Chapter 17: Marrying a Foreigner—Isn't That Like Defiling One's Ancestral Graves?

Wang Erhu, after receiving a thorough beating from Xu Feng, was both humiliated and enraged. He lingered at the village entrance for a long while before dragging his battered body back into the village.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became—Xu Feng’s smug attitude and that cold, piercing look from the woman haunted his mind in endless replay.

"Damn it, I can’t just let this go!" Wang Erhu gritted his teeth and hatched a plan.

He dared not confront Xu Feng head-on again, but spreading rumors to ruin Xu Feng’s reputation—that he could still manage.

Thus, the tranquility of Old River Ditch Village was soon shattered.

With a vividly bruised face, Wang Erhu went about complaining to anyone who would listen, tears and snot running as he denounced Xu Feng and his “mysterious” wife.

“Ah, Brother Zhang, you have no idea! I kindly lent that kid Xu Feng my bow, and what does he do? His wife, that woman, without a word, beat me with a firewood stick until I looked like this!”

Pointing at his face, his expression oozed grievance. “I tried to reason with her, and guess what? She actually cursed me ‘baka’! That’s Japanese! I recognized it immediately!”

When he met Aunt Li Si, he changed his story: “Aunt Si, you have to be fair! That kid Xu Feng, bringing home a wife picked up from the mountains, she’s not one of our Dragon Nation people!”

“I heard her speak Japanese with my own ears! These days, you can’t judge a person by their face. Who knows if she’s a spy infiltrating our village!”

Soon the entire village was in turmoil.

The villagers had always harbored doubts about the “deaf-mute” wife Xu Feng suddenly brought home, but with Wang Erhu’s embellished rumors, speculation and gossip spread like wildfire.

“Is it true? Xu Feng’s wife is Japanese?”

“Can you trust Wang Erhu’s filthy mouth? But those injuries on his face sure don’t look fake.”

“If she really is Japanese, that’s trouble! We can’t keep such a threat in our village!”

“That kid Xu Feng’s got some nerve, bringing just anyone home!”

Widow Li was the chief instigator. Having been publicly humiliated by Xu Feng the day before, she was now gleefully spreading the news, even fabricating details—claiming she had long suspected the woman was off, her gaze eerie, footsteps silent, surely trained for some special purpose.

The atmosphere in the village grew strange.

People’s gazes toward Xu Feng’s household shifted from initial envy to suspicion, wariness, and even hostility.

As the sun dipped low, Xu Feng appeared at the village entrance carrying an astonishing haul of game, once again causing a stir.

But this time, the villagers’ reactions were markedly different from the day before.

“Look! Xu Feng’s back!”

“My heavens! He… he caught so many again?”

“This kid treats Black Bear Gully like his own backyard?”

Though there was still awe, it was accompanied by whispers and strange looks.

Those glances felt like invisible needles piercing Xu Feng. He keenly sensed the village’s uneasy mood.

Some villagers who usually greeted him warmly now kept their distance, hesitant to speak, eyes darting nervously.

“Fengzi, that’s quite the catch,” a bolder man forced a smile as he approached, his eyes flicking behind Xu Feng as if searching for something.

Xu Feng set down his prey with a heavy thud that made the ground tremble.

Clapping his hands, his gaze calmly swept over the crowd and he smiled faintly, “Just lucky.”

His casual demeanor only deepened the mystery in everyone’s eyes.

“Xu Feng,” an elderly man with a cane shuffled forward hesitantly, “there’s been some talk in the village… I don’t know if you’ve heard?”

Xu Feng knew exactly what was coming. Pretending ignorance, he asked, “Oh? What talk? I haven’t heard a thing.”

The old man sighed, glanced around at the villagers, and lowered his voice. “Some say… your wife… she’s… Japanese.”

At those words, silence fell. All eyes fixed on Xu Feng, awaiting his reply.

His smile remained, but a flicker of coldness passed through his eyes.

He knew it was Wang Erhu stirring trouble behind his back.

Without rushing to refute, he slowly pulled out a cheap cigarette from his pocket, placed it between his lips, lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled a ring of smoke.

“Japanese?” He laughed as if hearing the world’s biggest joke. “Old Zhang, you’ve watched me grow up. Don’t you know who Xu Feng is? Would I bring home a Japanese wife?”

His laugh was like a bucket of cold water dousing the villagers’ heated whispers.

He scanned the crowd, taking in every suspicious, hostile, or curious gaze. He didn’t rush to explain but crushed the cigarette under his shoe with deliberate calm—a kind of composure no one could quite gauge.

“Old Zhang, you’re respected here. Tell me, I lost my parents young and have struggled outside for years. Finally, I come back in one piece—am I a fool?”

His voice was soft but clear enough for all to hear.

Old Zhang was momentarily taken aback and shook his head instinctively. “No, you’ve always been sharp.”

“Then isn’t that settled?” Xu Feng slapped his thigh and suddenly locked eyes with several young men close to Wang Erhu, his gaze sharp as a knife.

“I’m no fool. I know full well the blood feud we have with the Japanese. My uncle, my third brother, many kin died at their hands!”

“Even if I’ve lived a rough life outside, I wouldn’t do something as stupid as taking a Japanese woman as my wife! That’s like pouring filth on my family’s ancestral grave!”

His words struck hard, tinged with sorrow and indignation. Many of the older villagers felt it deeply and silently nodded in agreement.

Who didn’t have old grudges? Who hadn’t lost family in those dark times?

“Where did these rumors come from?” Xu Feng asked, feigning ignorance but with a chilling gaze.

“It… it was Wang Erhu,” someone murmured from the crowd.

“Wang Erhu?” Xu Feng laughed again, this time with biting mockery and disdain.

“Do you not know what kind of scoundrel Wang Erhu is? Thief, womanizer—there’s no dirt in this village he’s not been part of. Can that mouth of his spit anything but filth?”

His blunt truth resonated. The villagers exchanged looks, many showing signs of agreement.

Indeed, Wang Erhu’s reputation in the village was utterly rotten.