Bleeding From His Hand While Counting Money

'What?

'Bled from his hand while counting money?

'??

'Shouldn't it be counting money till one's hand suffers from cramping?'

Fang Zheng was shocked. 

Something weird and creepy had been happening to the hawker stall owners these past two days. 

Some of them had blood on their hands while counting their cash, but there was no wound found on their hands and the cash was clean. 

Two stall owners had fallen victim to this incident. 

Some of the elders had claimed that the cash was stained with the blood of the dead. It was the cash of the wrongly accused. 

It must be someone who had been wrongly accused and had died with strong grievances. 

Fang Zheng's first reaction to what he heard was wondering if it was yet another creepy incident. 

This was the third one in the last five days. The frequency of it happening was sending chills down Fang Zheng's back. 

Normal people like Old Wang would not be able to do anything to defend themselves when they were met with such incidents, they could only feel terrified and fear for their lives. 

There was nowhere for them to hide. 

"Fang Zheng, do you believe that those things…exist in this world?" Old Wang grabbed his beer and took a sip from it. He was bothered. 

Old Wang was holding back. He did not say that he was talking about…ghosts. 

"See for yourself! Because of the bloodied cash, all the stall owners have been fearing for their lives. I am one of them as well. I've been afraid of the possibility of being haunted by those...things. I really hope that it was just dirt or paint on the cash and that it can be easily removed through washing. I don't care if I'm really haunted, I just don't ever want that to happen to me. It's terrifying to even think about it."

Old Wang looked over at his employees who were still cleaning the cash. 

His gaze was doubtful. 

Fang Zheng was speechless. 'Are they washing the cash with detergent and a brush? Are they doing laundry?' 

Fang Zheng asked for more details about the bloodied cash. 

However, no one really had a clue; not Old Wang nor the others. 

There were no names written on each banknote. No details of whom it belonged to, where the person lived, what his unit number was, or what his phone number was. 

"Forget it, let's not talk about it. I still have to pay for two sons and a daughter in university, and I have to save up to buy the houses and pay for their weddings when they graduate. I will never be able to leave this stall for the rest of my life. You were saying that you needed my help with something, what was it?" Old Wang looked over at Fang Zheng. 

Fang Zheng told him what he was looking for. 

Stall owners like Old Wang would definitely have their own connections. After knowing Fang Zheng's intentions, Old Wang tore a page from his ledger, picked up his ball-point pen, and wrote an address on it for Fang Zheng. 

It was to guide him to the Jufa Farmer's Market and look for a butcher named Zhang Qiwu. 

According to Old Wang, Zhang's family had been butchering and selling pork for generations. Since the Revolution occurred, Butcher Zhang's grandpa had already been butchering livestock for the Commune. 

Fang Zheng had a few more drinks with Old Wang and caught up for a bit. It was already half-past two in the morning when he left the stall. 

The night market was basically closed by then. The street was empty and chilly once again. The waning streetlight was creeping into the night along with silence. 

Fang Zheng understood that Jufa Farmer's Market usually opened at around one or two in the morning. It would be around three in the morning by the time he got there. It was unusually late for the restauranteurs, hoteliers, and stall owners who would go to the market to do their purchasing. 

With the great quality of the fruits and vegetables offered at the market, only the ones of B-grade quality were left after restauranteurs and hoteliers were done with their purchasing. 

When Fang Zheng found Butcher Zhang, he was already running his stall. As he was particular about taste and texture, Butcher Zhang was mincing the freshly-cut pork himself. 

He did not look like a butcher at all upon first glance. 

Zhang did not fit the stereotype of being as fat and large as a butcher, weighing 100 kilograms, or having arms as thick as water pails. He was only about 170cm tall—with his clean body—he seemed like a fitness trainer rather than a butcher. 

Butcher Zhang was about 30 years old. 

Rumor had it that he was still single. 

At this moment, there were a few employees of restaurants and breakfast joints lining up in front of Butcher Zhang's stall, picking out freshly-cut pork.

Fang Zheng had been waiting patiently. He politely waited till the people had completed their purchases before going up to Butcher Zhang. 

"Brother… can you let me… buy first? Mom's sick, and Grandma Xu said that eating meat could help with her recovery.

"Chenchen wants mom to recover fast. Chenchen doesn't want to see mom sad, please, Brother."

A pretty little girl stood in front of the stall at this moment. She was nervous and looked down in fear. It was as if she had done something wrong. She did not dare look up at Fang Zheng. 

Fang Zheng looked at the girl standing before him in doubt. He seemed startled. 

The girl lowered her head again and took a step back. Like a kid apologizing for a mistake, the girl went on to bow and said, "Sorry, sorry Brother. Brother you… should buy them first. Mom said that good children don't cut queues, they don't cause trouble for others."

The girl was timid. She only dared to look down at her feet. She did not look at Fang Zheng at all. 

Fang Zheng sighed. A lump formed in his throat. He had Butcher Zhang whip up his finest tenderloin, held the bag of pork in his hand, squatted down and gently patted the girl's head. He said with a gentle gaze, "Chenchen is such a good girl. You're already this responsible at your age, and you know how to take care of your mother. You're a good kid."

"Good kids deserve rewards. Here's some pork. Consider it as Brother's reward to Chenchen." 

Fang Zheng held out the bag in his hand. 

The girl's genuine, clear, and bright eyes looked at Fang Zheng excitedly. She pulled out a nicely folded ten yuan note hurriedly and said with a serious face, "Thank you, Brother! Brother, Chenchen is paying you for it."

Fang Zheng patted the girl's head empathetically and said, "Brother is giving this to Chenchen for free. Hope Chenchen's mom has a speedy recovery."

The girl shook her head and replied, "Brother, mom said Chenchen is a good girl. Good girls have to be nice, listen to their moms, and not steal. Chenchen has money." 

The girl tried her best and raised the ten yuan note in her hand. 

"Okay, okay, Chenchen can pay for brother's pork. Chenchen is so adorable. Remember: be genuine forever, be good and listen to your mom." Fang Zheng smiled. 

After seeing Fang Zheng receive her money, the girl grabbed the bag from him happily. 

"Do you need me to send you home?" Fang Zheng asked. 

"Thank you Brother, Chenchen lives nearby. There's no need to cause trouble for Brother."

The girl's eyes were genuine and clear. Her smile was sweet and genuine. She bowed before Fang Zheng and thanked him before saying goodbye to him. She tried her best to hug the bag in her arms; it was as if she was carrying the most wanted treasure in the world. She hopped away happily and disappeared into the night outside the market. 

Fang Zheng looked down at his palm.

The right hand holding the ten yuan note had blood on it; the redness of it contrasted the blazing white lights.