Chapter 22: First Steps into the Cell, Madam Zhang Flexes Her Power to Seize a Bed

Mrs. Jia followed the driver, marching out of the courtyard with a grand and imposing air. Although she was internally apprehensive, she was primarily fueled by a sense of tragic heroism, believing she was making a "sacrifice for her grandson." She felt certain that after this, the residents of the courtyard would hold her in higher regard. She, Mrs. Jia, was a grandmother with true responsibility!

Upon reaching the police station, everything proceeded according to the script Chen Mo had designed. The driver explained the situation, and Mrs. Jia wept bitterly as she "confessed" to the crime, claiming it was born of jealousy and a twisted psyche—that she had simply been confused and acted impulsively. The officer in charge of the registration looked at her fat, foolish appearance and shook his head. At her age, to be doing such things—she clearly had too much time on her hands.

Because it was a "voluntary surrender" and the damaged tires were already being repaired, the station dealt with her leniently, sentencing her to fifteen days of administrative detention to be served at the district detention center. As Mrs. Jia was led into the police car and watched the street scenes receding rapidly through the window, she finally felt genuine fear. The iron bars and the cold interior of the vehicle made her feel deeply uneasy.

Soon, the car stopped in front of a grey compound with a sign that read, "District Detention Center." Mrs. Jia was escorted inside by two policewomen. After a series of procedures involving registration, searches, and changing clothes, all her personal belongings were confiscated, and she was issued a grey prison uniform. Finally, she was brought before a heavy iron door.

"Go in! Remember, reform yourself properly and don't cause any trouble!" The policewoman opened the door and pushed her impatiently. Mrs. Jia stumbled and fell into the room. The iron door clanged shut behind her, a sound that made her heart shudder.

She lifted her head to survey her "new home" for the next half-month. It was a cell of about twenty square meters, with a row of wooden platforms against the wall covered in filthy straw mats. The room was dim and permeated with a foul stench—a mixture of sweat, foot odor, and the pungent smell of a toilet. There were already seven or eight people inside. Some were chatting, some were staring blankly, and others were picking lice.

When they saw the newcomer, Mrs. Jia, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her in unison. Their gazes were filled with scrutiny, numbness, and a hint of imperceptible mockery. Mrs. Jia, accustomed to running rampant in her courtyard, had never been looked at this way. She placed her hands on her hips, puffed out her massive belly, and adopted the aggressive, shrewish demeanor she used to scold people in the neighborhood, hoping to seize the initiative.

"What are you looking at? Never seen a newcomer before?"

However, no one responded. They merely watched her quietly, as if observing a performing monkey. This disregard stung more than any verbal abuse. Mrs. Jia felt as though she had punched a pile of cotton, and she lost face. She snorted and began to inspect the room.

Her eyes quickly locked onto an ideal spot: the bunk at the very end, right by the window. That area had the best light, looked the cleanest, and even had a relatively neat old blanket spread over the mat. A woman in her forties, tall and sturdy with a faint scar on her face, was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.

She was the "big sister" of the cell, known as "Sister Blade." She had been sentenced to six months for cutting someone in a fight. Mrs. Jia, however, cared nothing for "Sister Blade" or anyone else. In her eyes, the best things should belong to her. At the Jia house, the best food was hers, the most comfortable chair was hers, and now, this prime bunk had to be hers as well.

She marched straight toward the bed and threw her thin, dirty bedding onto it. "Hey, you, get up. I’ve taken a liking to this spot; go find somewhere else." Mrs. Jia spoke in an imperious tone to the woman with her eyes closed.

The cell fell deathly silent. Everyone looked at Mrs. Jia as if she were a dead woman walking. Had this new fat woman lost her mind? Daring to snatch Sister Blade's bed?

Sister Blade slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze was calm—neither angry nor surprised—just coldly fixed on Mrs. Jia. "What did you say? I didn't hear you clearly."

"I said, get up! This spot belongs to me now!" Mrs. Jia, assuming the woman hadn't understood, repeated herself and reached out to push Sister Blade's shoulder. "Are you deaf?"

Sister Blade smiled. When she did, the scar on her face twisted like a centipede, looking rather frightening. "New here?"

"That's right, so what?" Mrs. Jia puffed out her chest.

"Don't know the rules?"

"Rules? What rules! Let me tell you, I'm a good person! I came here to take the fall for my grandson! I'm a hero! You all should be giving way to me!" Mrs. Jia tried to use her usual courtyard logic to intimidate them.

"Heh..." Sister Blade laughed even more heartily. A tall, thin woman beside her stood up, walked over to Mrs. Jia, and looked her up and down. "Tell me, fat lady, is there something wrong with your brain? Do you know where this is? Do you know who you're talking to?"

"I don't care who she is! Even if the Emperor himself came, I'm taking this bed!" Mrs. Jia stiffened her neck, her shrewish nature fully ignited.

"Oh, look at you, how bold." The tall, thin woman glanced back at Sister Blade. Sister Blade gave a slight nod. The woman turned back, the smile vanishing from her face, replaced by icy coldness. "Since you don't know the rules, sisters, we'll just have to teach you."

No sooner had she spoken than two burly women surrounded them. Seeing this, Mrs. Jia’s heart began to pound. "W-what are you doing? I'm telling you, hitting people is against the law! The police will deal with you!"

"Against the law? We're only here because we broke the law." The tall, thin woman sneered. "The police? By the time they get here, your injuries will be healed. Here, our Sister Blade *is* the law!"

With a wave of her hand, she commanded, "Sisters, loosen up this 'hero' grandma's joints!"

The two women lunged like wolves. Mrs. Jia’s one-hundred-and-seventy-pound frame was no match for these women accustomed to physical labor. She was easily hoisted into the air.

"Let go of me! Help! Murder!" Mrs. Jia began to use her signature move, wailing and screaming to the heavens. But this was not the courtyard. No one sympathized with her, and certainly no one would come to her rescue.

Sister Blade sat up slowly, walked over to Mrs. Jia, and gripped her fat chin, forcing her to look at her. "Remember, from today on, you sleep there." She pointed with her chin to the corner of the cell, right next to the primitive toilet. The floor there was damp, filthy, and reeking.

"No! I'd rather die than sleep there!" Mrs. Jia struggled.

"Is that so?" Sister Blade let go, picked up an enamel washbasin from the side, and said to the two women, "It seems this grandma is feeling a bit hot-headed. Help her cool down."

The two women understood immediately. They dragged Mrs. Jia toward the toilet. There was a large bucket of stagnant water inside, murky and floating with unidentified debris.

"What are you doing! Let me go! I was wrong! I'm sorry!" Mrs. Jia finally felt true terror and began to beg. But it was too late. The two women exchanged a grin, grabbed her by the hair, and shoved her massive head deep into the bucket.

"Gurgle... gurgle..."

Mrs. Jia felt the foul, cold water flood her nose and mouth. The sensation of suffocation made her thrash wildly, but her strength was no match for the two sturdy women. Just as she felt she was about to die, her hair was yanked, and her head was pulled from the water.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Mrs. Jia collapsed on the ground, coughing violently, spitting out the dirty water along with bits of her breakfast. She looked utterly wretched.

"Now, do you know the rules?" Sister Blade looked down at her, her voice devoid of emotion.

Mrs. Jia was soaked, with filth clinging to her hair. She looked up at the circle of cold, indifferent women, feeling a bone-chilling cold in both her body and her soul. She opened her mouth to curse, but meeting Sister Blade’s icy gaze, the words died in her throat. She could only squeeze one word through her teeth:

"...I understand."