as the corpse wasn’t cold, with Elder Ge around, they could pull him back from Ghost Gate."

"But revived, he might be paralyzed anyway. Landlord Dong has been between life and death a few times these days, already a bit deranged." 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"That’s not important; the important thing is surviving enables White Tiger to keep tormenting. The Wei Family Army thinks it’s best to find Fu Meng something to do, to keep it from causing trouble on the streets. It would be no laughing matter if it frightened the people."

The remaining officials thought... it made sense.

Anyway, the people in this prison weren’t worth much.

After doing something bad, Fu Meng didn’t feel guilty at all.

He strutted out of the prison, feeling refreshed, enjoying the sun leisurely.

His tail swayed back and forth.

Passersby watched from a distance.

"Did you hear those horrible screams from inside?"

"Heard it, happens every day around this hour."

"Did you see? That White Tiger with bloodstained claws, God knows what animal it messed with. So enviable."

Someone angrily remarked.

"If only it would avenge me! Who knows when those people from Shangjing will arrive! I fear there might be too many interests involved, who knows if they’ll cover for each other. Officials... how many good ones are there!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the crowd became agitated.

Who could disagree?

Not a day passes without cutting off those people’s heads that they can be at ease.

Lingering in Ze County, isn’t just to watch their enemies’ heads fall?

The man clutched his chest, his voice choked with grief: "But death is too easy for them! I can’t wait any longer and wish I could rush in to hack the corrupt official who harmed my daughter into pieces now! Let him taste the pain of being blood-soaked!"

Just then, a beggar staggered forward.

The man did not look old but was filthy, hair messy, and he reeked. The encircling crowd involuntarily made way.

"It’s actually him."

"Who?"

The aunt with a basket: "I know him; he used to be a Scholar. Though from the countryside, he was ambitious. No elders at home, but a virtuous wife, the couple was very loving, envied by others."

"But..."

She sighed: "His wife was fancied by the County Magistrate’s son. While he was at school, they barged in and... "

"She miscarried the five-month child, and unable to bear the humiliation, she hung herself."

"When he got home, the body had already started to stink."

"He wanted to report to the authorities, but back then reporting was a joke. Beaten to a breath from death, he was thrown into a mass grave."

"Yet somehow, he survived."

But sometimes living in pain is worse than death.

"He went mad."

As they were talking, the Scholar headed straight for Fu Meng, falling to his knees with a thud.

The crowd gasped.

"Watch out."

"Come back."

The Scholar couldn’t hear them, maddeningly kowtowing to Fu Meng.

Even Fu Meng, who wanted to swat him away, was dumbfounded.

His brain couldn’t comprehend.

Fu Meng was about to roar at him.

The man pulled some money wrapped in warm paper out from his chest and handed it to him.

He spoke in a jumbled mess.

"Here, receive a fee, diagnose the pulse, help with payment."

He hurriedly pulled out a crumpled paper from his chest, spread it, a portrait, placed under Fu Meng’s eyes.

"Him."

"Revenge."

Fu Meng glanced at it.

Very familiar.

Wasn’t it a person he’d seen in the prison?

This time his brain understood, but he was disdainful.

He wasn’t a tiger that helped others for fun.

Nor would he take orders from just anyone. He waved his tail, intending to scare him off.

"Help me."

"Help me."

The man continued to bang his head hard, as if unafraid of pain.

Soon, his forehead was bloodied.

So ruthless to oneself, unwilling to give up on a goal, Fu Meng saw a bit of Wei Zhao’s determination in him.

When Wei Zhao stabbed him, he did so without hesitation!

Holding such a fierce resolve, Fu Meng stood up, swallowing the buns in a single gulp.

Wait!

He moved swiftly, vanishing at the prison’s entrance in an instant.

Everyone was astounded.

Soon, agonized screams came from the prison. Fu Meng returned, tossing a bloody arm before the Scholar.

The Scholar reached out, trembling.

Still warm.

Just bitten off, the fingers seemed to twitch.

He bowed his head, tasting with his tongue the dripping blood.

Each drop seemed to become blood-red in the light, falling.

The Scholar cried and laughed, his anger tumultuous, near madness.

Fu Meng stretched lazily, preparing to leave.

But the people, seeing hope, swarmed to block him, kneeling, offering whatever they had, fearlessly.

Fu Meng: !!

How bold!