Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

The streets of Sham Shui Po appear particularly crowded and authentic under the afternoon sun.

Chen Feng, holding Xiao Yu's hand, walked through Ya Liao Street lined with stalls, through the fishy-smelling Beihe Street Market, and around several tenement buildings with mottled exteriors and clotheslines sticking out haphazardly. He deliberately avoided the main streets that were too crowded, choosing instead to walk through the relatively quiet but still lively back alleys.

Although their new clothes were ordinary, they were clean and tidy, and not conspicuous in this area inhabited by a large number of low-income laborers and new immigrants. Xiaoyu wore a baseball cap, kept her head down, and followed closely behind her brother, occasionally stealing glances at this world that was so different from Beijing—narrow streets, unfamiliar traditional Chinese characters on densely packed signs, crowds of people in colorful clothes hurrying by, and the air filled with a mixture of roast meat, seafood, sweat, and some indescribable damp smell.

As Chen Feng walked, he observed his surroundings with sharp eyes.

He saw various rental notices posted on the utility poles, red paper with black lettering, some of which were faded and curled at the edges. Some read "House for Rent", some read "Room for Rent, Monthly Rent XX Yuan, Utilities Included", and some simply read "Room for Rent, Negotiable".

He paid special attention to notices with relatively new handwriting that were posted in less conspicuous places—meaning that the landlord might have recently vacated the property and was not keen to publicize it.

On a relatively quiet side street corner, a slightly worn red paper was pasted on a concrete utility pole. The handwriting was neat and in blue ink:

"Rear unit on the third floor of No. 132 Fuk Wing Street, one bedroom and one living room, separate kitchen and bathroom, monthly rent of HK$80, two months' deposit and one month's rent in advance. Interested parties please come to discuss between 3 and 5 pm. Mrs. Chan."

The address is clear, the rent is transparently priced, and the timing is perfect.

Chen Feng looked up at the street called "Fuk Wing Street". It wasn't very wide, and on both sides were typical Hong Kong Island tenement buildings, five or six stories high, with gray-yellow exterior walls and densely packed windows, many of which had clothes drying on the windowsills. The street was relatively clean, with few pedestrians, and a few elderly people were sitting at the entrance of a tea restaurant downstairs, drinking tea and reading newspapers.

Number 132 is not far ahead.

Chen Feng led Xiao Yu to the front of the tenement building. The entrance was a typical green iron gate, already somewhat rusty, and half-open. Nameplates for each floor's residents were posted on the door, the handwriting messy. The nameplate on the third floor read "Mrs. Chen" and "Mr. Zhang".

He glanced at his pocket watch—an ordinary mechanical watch he had taken out of his personal storage space, showing 3:20 p.m.

Just right.

He straightened his collar and whispered to Xiaoyu, "Remember, my name is Chen Guodong, and yours is Chen Xiaoyun. We're brothers. We just came from Chaoshan to visit relatives, but we couldn't find them, so we need to rent a place to stay. Just nod and keep quiet."

Xiaoyu nodded vigorously, and pulled her hat brim down even further with her little hands.

Chen Feng took a deep breath, forced a slightly tired, somewhat honest smile onto his face, and then pulled Xiao Yu up the dimly lit stairs.

The staircase was narrow and steep, the edges of the cement steps worn, the handrail made of rough wooden strips with peeling paint. A damp, musty smell mingled with the aromas of cooking wafting from each household. Someone on the second floor was speaking loudly on the phone in Cantonese, while the sound of a radio playing Cantonese opera drifted from the third floor.

Upon reaching the third floor, there was a door on each side. The left door was labeled "Zhang Sheng," and the right door was labeled "Chen Tai."

Chen Feng knocked on the door on the right.

A moment later, the door opened. The person who opened it was a middle-aged woman in her fifties, slightly plump, wearing a floral blouse and black trousers. Her hair was tied in a bun at the back of her head, and her face held a shrewd and scrutinizing expression as she looked Chen Feng and Xiao Yu up and down.

"Who are you looking for?" she asked in Cantonese, with a heavy accent.

Chen Feng was prepared. Back in Beijing, his work had exposed him to people from all over the country. Although he couldn't speak Cantonese, he could understand some simple phrases. He deliberately spoke in heavily accented Mandarin, interspersed with a few broken Cantonese words, politely saying:

"Mrs. Chen? I came here after seeing the rental ad downstairs. I'd like to see the apartment. My surname is Chen, and my name is Chen Guodong. This is my younger brother, Chen Xiaoyun."

He bowed slightly as he spoke, his tone respectful, his face bearing the expression of someone who was new to the place and a little reserved.

Mrs. Chen frowned slightly upon hearing Mandarin, clearly wary of a "mainlander" from the north. However, seeing Chen Feng's clean clothes, polite manner, and the well-behaved child beside him with his head down, her expression softened. She spoke in heavily accented Mandarin mixed with Cantonese:

"Oh, you're here to see the house. Come in. The house is on the third floor at the back; you need to go up half a floor from here using these stairs."

As she spoke, she turned and took a set of keys from behind the door, leading Chen Feng and Xiao Yu to the other side of the stairwell. It turned out that there was a half-floor between the third and fourth floors, which was a separate unit added later, and it could be accessed via a small staircase at the corner of the third floor.

The smaller staircase was even narrower, allowing only one person to pass at a time. Chen Feng let Mrs. Chen walk in front, while he protected Xiao Yu and followed behind.

After going up halfway up the stairs, a green wooden door came into view.

Mrs. Chen used her key to open the door.

The room was cleaner than Chen Feng had expected.

Upon entering, there's a small living room, about seven or eight square meters, with old but clean patterned tiles on the floor. Inside, there's a folding table, two chairs, and a low cabinet in the corner. To the left of the living room is the bedroom door, and to the right are the doors to the kitchen and bathroom.

Chen Feng first looked around the living room. The window faced north, overlooking the fire lane of the building behind, so the lighting was average, but the privacy was good. He walked to the window, pushed open the wooden window, and looked out—below was a narrow alley, and opposite was the back wall of another tenement building, about two meters away, impossible to cross directly. The windowsill was high; an adult would need to stand on tiptoe to see outside.

Then he opened the bedroom door. The bedroom was slightly smaller than the living room, about five or six square meters, and contained a simple wooden bed, an old wardrobe, and a small bedside table. The window also faced the back alley.

The kitchen is a typical layout of a tenement building on Hong Kong Island, long and narrow, with a small gas stove and sink. The toilet has a flush toilet and a shower; although simple, it is fully functional.

Most importantly, the entire unit is independent, with its own entrance, and does not share space with other people.

"How is it? Nice house, right?" Mrs. Chen stood in the living room, hands on her hips. "It's not big, but it has everything you need. It's not easy for me to manage so many houses by myself, so I must rent it to someone who likes cleanliness. You two brothers seem quite honest to me."