Lucky Golden Dragon in the 80s: My Dad? I Switched Him for a Better One

Chapter 160: The Virtuous Are Protected by Heaven

Lucky Golden Dragon in the 80s: My Dad? I Switched Him for a Better One

Chapter 160: The Virtuous Are Protected by Heaven

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Chapter 160: Chapter 160: The Virtuous Are Protected by Heaven

The man refused to listen to any explanation.

"No! Get that girl out here right now. Someone outside is gravely ill and needs her to take a look."

Before the words were even out of his mouth, the man lunged forward and grabbed Ling Zhiwei by the collar.

He was so strong that he dragged Ling Zhiwei right out of the corner.

A bundle rolled to the ground, spilling straw and revealing Shanshan’s clothes.

There was no hiding it now.

News traveled fast.

Within minutes, the entire village was in an uproar over Shanshan’s escape.

People poured out of their homes.

They quickly turned on Ling Zhiwei, surrounding him and demanding answers.

Several burly men pinned him to the ground, their eyes locked on him.

But Ling Zhiwei clenched his jaw and refused to utter a single word.

He clung to a sliver of hope, thinking, ’No matter how vicious they are, they wouldn’t dare to actually do anything to me.’

But he was wrong.

Today, he would learn just how black a human heart could be. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Seeing that he wouldn’t talk, they actually began to beat him, unleashing a torrent of fists, kicks, and clubs.

In that moment, Ling Zhiwei suddenly understood the old stories his grandfather used to tell him as a child.

The pain grew dull, and his consciousness began to fade.

His vision grayed at the edges, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

Perhaps he was thinking of the unyielding heroes from his grandfather’s stories, or perhaps he just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his sister unprotected.

He stubbornly refused to make a sound, enduring it all.

Seeing him go limp and lifeless, the men assumed he was done for.

After a few hushed words, they decided to leave no trace.

They would just carry him into the mountains and dump him to avoid any trouble.

That part of the mountain was an untamed wilderness, with no paths or landmarks, and teeming with wild beasts.

Someone as gravely injured and unconscious as him wouldn’t last until midnight before being torn to shreds and devoured.

The cold wind cut through his tattered clothes, and his body heat slowly leached away.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he heard a rustling sound in the distance.

Just as he was becoming delirious, certain he wouldn’t live to see the dawn, a hand gently touched his forehead.

It was warm and rough with calluses.

It was a young man from the village—the one nicknamed "the Devoted"—who found him and saved his life.

The man knelt, felt for a pulse in his neck, and finding one, bent down to help him up. He then hoisted Ling Zhiwei over his shoulder and started down a secluded path.

"Your sister saved my wife and my child. I owe her my life. I’m repaying half of that debt to you, and I’ll have my son repay the other half in the future."

As he muttered, he chewed some unknown leaves into a pulp and haphazardly smeared the paste onto Ling Zhiwei’s wounds.

Thankfully, Ling Zhiwei was completely oblivious.

If he’d been conscious, he would have leaped up and frantically scraped off the green goo slathered all over his body.

While he remained unconscious, the paste on his body gradually dried, its color shifting from a vibrant emerald to a dull, grayish green.

Time ticked by. A cool mountain breeze rustled the branches.

The silence was occasionally broken by the distant call of a bird.

Somehow, they made it through to the next day.

Shanshan, having received a message from the small animals in the forest, rushed to find them.

The moment she saw the figure on the stretcher, she broke into a sprint, running right up to him.

Ling Zhiwei’s face was as pale as paper. There were several deep lacerations on his arms, and his pant leg had been torn open.

Seeing her brother covered in wounds, she didn’t hesitate, using all three of her available Spells on him at once.

A faint ripple of Spiritual Power filled the air for a moment before vanishing without a trace.

She had managed to pull him back from the brink of death.

Ling Zhiwei’s breathing gradually evened out, and some color returned to his pale face.

Though still weak, his life was no longer in danger.

Shanshan collapsed to the ground, leaning against a tree trunk and panting heavily, her arms trembling slightly.

The surrounding small animals fell silent.

When Ling Anxun arrived on the mountain with his men, he immediately organized the effort to save his son.

He scanned the scene as soon as he arrived, his brow furrowed.

His well-trained entourage moved quickly, setting up a temporary first-aid station, preparing a clean stretcher, and taking Ling Zhiwei’s temperature and blood pressure.

When someone moved to clean the green goo off Ling Zhiwei’s body, Ling Anxun stopped them with a single glance.

As the stretcher was being carried down the mountain, the young man who had saved Ling Zhiwei silently slipped behind a tree and disappeared.

No one noticed when he left, nor did anyone go after him to ask for his name.

Only Shanshan seemed to sense something as she turned, glancing back for a moment.

By now, Ling Zhiwei had opened his eyes. He weakly leaned toward his sister’s ear and muttered a few words.

Shanshan squeezed his hand and nodded gently to show she understood.

"Don’t worry, Fourth Brother. I understand."

She tuned out the surrounding noise, her attention focused entirely on her brother’s condition.

Then she ran up to Ling Anxun.

"Dad, the one who saved Fourth Brother was a villager. Don’t investigate the wrong person, and please don’t hurt him."

Ling Anxun looked down at her, then nodded after a moment.

’If she says so,’ he thought, ’she must have a good reason.’

Reassured that her benefactor would not be harmed, she followed the group toward the hospital.

She was quiet on the way, merely clutching a small cloth pouch that held a few freshly picked herbs.

Every so often, she would glance back toward the mountain forest, her gaze distant.

The sunlight on her face cast a soft halo.

When Jing Shu Cui saw her son on the stretcher—a bloody, mangled mess—her knees gave out and she nearly collapsed.

She wanted to rush to his side but was afraid to touch him. She could only stagger closer, weeping and muttering his name.

A nurse hurried over to support her, but she shook the nurse off, determined to walk to the stretcher on her own.

Her trembling fingers gently caressed Ling Zhiwei’s cheek.

She flinched when she touched the dried green goo but didn’t ask what it was.

Only the seasoned Ding Qin remained composed.

She took hold of her third daughter-in-law, her own posture ramrod straight as if to lend her strength.

"Shu Cui, don’t panic. The heavens watch over good people like Little Four. The whole family is here. He’s not going to die!"

Then she added, "The doctors will be here any minute. We have to be strong, to show the children that we can endure this."

The other relatives nodded in agreement, chiming in with their own words of comfort.

They accompanied him all the way to the doors of the operating room, where the entire family waited, hardly daring to breathe.

Chairs were lined up in a row, but no one was willing to sit.

They looked up expectantly every time a member of the medical staff walked past.

Ding Qin took Shanshan’s hand and asked softly, "Sweetheart, come, tell Grandma what happened up on that mountain."

Shanshan briefly explained the events.

When they heard that Ling Zhiwei had been rescued by the family of someone Shanshan herself had once saved,

Jing Shu Cui threw her arms around Shanshan, her face wet with tears as she choked out her thanks.

"You’re our family’s lucky star! You’re the one who saved your Fourth Brother..."

"It’s all thanks to you, Shanshan. If it weren’t for you, this time your Fourth Brother really would have..."

Her voice caught in her throat, and she couldn’t go on.

Shanshan explained how she had checked his pulse, reassuring them again and again that none of his injuries were critical.

They waited until Ling Zhiwei was wheeled out of the operating room.

The doctor pulled off his mask, his tone light.

"The injuries were all superficial. We’ve cleaned them up. He’ll have some scars, but there’s nothing else to worry about."

As his words settled, the family’s taut nerves finally unwound.

The suffocating tension in the air seemed to dissipate.

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