The carefree life of Yang Shuisheng, the village miracle doctor

Yang Shuisheng's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately turned to look in the direction of the counter the person had just gone to.

The place was completely empty; there wasn't a soul in sight.

He rushed to the store entrance and looked around at both sides of the street.

The street was bustling with people. The person who bumped into him was wearing an ordinary gray cloth jacket and had long since disappeared into some corner of the crowd.

"Hey young man, what are you doing?"

When the lumber shop owner saw him suddenly rush to the door and look around without paying, he thought Yang Shuisheng was trying to run away, so he quickly put down his work and chased after him, grabbing Yang Shuisheng's arm.

"You don't want the stuff anymore? You haven't paid yet!"

Yang Shuisheng shook off his hand and hurriedly pulled out the last bit of change from his pants pocket.

I counted it, and there were only a few cents, not even enough for one dollar and forty cents.

"Boss, my money...it was stolen from your shop just now!"

His face darkened as he said to the shop owner, "Over a thousand yuan, all gone!"

"Look, there's only this little bit left..."

The shopkeeper took the few cents, then looked Yang Shuisheng up and down, his brows furrowing instantly, his face showing clear disbelief and a hint of disdain: "The money was stolen? More than a thousand yuan?"

"Young man, you're so young, how come you've already learned this trick?"

"If you don't have money, you don't have money. Why complain about being robbed? Aren't you ashamed?"

"This isn't a charity!"

"It really was stolen! It was the person who bumped into me just now!" Yang Shuisheng hurriedly explained, but without proof, the other party was not convinced.

"Forget it, forget it, you can go now. Put the hoe down, I'm not selling it anymore." The shopkeeper waved his hand impatiently and reached for the hoe in Yang Shuisheng's hand.

He concluded that Yang Shuisheng was trying to renege on his debt because he had no money.

"Hey, isn't this Shui Sheng?"

Just as the two were struggling, a voice came from the side: "What are you doing here?"

Yang Shuisheng turned his head and saw that it was Yu Jianzheng, the village chief, walking over from the street with his hands behind his back, probably there to take care of something.

Now that Yang Shuisheng had achieved some success in his cultivation, he was confident and no longer needed to pretend to be stupid like before. He simply said, "Director Yu, I've come to buy a hoe handle."

Yu Jian moved closer and looked Yang Shuisheng more closely, his eyes filled with surprise: "Hey, Qianwei was right, you're not stupid after all?"

"Hmm, he looks much more energetic." He then looked at the boss, "What's wrong with Old Chen? What's all the commotion about?"

"Director Yu, you've come at the perfect time."

When Old Chen, the timber shop owner, saw that it was the village head of Taohua'ao, his attitude softened a bit, but his tone still carried dissatisfaction: "Is this kid from your village?"

"He came to my shop to get a hoe handle made. After he picked it out and had it assembled, I asked him for the money. He said that more than a thousand yuan of his money had been stolen from my shop."

"Director Yu, do you believe it?"

"If he had that thousand-plus yuan, would he still dress like this?"

"I think they just want to cheat me out of this money."

Upon hearing this, Yu Jian frowned and looked at Yang Shuisheng, his tone reproachful and lecturing: "Shuisheng, it's a good thing you're not stupid anymore."

"One should be honest and straightforward, and not learn those tricks of deception and making empty promises."

"Just say you don't have money. Making up lies like this will make people look down on you."

Yang Shuisheng was seething with anger, but he knew that nothing he said would make a difference.

"Director Yu, my money really was stolen." He took a deep breath and said to Yu Jian, "If you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do."

Looking at Yang Shuisheng's calm but firm eyes, Yu Jian felt a little uneasy.

This kid used to be stupid, but now his eyes are clear and he speaks logically; he doesn't seem like someone who talks nonsense.

It's outrageous that over a thousand yuan was stolen.

He hesitated for a moment, then waved his hand: "Alright, alright, Old Chen, how much did you pay for this hoe handle? I'll pay for it."

"Not much, one dollar and forty cents!" Old Chen immediately counted out the amount.

"Shuisheng, consider this money a loan. Remember to pay me back when you have the money."

As he spoke, he took out one yuan and fifty cents from his pocket and handed it to Old Chen.

He gave Old Chen an extra cent as a gesture of respect.

Old Chen took the money, his expression softening slightly. He muttered, "Director Yu is indeed reasonable."

"Take it, take it!"

He shoved the hoe back into Yang Shuisheng's hand.

"Thank you, Director Yu."

Yang Shuisheng took the hoe and nodded to Yu Jian: "I will definitely pay you back this money."

Yu Jian hummed in agreement.

"Director Yu, what brings you here...?"

"Oh, I'm here to rent some tables and chairs. We'll have a lot of guests at home tomorrow, and our own won't be enough," Yu Jian said, pointing to a larger general store across the street. "I just came out from there after negotiating."

"By the way, I'm taking a tractor that carries tables and chairs back later. Do you want to come along? I can give you a ride."

"No, Director Yu, you can go back now."

Yang Shuisheng shook his head, his gaze sweeping over the bustling crowd on the street, his voice turning cold: "I still need to find the bastard who stole my money."

After saying that, he picked up his hoe, turned around, and quickly left the lumber shop, rejoining the crowd.

Yu Jian watched his retreating figure, opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately shook his head.

I think Yang Shuisheng's idea is just wishful thinking.

With so many people in town, where can you even look for a thief?

And it's not even certain whether he was actually robbed.

Little did they know, Yang Shuisheng had indeed had his money stolen.

He wandered around the nearby streets and alleys for more than ten minutes, his sharp eyes scanning the faces and clothes of every pedestrian.

But there are too many people in town during the day. The thief would have run far away after stealing the money. How could we find him?

Yang Shuisheng stopped and thought for a moment, then an idea immediately came to him.

Bumping around aimlessly like a headless fly wouldn't solve anything, so he simply picked up his hoe and strode towards the Yuelai Teahouse.

Wang Kun was the local tyrant of Daliang Town. He knew many people from all walks of life and knew the petty thieves in town better than anyone else.

Asking him for help is better than searching blindly on your own.

……

At the same time that Yang Shuisheng was on his way to Yuelai Teahouse.

Across from the teahouse, in a shop with a sign that reads "Zhou's Dried Goods," a completely different scene unfolds.

The shop was dimly lit and displayed dried goods such as shiitake mushrooms, wood ear mushrooms, red dates, and peanuts.

Behind the counter, a middle-aged, overweight man with a cigarette dangling from his lips and squinting eyes was fiddling with an abacus.

"Boss Zhou! Quick, open the door!"

A man in a gray cloth jacket came in, rubbing his hands together, and urged him urgently in a low voice.

"Open the door? Open what door?"

The fat man, known as Boss Zhou, raised his eyelids, glanced at him, snorted a puff of smoke from his nostrils, and said slowly, "Ma San, you still owe me two hundred yuan in gambling debts."

"You said you'd pay me back in three days, and a whole week has passed! Where's the money?"

The other party wasn't annoyed at all; instead, they chuckled.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of banknotes.

It was that thousand-plus yuan that was stolen from Yang Shuisheng!

He deftly pulled out two bills, slapped them on the counter, raised his chin, and said smugly, "Here, two hundred! Counted it carefully!"

"Now we're even, with interest! Can we open the door now?"

When Boss Zhou looked at the two crisp, brand-new ten-yuan bills on the counter, and then at the thick stack of bills still in Ma San's hand, his eyes widened instantly, and he almost dropped the cigarette he was holding.

"Well done, Ma San, haven't seen you for a few days, you've made something of yourself?"

"That was a pretty big job, wasn't it?"

Boss Zhou lowered his voice, his words carrying a hidden meaning.

He knew exactly what Ma San did for a living; he usually just stole a few coins. But what he did today was no small matter.

Ma San proudly waved the remaining money in his hand, unable to hide his excitement: "Hehe, luck, luck!"

"I ran into a hothead today, and he was really fat."

"Enough talk, open the door! I'm on a winning streak today, I'm going to dominate!"

Boss Zhou didn't press the matter further; money talks.

He quickly collected the money, turned around and walked behind the dry goods shelf, pressing a few buttons on a seemingly ordinary wall.

With a soft "click," the wall slid open inward, revealing a hidden door just wide enough for one person to pass through. From inside, one could faintly hear noisy voices and smell the scent of tobacco.

Ma San couldn't wait and squeezed in sideways.