Transmigration: Flirted with My Childhood Sweetheart
Chapter 487 - 486: They Have No Heart... No, It’s the Brain

Chapter 487: Chapter 486: They Have No Heart... No, It’s the Brain

Chu River Han Border has set the stage, and conflict is on the verge of explosion.

"Comrade, Chen Daya is just an ordinary worker in our food factory, her personal actions should not affect the food factory..."

"Oh, you mean to say, your food factory never cares about the workers’ ideological issues? Even if she was a murderer, you wouldn’t care?"

"Of course that’s not what I meant. What I mean is, we shouldn’t let a worker’s personal affairs affect our normal work..."

"How did we affect your work? We didn’t even enter your factory gates. You’re falsely accusing us, did you instigate Chen Daya?"

"How could that be possible? I’ve never even met her..."

"You are the Factory Director, and you’re saying you’ve never seen your factory’s workers, just collecting salary without working, do you even know which way the factory gates open?"

"..."

Cold sweat covered the Factory Director’s forehead.

He had never encountered someone who could digress so destructively in every sentence!

He felt that whatever he said now would be wrong. Since that’s the case—the Factory Director’s eyes flickered slightly, he decided to keep quiet for now, they had already called the police station before coming out, it would be better once Public Security arrived...

The Factory Director thought silence could save him, little did he know that sometimes, silence is the grave.

"Upper beam not straight, lower beam crooked, no wonder Chen Daya, bolstered by her brother being a workshop director, dared to make demands."

"In our Steel factory, the union leaders would have visited her home for a criticism session the first time she hit a child!"

"What was that saying again? ’Today she dares to break her own child’s arm, tomorrow she might twist another’s child’s neck!’ I think this saying is most logical, older people always say ’steal a needle when young, and steal gold when grown.’ If we don’t handle this now, who knows how many people she might kill in the future!"

In a dark alley outside the food factory gate, three figures squeezed together.

"Lady, where did you find this young fellow? He is truly a... genius at causing trouble!" Sie Yufei smacked his lips, looking admiringly at the young guy with the megaphone leading the group.

Lin Nianhe chewed on peanut candy, stealthily responding during a busy moment: "Comes with the trade."

Sie Yufei: "...?"

Wen Lan curled her lip, glancing sideways at Sie Yufei: "You melon, Hezi wrote five pages of script for that boy, everything he just said was memorized hard overnight."

Sie Yufei: "...!"

Wen Lan watched Sie Yufei’s shocked face, raised her eyebrows at him, supremely smug.

Sie Yufei swallowed spit, quietly moved two steps aside, afraid of crowding the young lady of the Lin Family.

After a brief smug moment, Wen Lan voiced her confusion: "Hezi, why didn’t these people make trouble before, and now they are so united?"

"In a collective, no one’s personal interest can outweigh the collective interest;"

"But if personal interest is elevated to collective interest, then the collective will fight for the individual."

"Indeed, they are protecting Xiaoxiao, but not for Xiaoxiao’s sake—they just want to completely crush the person they loathed deeply before and who might harm their children in the future. They are maintaining themselves in the guise of protecting Xiaoxiao, having the same interests, they briefly form a collective."

Lin Nianhe’s eyes were cool, watching the standoff before him, his heart calm and undisturbed.

Wen Lan and Sie Yufei looked befuddled, they stared at Lin Nianhe with untainted eyes free from the corrupting influence of knowledge, and after a long while, their clear eyes met.

Sie Yufei: "Sister Lan, hungry?"

Wen Lan: "Hungry!"

"Let’s go, let’s eat! I have manuscript fees, I’ll treat you."

Lin Nianhe: "..."

They don’t have hearts... no, they don’t have brains.

The drama outside the food factory continued.

The Factory Director voluntarily gave up the only chance for a harmonious dialogue, and when he wanted to speak up to stop the chaos again, the protesting people no longer paid him any heed.

Not only did they ignore him, but they also unilaterally "sentenced" him—from death penalty upwards, with no limit.

The Factory Director started to doubt himself, had he really committed atrocious deeds? With hundreds of workers in the factory, how could he possibly know everyone’s situation? Besides, workers’ ideological issues really aren’t his responsibility... should he be responsible for this? Or had he really neglected his duties...

The Factory Director’s head was buzzing, standing at the door, unable to speak for a moment.

Just then, Chen Dabao, carrying a bone cleaver from the slaughterhouse, charged out.

"Damn! Dare to curse me, do you all not want to live anymore!"

Chen Dabao’s eyes were bloodshot, swinging the cleaver and rushing towards the unarmed crowd.

"Ah—"

"Ah!"

The crowd’s screams and Chen Dabao’s shrieks rose simultaneously.

As the protestors were just about to scatter, they saw Chen Dabao fall to the ground like a burst sack.

A dagger was stuck in his thigh, the blade fully embedded in the flesh, blood flowing profusely down the groove, quickly staining the ground red.

At this moment, the Public Security officers also arrived on bicycles, shouting to stop the conflict as they raced over.

"Public Security, Public Security! He’s trying to kill someone!"

"He’s trying to kill someone! He’s trying to kill someone!"

"That’s Chen Dabao!"

Amid the clamorous noise, the Public Security officers looked at the only injured person on the scene, falling into contemplation.

That day at the hospital, the senior Public Security officer kicked the cleaver away, furrowed his brows and squatted in front of Chen Dabao, carefully examining the dagger.

"This is... military-grade..."

He frowned, his instincts telling him this matter was troublesome.

As he was conflicating, Lin Nianhe slowly walked out.

She smiled softly, pulling out a work badge from her pocket: "Comrade, nice to meet you again."

"Huh? It’s you?"

"Let me reintroduce myself," Lin Nianhe opened the badge she used for the first time, "Foreign Trade Department, Lin Nianhe."

This work badge was specially issued to her by Minister Huang, worried that her foreign language skills would be criticized—the job title on it was vaguely stated as a special investigative officer.

The Public Security officer could not understand why an educated youth had again become a special envoy for the Foreign Trade Department. He examined the military coat on Lin Nianhe, and then glanced at the dagger on Chen Dabao’s leg.

"Oh, this is mine. He was about to attack the protesting comrades, and I was far away, so I just threw it."

Lin Nianhe spoke frankly, then apologetically smiled at Chen Dabao: "Sorry, I didn’t expect to throw it so accurately."

Chen Dabao: "..."

She shouldn’t be feeling guilty, right?

Lin Nianhe stared at Chen Dabao and asked: "You don’t need this, do you?"

Chen Dabao: "...?"

What, what don’t I need?

"Oh, you’re in so much pain you can’t speak, then I’ll take your silence as consent."

Without giving the Public Security officers time to react, Lin Nianhe directly bent down and pulled the dagger out of Chen Dabao’s thigh.

Blood sprayed out.

Chen Dabao screamed again in pain: "Ah! Ah! Why the hell did you pull out the dagger!"

"Huh? You want to keep it? Then I’ll just borrow it a bit longer."

Lin Nianhe loosened her grip, and the dagger fell back into Chen Dabao’s leg, creating a new blood hole.

Chen Dabao: "..."

Seeing the cunningly smiling, fair-skinned girl in front of him, Chen Dabao’s vision darkened, and he fainted.