Whispers of Retribution

　　The father erupted from the house, eyes wild and blood streaming down his face. 

　　But it was the large cleaver in his hand, glinting with a cold, deadly light, that truly terrified. 

　　"You dare touch my wife and child?!" he roared. "I'll carve you to pieces!"

　　Seeing his family bullied would enrage even the gentlest soul. 

　　My dad, cleaver in hand, became a whirlwind of fury. 

　　The five Zhang brothers, usually so bold, now cowered. 

　　They knew that look, that rage. 

　　They didn't doubt his deadly intent for a second. 

　　Without a word, they bolted. 

　　Dad gave chase, cleaver held high, right to the edge of our property. 

　　It was Mom, rushing out, who grabbed him, barely halting his pursuit. 

　　By then, his initial burst of adrenaline was fading, replaced by pain. 

　　He'd been badly beaten, his own blood staining the ground.

　　Mom, bless her, knew pushing him further was insanity. 

　　What if he caught them? Killed one of them in a blind fury? 

　　The consequences were unthinkable. 

　　Instead, she guided him back inside, gently tending to his wounds as best she could. 

　　It wasn't long before Grandpa arrived home with Granny Liu. 

　　The sight of our wrecked home, of Dad battered and bloodied, ignited a fire in his usually gentle eyes. 

　　Grandpa, you see, had a temper even fiercer than Dad's. 

　　Everyone knew Grandpa, the war hero, had killed before – Japanese soldiers, they whispered. 

　　He wouldn't hesitate to defend his own. 

　　He grabbed his own cleaver, ready to confront the Zhang family, but Granny Liu stopped him.

　　She'd seen the bright red handprint on my cheek, a mark of their cruelty. 

　　"Lao Wu," she said, her voice firm. "Don't go. The Zhang family will face their own misfortune, even without your hand."

　　Grandpa, confused, demanded to know what she meant. 

　　"Someone struck your grandson," Granny Liu replied, sighing. "They won't escape the consequences."

　　Grandpa's anger intensified. 

　　"Those thugs!" he thundered. "A child of six! Is this how they prove their manhood? I'll teach them some manners!"

　　"Lao Wu, listen," Granny Liu pleaded. "Going there solves nothing. The one who hit the boy… he won't see tomorrow's sun."

　　Silence fell, thick and heavy. 

　　Grandpa stared at her, bewildered. Granny Liu, ever patient, recounted the story of Ma's wife – how she'd kicked me, a mere child, a few times, and the next day, she was found dead in the mountains. 

　　"And now," she said, her voice low, "the Zhang family chose this day, the day of Little Wu Jie's three-year calamity, to cause trouble. They've walked into a den of tigers, Lao Wu."

　　It was then she explained about the celestial spirit residing within me, the protector I'd unknowingly carried since birth. 

　　The yellow weasels, the foxes that visited me… they were guardians, drawn to the spirit's power. 

　　Striking me wasn't just hitting a child; it was an act of disrespect against that unseen force, and it wouldn't go unanswered. 

　　Grandpa's face paled. 

　　This was a different kind of danger, one that sent shivers down his spine. 

　　The Zhang family might've been wrong, but death? 

　　No, that was too steep a price. 

　　He was a man of justice, not vengeance.

　　Desperately, he turned to Granny Liu. 

　　"Can anything be done?" 

　　She shook her head. "Little Wu Jie… it's in his fate. This calamity, it demands a price. Either he pays… or someone else does. The Zhang family… they tempt fate now."

　　Still, Grandpa couldn't let it go. 

　　He pressed, voice tight with worry, "So, whoever hit him… they're doomed?"

　　Granny Liu's nod was confirmation enough. 

　　When Mom confirmed it was the youngest Zhang brother, the fifth son, Grandpa fell silent, lost in thought. 

　　Finally, he spoke, his voice a plea. "Granny Liu, is there any way… to warn them? To help them?"

　　Granny Liu hesitated. 

　　She was a disciple of the divine, and interfering with the celestial's retribution… it was a risk. 

　　But Grandpa's sincerity, his kind heart in the face of this, must've touched her. 

　　"There is a way," she admitted. "But no guarantees." 

　　She told him to advise the Zhang family to unleash their fiercest guard dogs that night, the earth dogs, and to fill the fifth son's room with geese – big, protective geese, well-fed and prone to… leaving their mark. 

　　The dogs, you see, were known to repel weasels, their size a natural deterrent. And the geese… well, those were even more fearsome to the creatures of shadow and spirit. 

　　Their bites were strong, their territory fiercely guarded, and their droppings? Deadly to a weasel's touch.

　　Granny Liu hadn't wanted to reveal these secrets, but Grandpa's pleas, his inherent goodness, swayed her. 

　　Still, she couldn't promise it'd be enough.

　　That evening, Grandpa went to the Zhang house, hoping to warn them, to offer some small chance of survival. 

　　But the house was shuttered tight, the door unanswered. 

　　The fifth son was hiding, too afraid to face the consequences of his actions.

　　Grandpa tried to find his brothers, but they too were gone – some hidden, some so terrified they couldn't bear to even stay within their own homes. 

　　A few wives came out, offering apologies, but it was their husbands Grandpa needed to reach. 

　　He returned home that night, empty-handed and heavy-hearted. There was nothing more he could do. 

　　The Zhang family had made their choice, and now, it seemed, fate was making hers. 

　　The next day, dawn painted the sky with the promise of a new day, but for the youngest Zhang son, there would be no sunrise. 

　　His body was found hanging from the rafters of his own home .