Carrying a Jurassic on me
Chapter 931 - 507: Streetlights and the Broken Leg Incident_3

Chapter 931: Chapter 507: Streetlights and the Broken Leg Incident_3

As a result, he came back to a nagging from the woman of the house who went on about how he managed to stumble when it was dark, he never used to fall, but now that there are streetlights, he ends up taking a tumble.

That single sentence made Zhou Dalian remember why he had fallen—it was precisely because the streetlights had been installed that he had tripped!

Before, there had been no streetlights, so he had gotten used to it, no big deal. Anyway, it was just this one street that he walked down every day, so he knew exactly where each step was and where a small piece was missing from the cover over the ditch.

Sometimes when it was really dark and overcast, he would even bring a flashlight or a hand lamp to light his way home.

But now, it was precisely because there were streetlights that he had been careless. As he walked, he came to the spot where he tripped because someone had broken the streetlight there, plunging him suddenly from light into pitch darkness, and that’s how he took his fall.

Normally, a twisted ankle wouldn’t have been serious, just something to rub some ointment on. But then one night while drinking, they brought up the incident, and a little brother said: "I know who did it, it was that guy who broke the streetlight."

This guy wasn’t even from the town; he was the son of the village secretary from the village next door—so you can imagine, a guy who has nothing better to do than smash a few streetlights at night is no good. Relying on his family’s tiny bit of influence and proximity to the town, he was the embodiment of idleness and troublemaking, loafing around and wasting his days.

By coincidence, that very night, as Zhou Dalian and his group were stumbling home half-drunk, they saw that streetlight-smashing guy with a few idlers from the village, playing table tennis.

Normally, if someone came to play in his pool hall, it meant money in his pocket, and Zhou Dalian wouldn’t make an issue of it, even if he was unhappy. But now, they were all muddled with drink, and just as they were returning home, Zhou Dalian had been cursing the broken streetlight where he had fallen. The more he cursed, the angrier he got, and he was already fuming.

What happened next is easy to imagine. The group of youngsters wasn’t exactly easy to talk to; they were at the age of arrogant ignorance, always acting invincible in their village with their numbers. Zhou Dalian’s group had had a few to drink; they exchanged some words with those kids—who stood there defiant and unconvinced—and in no time, they started swinging at each other.

When it came to a fight, the guys from the village were certainly no match. After all, they were on Zhou Dalian’s turf, with fewer hands and far less experience in brawling, so they were quickly dealt with.

Normally, after the fight, if those who lost said a few soft words, the matter would be over. Thugs also follow the principle of a wise man submitting to circumstances. If they were unhappy, they could always come back for another fight later on. The right move was to get away quickly, especially since the other group was still drunk.

But these kids wouldn’t back down, cursing and refusing to accept it: "The streetlights weren’t installed by you, what’s it to you if I smash them!"

These were all uneducated hooligans, and their curses were particularly nasty. The police station was just across the street, and while they all respected the rules of jianghu, no one mentioned going to make a report. They just kept on cursing and fighting.

In the end, they were handled by a bunch of drunk thugs who didn’t know their own strength, and one of them ended up with a broken leg—that was the one who had cursed the most fiercely. He was the streetlight-smasher and the ringleader, and in front of his little brothers, he had to show his gang loyalty and play the big boss.

They made a ruckus all night, and the police station remained unaware—the weather had turned cold, and Zhou Dalian, being in business, didn’t want his patrons to complain about cold hands, so he had hung thick cotton curtains over the windows that not only insulated against the cold but also blocked out sound very effectively.

The next day, a group from the village arrived, ready to start a brawl with Zhou Dalian and his people.

This time, the police station couldn’t remain ignorant, and they managed to send everyone back home.

The village secretary was not convinced and wanted to press charges—there was no witness for the incident with the streetlights, but as for the assault, it was indeed true that Zhou Dalian had hit someone. Even if there had been evidence for the streetlight-smashing at the police station, it would just lead to a fine and a few days’ detention at most. Anyway, it wasn’t really Zhou Dalian’s problem, was it?

But now that someone had filed a complaint, it was something Zhou Dalian had to deal with, and he found himself at the police station.

The village secretary’s clan was relentless, insisting on following official procedures; no attempt at mediation would satisfy them, and they were determined to have Zhou Dalian sent to jail.

Legally speaking, a broken leg was considered a serious injury. The village secretary knew the law well, had his son stay in the hospital claiming headaches, complete loss of strength, and a fear of paralysis, and so on—whether it was true pain or feigned, no one knew, but paralysis was definitely nonsense; the kid had been cursing fiercely when they brought him in!

Everyone knew very well that the family just wanted to exaggerate Zhou Dalian’s crime and go for a more severe punishment.

Zhou Dalian had his contacts, but now with an entire village stirred up, the incident was indeed difficult for the town to handle.

In fact, the town’s people, though not considering Zhou Dalian a saint, felt that beating up the little thug was justified—the streetlights were there for the whole town, and with several smashed, a long stretch of the street was left in darkness, which irritated everyone. Especially families with students who were relieved that their children no longer needed to carry flashlights to their evening self-study sessions—thanks to this kid’s vandalism, the flashlights they had just put away had to be dug out again.

That’s why Zhou Dalian dared to ask someone to pass a message to Yan Fei, hoping Boss Yan would say a word on his behalf—if he were completely in the wrong, he wouldn’t have been able to ask, given his slight acquaintance with Yan Fei. It was because he felt his actions had some "righteousness" to them that he sought out Yan Fei in his current predicament.

Though not frequent, Sancha River town did have its share of fights that resulted in broken heads, arms, and legs every year. Usually, these matters were settled privately after a fight, with compensation paid as necessary. As long as no one died, most cases didn’t go through the police station, and the parties involved worked it out among themselves.

This time, the village secretary’s son had smashed the streetlights first, and then he ended up with a broken leg. According to the townfolks’ sense of right and wrong, the kid had it coming to him. However, the broken leg was serious enough to warrant compensation from Zhou Dalian, and that should have been sufficient.

Because this was the general consensus, Yan Fei was finally approached to intervene and have a word.

Yan Fei shared the same view as everyone else. So, upon his return, he sent someone to Zhou Dalian’s house to let him know that he would try to "mediate" the matter.