Transmigrated as the Villain Boss's Precious Darling

Chapter 462: Chapter 462: Public Clamor Melts Metal

Having received praise and encouragement, Rosalind Green’s eyes grew brighter, and her spirits instantly lifted. She was no longer afraid of the pool of blood on the ground and even felt a hint of regret. ’I should have swung harder just now,’ she thought. ’Wouldn’t that have been a bigger deterrent?’

"Hiss..."

The old man groaned, a hand on his lower back. The hoodlum had pushed him, and he’d fallen and hurt his back.

"Are you all right? Let me help you back to lie down," Rosalind Green said, looking at the old man with concern.

"I’m fine. I just need to lie down for a bit. I’ll go back to my room now."

The old man limped away. He figured he’d just have Adrian Hawthorne give him a therapeutic massage when he returned.

Rosalind Green, however, couldn’t sleep. She was buzzing with excitement now, and the pool of blood on the floor no longer seemed so frightening. Images of the hoodlum’s wretched state and the sound of his wails flashed through her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile.

’So those troublemakers aren’t so brave after all,’ she mused. ’He crumbled after just one swing.’

’I should have kept my eyes open, then I could have gotten in a few more swings.’ Rosalind Green picked up the wood chopper from the floor, gripped it tightly, and swung it in different directions several times. When her arm began to ache, she finally put the chopper down and fetched some water to wash the blood off the ground.

Dollar followed her everywhere she went, trotting in and out of the house with his tail wagging excitedly. Rosalind Green stroked his head and whispered, "Thank you for today. I’ll make you some braised meat tomorrow, how does that sound?"

WHINE...

Dollar’s eyes lit up in a flash. He tilted his head, nuzzled against Rosalind Green’s hand a few times, and then started licking it. His soft, warm, pink tongue left her hand completely covered in slobber.

"You get so happy just at the promise of meat."

Rosalind Green teased Dollar for a little while longer, and after washing the floor clean, she finally went back to her room to sleep. Phoebe Huxley was already snoring up a storm, sprawled on her back and taking up most of the bed. Rosalind Green smiled, curled up in her corner of the bed, and drifted off to sleep.

The next day, the villagers were already eagerly gossiping about the screams from the Hawthorne family’s house the night before. Some had heard Dollar barking, but no one had wanted to get involved. The Hawthornes weren’t their family, so it wasn’t worth the risk of offending the local troublemakers.

Besides, some were just hoping for some drama, curious to see if that vixen Rosalind Green could actually hold out. Many were convinced she couldn’t. They figured the only reason she hadn’t given in to other men before was because her son was around, and she’d been too embarrassed.

Now that her son was away, they thought Rosalind Green might just feign resistance before giving in to those troublemakers.

But it wasn’t long before they heard the troublemakers’ agonized screams. Everyone was dying of curiosity, wondering what had happened. They were ninety percent sure the men had failed to take advantage of her; otherwise, they would have heard cries of pleasure, not pain.

With the fabric scraps all sewn, Phoebe Huxley went back to her regular fieldwork. She had to earn the big money, but she couldn’t ignore the small change, either. After all, she had to support four university students.

The rice in the paddies had turned a yellowish-green. In a month at most, it would be time for the double-rush season. There wasn’t much work in the fields at the moment, so the villagers worked lackadaisically, chatting as they toiled. Preston Thorne saw this but didn’t intervene. The hellish double-rush season would start in another month; it was probably for the best to let the villagers rest up.

"So, what do you think? Did the Hawthorne family’s little vixen give in last night?" Mandy York asked loudly with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. A crowd of people—mostly other gossiping women—immediately gathered around her.

"I doubt it. Those troublemakers were screaming their heads off. No idea what happened, though."

"I heard it too. The dog was barking, and then a little while later, the men started howling. They probably didn’t get what they wanted."

Mandy York sneered. "Or maybe they were just having too good of a time," she said contemptuously. "It’s not like people sound like they’re singing when they’re in the middle of *that*."

"HAHAHAHA..."

The women all burst into laughter, thinking Mandy York actually had a point.