Chapter 132

Luna White had just rushed toward Mrs. Martin when a sudden whoosh of wind cut through the air.

Clara Clark charged forward like a whirlwind, grabbing Mrs. Martin by the hair and slamming her to the ground before pinning her down. The sharp, crisp sound of slaps rang out—each strike so forceful it sounded like pounding mochi. Luna instinctively took two steps back. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help, but there was simply no opening for her to intervene.

Mrs. Martin’s face was already a mess, blood smeared across her nose and cheeks. She might have been skilled at making scenes in the village, but when it came to actual combat, she was no match for Clara.

Everyone in the village knew Clara was a capable woman, but few remembered she had once been honored as the county’s top female militia member—someone who had trained with rifles and bayonets.

Luna watched, stunned. Even ten Mrs. Martins tied together wouldn’t stand a chance against this kind of firepower.

"Shut your filthy mouth!" Clara snarled between strikes. "Daring to curse my family? Let the whole village hear how this old hag insulted my husband and daughter! If I don’t knock her teeth out, she’ll think the Clark family is easy to bully!"

Mrs. Martin tried to fight back, but her arms were immediately pinned again. Only now did she realize her mistake—she had just humiliated herself in front of the entire village while thoroughly offending the mayor’s family. Who would dare help her son now?

"Aiyo, she’s killing me—" Mrs. Martin wailed, only to be cut off by another brutal slap.

That finally silenced her. Her cheeks swelled grotesquely, burning with pain.

She had learned the hard way—her usual shrewish tactics only worked on those who cared about face. Against someone like Clara, throwing a tantrum was just asking for a beating.

Seeing Mrs. Martin’s disheveled, pitiful state, Luna quickly signaled to the nearby aunties. There was no way her slight frame could pull Clara away in this state.

Several women rushed forward, some wrapping their arms around Clara’s waist, others pulling at her arms, finally managing to drag her off.

Mrs. Martin, still sniffling, opened her mouth to wail again—until Luna suddenly shouted, "Hold my godmother back!"

The words died in Mrs. Martin’s throat, choking her until her eyes rolled.

"One more word, and I’ll rip your mouth apart!" Clara jabbed a finger at her, still seething.

Lily Clark quickly pulled her mother back, her heart swelling with warmth and guilt. For her sake, her usually dignified mother had lost her temper in public.

Finally, the police officer stepped in to mediate. "Enough! If you have something to say, say it properly. What kind of example is this? If someone gets seriously hurt, you’ll be paying medical bills!" His words nearly drew laughter from the crowd.

A middle-aged man stepped forward. "This bastard got my niece pregnant and then ran around with other women! I’ve got hospital records—I’m pressing charges for indecency!"

The moment Harold Martin heard "jail time," he threw himself at the man’s feet. "Uncle, I was wrong! I’ll marry Xiaozhen, I swear I’ll treat her right—"

"Get lost!" The man kicked him away. "My family’s daughter doesn’t need your concern!"

The officer yanked Harold up. "Come with me to the station."

Harold’s legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground. Mrs. Martin lunged forward to stop them, but the officer glared. "Interfere with official duties, and I’ll arrest you too!"

She immediately shrank back. Her usual hysterics wouldn’t work on the police.

And just like that, Harold was dragged away. The villagers whispered and pointed, all agreeing—he’d gotten exactly what he deserved.