Chapter 179: Chapter 162: Wait, We Were Mediating Peacefully—Why Are You Taking Off Your Clothes?

The destined judgment did not arrive as promised.

Ning An grabbed that judgment pen, even though Wang Sheng’s face flushed red, he couldn’t snatch it back.

The middle-aged woman who had closed her eyes suddenly opened them, staring at Ning An in a daze.

No one cared why she acted like this, why she said what she did; her previous suffering seemed insignificant to everyone.

Everyone was waiting for the moment of paternal love and filial piety, thinking they had contributed to the righteous path of life.

Her eyes blurred, and tears flowed uncontrollably.

Ning An held onto the judgment pen but couldn’t grasp the snowflakes before an avalanche.

Especially the mediation group that came with the elderly, the aunts and women were united in their indignation.

"What’s there to feel aggrieved about? What grievance could she possibly have?!"

"Little Daoist, you can’t interfere in our mediation process just because she is a woman. Think about it, she doesn’t even care about her own father; what kind of good person could she be?"

"What kind of hatred or resentment could make an eighty-plus-year-old father so humiliated? All those years of schooling wasted."

"Little Daoist, let go. Don’t interfere with our mediation process."

"Exactly, how can you interfere with the mediator’s judgment decree? That’s illegal behavior!"

The noise from the aunts and women was loud, especially after heightening one’s sensory sensitivity, making it sound louder than drumming and commotion.

Ning An didn’t turn his head, only holding onto that pen, he calmly said, "Since it’s mediation, let both sides speak. Letting only one person speak, what kind of mediation is that?"

Wang Sheng got anxious, rushing out to snatch the pen, shouting loudly, "Who’s not letting her speak? She herself doesn’t speak and blames others. We know the situation very well, there’s nothing hidden here, don’t act like a saint here."

His face was sweating. Despite using all his strength, he could not sway the pen even a little.

Instead, it was Ning An who quietly looked at him, disdainfully saying, "You all barged into my Daoist Temple during this moment, playing this so-called family reunion drama just hoping to leverage the enormous traffic from my livestream to make this a solid fact."

"If it’s a good thing, I certainly have no objections and would even gladly accept it, but now you talk about morality and righteousness, acting as if we Dragon Country have produced a new saint?"

The truth proved that no one could withstand Ning An’s aura, not even the mediator.

Seeing Wang Sheng’s evasive eyes, Ning An calmly said, "If you want to fix things, let people speak. Use me as a tool. Do you think my Changchun Temple is made of paper?"

Ning An’s gaze was sharp as a knife, inducing anger without showing it. Suddenly, Wang Sheng felt as if he was being watched by a deity, making him feel chills down his back.

He forced himself to stay calm, patted the elderly man, secretly signaling him, and the elderly man got the hint and began crying again.

"My dear daughter, I’m sorry. Our family really couldn’t afford to raise you back then, which is why we sent you away."

"I just hoped you could find a good family, leave behind those tough days. At least... at least you wouldn’t starve."

Wiping his tears, overcome with emotion, he gestured vigorously.

The incense burners who had regained some sanity were now jeering continuously, gossiping more and more.

"Ms. Wang, we understand your past very well. Because your biological father was poor, he tearfully sent you away, pained and heartbroken."

"Now, he really cannot care for himself, which is why he seeks you for support. When he found us, he was very self-reproachful, very guilty, thinking he was troubling you. But I don’t think it should be like this."

The reporter passionately exclaimed, "Kinship cannot be severed by time and space. The blood ties within are unbreakable."

"Everyone here agrees with this sentiment, right?"

The crowd cheered, everyone was excited, ready to witness this so-called correct and just moment.

Not just the middle-aged woman, even Ning An, at the center of the stage, felt dizzy.

The middle-aged woman looked around, lips curling and falling, like the ebb and flow of tides.

She silently opened her mouth, not knowing what to say, but she smiled brightly, and suddenly, her long robe fell off.

Clearly, it was midsummer and the sun was scorching, but everyone who looked at her, their enthusiasm was suddenly covered by ice and snow.

After the long robe came off, there was a short sleeve underneath, and after that was removed, besides a small vest, her upper body was nearly completely exposed.

No snow-white skin, no softness or smoothness like tofu, only scars left by frostbite appeared.

Although the frostbite had long healed, the scars could not fade, and just a glance seemed shocking.

In the silence, the middle-aged woman calmly put her clothes back on.

"I think you all might have misunderstood; he is not my father."

Before Wang Sheng could speak against it, the middle-aged woman’s tone suddenly rose, not giving him a chance to continue.

"My father didn’t throw me without even a bit of clothing in the middle of winter next to the village garbage heap."

"When my father found me, I was completely blue and purple, barely breathing."

At this moment, her expression was extraordinarily calm.

"It was said that my biological parents lived in the neighboring village, but from childhood to growing up and even going to college, I’ve never seen anyone come to visit."

The surrounding audience began to fall silent, the previous noise vanished, replaced by heavy breathing.

"Sir, I wish you were my father. How I wish my father sent me away out of poverty, and when sending me away, he tearfully covered me with a thin blanket."

"But you aren’t. My heartless father couldn’t shed tears, couldn’t plead again and again, even kneel. He wouldn’t be as sentimental as you."

"Sir, you are impeccable, absolutely impossible to be my biological father..."

Before the reporter could interrupt again, the middle-aged woman looked at the elderly man with disgust piling in her eyes, and said word by word:

"Sir, do you know why you couldn’t possibly be my father?"

"Because my biological father is a complete scoundrel."

"The place I come from is poor and remote. Prosperity isn’t even a dream; even ambition is a luxury. Mahjong and gambling are seen as the most direct way to get rich."

"Naturally, my biological father was no exception, but he had a bad habit of getting excited over card games. When I found out I was wagered to an almost toothless old bachelor in the village, my first reaction wasn’t sadness, but curiosity."

"Curious about what? Naturally, about how long it took for him to bet away his daughter."

"Obviously, I had some weight in his heart, not a fleeting moment, not a minute but a full fourteen minutes before he bet me to that old man."

"Sir, you see, my biological father was that atrocious. How could you be my biological father?"