Chapter Ten: Punching the Second Uncle

“Idiot Tian, get out here now!”
“Idiot Tian, I’ll skin you alive!”
“Idiot Tian, today I’ll send you to see the King of Hell!”
“Idiot Tian…”

With each shout, the courtyard gate swung open and a crowd surged inside.

At the forefront were two burly, middle-aged men—one wielding a wooden stick, the other gripping a hoe. Behind them followed two young lads and several villagers. The older of the two youths was about the same age as Ding, while the younger looked to be fourteen or fifteen. Both held sticks and shovels in their hands.

As the crowd invaded the yard, the villagers formed a circle, clearly here for the spectacle. The two leading men, spotting Ding standing in the middle of the courtyard, rushed at him with their weapons raised.

Ding saw their intent—it was a fight. Hastily, he dropped the wolf he was holding and turned to face them squarely.

“What do you want?” Ding demanded.

“What do we want? To skin you alive!” The middle-aged man barked, swinging his stick.

Ding leapt aside, dodging the blow. He was about to speak when the other man swept his hoe toward him. Ding had to sidestep again.

By then, the two young lads had arrived, wasting no words as they raised their sticks and shovels, swinging at Ding.

Ding retreated swiftly, dodging their attacks. Behind him, Da Bao shouted anxiously, “Stop! Stop! Er Bao, San Bao, Xiao Jin, Xiao Yin, stop hitting!”

But the four paid no heed, yelling, “We’ll beat this idiot to death! Let’s see if you dare act stupid again!” They chased Ding around the courtyard, swinging their weapons furiously. Yet Ding was nimble; despite the dangerous scene, he managed to evade every blow.

“If you won’t stop, I’ll have to fight back!” Ding shouted angrily.

He’d just mistakenly struck an unknown elder, and was still thinking he’d been too reckless—he should refrain from hitting people so easily. But these men, coming at him with weapons and no questions, were far beyond reason.

After a while, failing to land a single hit, the four became even more furious. With so many villagers watching, four men couldn’t beat one fool—it was humiliating! Their pursuit grew more frenzied.

Seeing that words were useless, Ding’s temper flared. Whoever you are—even the emperor—I’ll fight back! If I can beat wolves, I’m not afraid of you!

The youth about his age swung a stick at Ding’s left shoulder. Ding sidestepped, then, with a swift kick, struck the youth’s face, knocking him flat—he struggled to get up.

The other youth’s shovel came crashing down. Ding dodged, kicked the youth’s wrist, sending the shovel to the ground, then delivered a flying kick to his left ribs. The youth cried out, clutching his side and collapsing.

The middle-aged man with the hoe swept it toward Ding’s head—had it connected, Ding would be dead. Ding ducked, swept his leg at the man’s knees, making him lose balance and kneel with a thud. Ding then kicked him squarely in the face, blood spurting from his nose and mouth…

The man with the stick, seeing Ding’s prowess, hesitated. As he faltered, Ding grabbed the other end of his stick and chopped his wrist. The man cried out in pain and let go. Ding tossed the stick aside, seized the man by the collar, and demanded, “Tell me, why did you come here to attack me without reason?”

The man wanted to back down but, seeing all the villagers’ eyes on him, put on a bravado. “So what if we hit you? You dare strike back?”

Bang—a punch landed on his face.

“Hey! You actually dare hit me! Try it again, see if I don’t kill you!” he shouted.

Bang—another punch.

“You fool, if you dare hit me again, I’ll sell your whole family to the mines…” After two punches, his face was already bruised.

Bang bang bang—a flurry of blows rained down. The man howled, his face swelling into a pig’s head.

Had he spoken calmly, Ding wouldn’t have beaten him so badly. But instead, he threatened Ding’s family. Ding couldn’t hold back—only a beating could vent his anger!

After the barrage, Ding’s fury subsided.

Just then, an elderly man with white hair squeezed through the crowd. Ding recognized him—it was Village Chief He, who had come to the Tian household for meat the previous night.

Village Chief He had just gotten up when he heard there was a fight at the Tian house, so he hurried over.

“Ding, how did you manage to beat your Second and Third Uncles and your two cousins like this?” Chief He sighed, looking at the four sprawled on the ground.

“Second and Third Uncles, cousins?” Ding thought, Oh no, I’ve beaten my own kin again. Now the fool’s label will never come off.

But why weren’t they staying home? Why bring their sons here to trouble me? They were asking for a beating!

Then it clicked—after Ding struck his grandfather, the old man must have been furious and called his sons to deal with his grandson. In the end, the grandson beat his uncles and cousins. What a twisted logic—Ding almost admired his own reasoning.

“Are you all alright? Can you get up?” Chief He looked over the four, feeling a pang of surprise. This fool really could fight—bare-handed against four armed men. Not bad! People say fools have strange strength, and now he believed it. No wonder Ding could kill two giant wolves!

The injuries weren’t serious. The two youths, kicked and in pain, recovered after a short rest. Second Uncle Er Bao’s face had been pummeled—swollen, bruised, and twice its original size, his eyes squeezed into slits. Third Uncle San Bao’s face was bloody, but it was just a nose injury, which soon stopped bleeding.

Chief He, seeing they could get up, asked what happened. Er Bao and San Bao only said Ding had struck their grandfather, and they came to teach him a lesson, but ended up being beaten by the fool.

What they didn’t say was that they’d heard Ding killed two wolves, ate one last night, and had one left. The old man, upon hearing this, wanted to seize the wolf, but Ding stopped him. The brothers decided to beat Ding first, then take the wolf. Lacking their father’s strength, they brought Er Bao’s sons, Xiao Jin and Xiao Yin.

Chief He asked Ding why he struck his grandfather, and Ding told the truth. Chief He pieced the story together, considering the temperaments of Old Tian and his sons, and deduced most of the situation. At its root, it was all about the wolf meat.

Yet, as village chief, he couldn’t simply award the wolf to Old Tian and the brothers—Ding had risked his life for it, and Chief He had seen Ding’s injuries himself. Moreover, Da Bao had separated from Old Tian years ago, with Chief He as witness.

But Ding had beaten people, and no matter what, hitting others was wrong—especially elders. In this era, filial piety was paramount. Still, everyone knew Ding was a fool, and fools couldn’t be held to the same standards.

After some thought, Chief He suddenly came up with a compromise.