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

The next morning, at the public toilet in Zhangjiazhuang.

Li Dazhuang, rushing to catch the early bus, pushed open the door and was hit by a stench. He frowned; that's how public toilets are in the countryside, he thought, he'll just have to bear it. He walked to the squat toilet on the left, and just as he was about to unzip his pants, he suddenly felt something at his feet.

Looking down, Li Dazhuang was terrified.

A person! No, a corpse! Head down in the squat toilet, pants pulled down to the knees, a deep cut on the neck, the blood already congealed into a dark red, flies buzzing around it.

"Ah—! Dead! There's a dead person!" Li Dazhuang scrambled out of the public toilet, his belt undone.

He rushed back to the long-distance bus parked by the roadside, his face ashen. The other passengers on the bus were stunned by his appearance.

"Dazhuang, what's wrong?"

"Is this a ghost?"

Li Dazhuang gasped for breath: "There's a dead person in the public toilet! Their throat was slit!"

The carriage instantly erupted in chaos.

"What?"

"Really?"

"Who is it? How did they die?"

The driver, Lao Zhang, was a middle-aged man in his forties. He was stunned when he heard the news. He had been a driver for more than ten years and had seen all sorts of strange things on the road, but this was the first time he had ever seen a dead person.

"Did you see clearly?" Old Zhang asked.

"Look...look closely!" Li Dazhuang pointed towards the public toilet, "It's in that pit on the left, the neck was slashed, the blood's all dried!"

Old Zhang's face was grave. He glanced at the twenty-odd passengers on the bus, then at the public toilet in the distance. This was the middle of nowhere, far from any village or shop, and more than twenty miles from the capital.

"We need to go back and report this to the police," Old Zhang said.

"No, Mr. Zhang!" a passenger cried out urgently. "I have to go home today; there's an emergency!"

"Exactly, we all bought tickets, why should we be turned back?"

"Why don't some of you stay here and wait for the police, and we'll go first?"

The passengers started arguing amongst themselves. In those days, long-distance buses were infrequent; missing this one meant waiting until tomorrow. Nobody wanted to be delayed.

Old Zhang slammed his hand on the steering wheel: "What's all the noise about! Someone's dead, you know? It's a matter of life and death! I'm the driver, I make the decisions!"

His shout silenced the carriage. In those days, drivers held a high status, especially long-distance bus drivers, who were knowledgeable and had a voice.

"Everyone, get seated!" Old Zhang started the car. "We're going back to Beijing to report this! The station will explain the time we've wasted!"

No one dared to object anymore. The car turned around and drove back the way it came.

The atmosphere on the train was terrifyingly oppressive. The passengers exchanged glances and whispered amongst themselves. A dead man, killed by having his throat slit—this was no small matter.

Li Dazhuang sat trembling in his seat. The image of the corpse kept flashing through his mind—the knife wound on the neck, the congealed blood, the buzzing flies. The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became; his stomach churned, and he almost vomited.

An hour later, the bus returned to the Sijiucheng Long-Distance Bus Station. Old Zhang told the ticket seller to watch the passengers and then quickly ran to the station office.

"Stationmaster! Something's happened!" Old Zhang rushed into the office. "We found a body in the public restroom in Zhangjiazhuang!"

The stationmaster, who was drinking tea, nearly choked upon hearing this: "What? A corpse?"

"It's absolutely true! Passengers saw it with their own eyes; his neck was slashed!"

The station manager's expression changed drastically, and he immediately grabbed the phone: "Connect me to the police station!"

At 10:00 AM, the police station received a report. Officer Zhang, along with several officers, got into a jeep and headed straight for Zhangjiazhuang.

A crowd of villagers had already gathered around the public toilet to watch the commotion. Old Zhang and several passengers, as witnesses, waited at the scene. Li Dazhuang was still trembling and could barely speak.

"It's...it's this pit..." He pointed to the squatting pit on the left, not daring to go closer.

Officer Zhang put on gloves and went into the public restroom. The stench was even stronger, a mixture of blood and excrement that made him want to vomit. He forced himself to endure it and squatted down to examine the body.

The deceased was a male, around thirty years old, wearing dark blue overalls. He had a deep, bone-revealing cut on his neck, severing his carotid artery. His body was already stiff; the estimated time of death was yesterday morning.

"Check if he has any identification on him," Officer Zhang said to his assistant.

The assistant, suppressing his nausea, searched the deceased's body. He found a work ID in the pocket of the work clothes, which had a photo, name, and company information on it.

"Captain Zhang, look." The assistant handed over his work ID.

The work permit was stained with blood, but the words on it were still legible: Jia Dongxu, male, 31 years old, second-level fitter at Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill.

Officer Zhang's pupils contracted. Jia Dongxu! He was questioned at the police station just yesterday, and today he's dead here!

He examined the photo closely, then looked at the corpse's face. Although it was covered in blood, he could still recognize it as Jia Dongxu.

"It's him." Officer Zhang took a deep breath. "Notify the steel mill and the courtyard house. Also, cordon off the scene and conduct a thorough investigation."

"yes!"

The police officers sprang into action. Some took photos, some measured, and some searched the surrounding area for clues. Officer Zhang stood outside the public restroom, lit a cigarette, and his mind raced.

Jia Dongxu is dead. He was found dead in a public toilet in the suburbs, his throat slit.

Who did it? Chen Feng, it must be Chen Feng.

Yesterday, when Jia Dongxu left the police station, Chen Feng sensed something was wrong. His panic and fear didn't seem like those of an innocent person. Now, thinking back, Jia Dongxu probably knew Chen Feng wanted to kill him, so he tried to run. But he couldn't.

Officer Zhang stubbed out his cigarette and walked back to the jeep: "Back to the city! To the courtyard house!"

At the same time, the courtyard was still immersed in the atmosphere of yesterday's funeral. Qin Huairu was buried, Jia Dongxu ran away, and only Jia Zhangshi and Banggeng remained of the Jia family. The people in the courtyard were all talking about it: Now that Jia Dongxu was gone, when would he come back? Would he ever come back?

Jia Zhangshi sat at home, counting the money she had received as gifts yesterday. She counted it again and again, becoming happier with each count. Eighty-three yuan and sixty cents, plus what she had saved before, made more than two hundred yuan. Enough for her and her grandson to live on for quite some time.

As for Jia Dongxu, she wasn't too worried. Her son was clever; he could go back to his hometown to hide for a while and come back after Chen Feng was arrested. He should be fine.

Just then, a commotion arose outside. Jia Zhangshi walked to the door and saw several uniformed policemen enter the courtyard, led by Officer Zhang.

"Officer Zhang, what brings you here?" Liu Haizhong hurriedly went to greet him.

Officer Zhang's expression was serious: "Where is Jia Dongxu?"

The people in the courtyard looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Dongxu... he went back to his hometown," Liu Haizhong said. "He left early yesterday morning."

"Which hometown are you going back to?"

"Fangshan, his hometown is Fangshan."

After a moment of silence, Officer Zhang said, "We found a body in the public toilet in Zhangjiazhuang. It had Jia Dongxu's work ID on it."

"What?" Liu Haizhong was stunned.

The cloth bag in Jia Zhangshi's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," scattering money everywhere. But she didn't bother to pick it up, rushing over to grab Zhang Gong'an's arm: "What did you say? Dongxu... Dongxu, he..."

"The deceased was male, around thirty years old, with a stab wound on his neck." Officer Zhang looked at her. "We need to confirm his identity now. Aunt Jia, please come with us."

Jia Zhangshi's legs went weak, and she collapsed to the ground. Liu Haizhong quickly helped her up, but she could no longer cry; her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide open, like a fish out of water.

Everyone in the courtyard was stunned. Jia Dongxu was dead? Dead in the public toilet? His throat slit?

Sha Zhu rushed over: "Officer Zhang, are you sure it's Brother Dongxu?"

"His name and photo are on the work permit," Officer Zhang said. "But we still need his family to confirm. Aunt Jia, can you walk? If not, we'll carry you."

Suddenly, Madam Jia let out a heart-wrenching wail: "Dongxu—my son—how could you leave like this—"

This crying prompted the other women in the courtyard to join in. Although their relationship with the Jia family was sometimes good and sometimes bad, the sudden death of a living person was still shocking.

After Officer Zhang and Mrs. Jia cried for a while, he said, "Mrs. Jia, please accept my condolences. The most important thing now is to confirm their identities and catch the murderer. Please come with us."

With Liu Haizhong and Sha Zhu's help, Jia Zhangshi stood up and followed the police out. Reaching the courtyard gate, she suddenly turned back, her triangular eyes filled with venomous resentment: "It's Chen Feng! It must be Chen Feng! You must catch him! Avenge my son!"

No one answered. Everyone knew who did it, but no one dared to speak.

After Officer Zhang left with Jia Zhangshi, the courtyard fell into a deathly silence. Everyone sensed that things were getting increasingly serious.

Jia Dongxu is dead; this is the third death. Who will be next?

"Zhu Zi," Yan Bugui whispered to Sha Zhu, "Do you think Chen Feng might...?"

"Shut up!" Sha Zhu roared. "If he dares to come, I'll kill him!"

But his clenched fist was shaking.

The steel rolling mill also received the notification.

Workshop foreman Lao Li's hands trembled as he held the police station's phone records. Jia Dongxu was dead? The level-two fitter who had just taken leave yesterday?

He immediately convened a meeting of the section chiefs and briefed them on the situation. The workers quickly found out, and the workshop was abuzz with discussion.

"Jia Dongxu is dead? How did he die?"

"I heard he was murdered by having his throat slit and died in a public toilet."

"Who did it?"

"Who else could it be but Chen Feng?"

"My goodness, how many is this now?"

The workers were both afraid and curious. Chen Feng had once worked in this factory; he was an honest and simple man, and no one could have imagined that he would become a serial killer.

The security personnel arrived and cooperated with the police investigation. They searched Jia Dongxu's workstation and his locker, but found no valuable clues.

"When Jia Dongxu asked for leave yesterday, he said there was something going on at home," Old Li told Officer Zhang. "He didn't say what it was. I thought it was his wife's funeral..."

"Has his wife's funeral been held?" Officer Zhang asked.

"I heard it was held yesterday, but he didn't attend and left early this morning." Old Li sighed. "Officer Zhang, when will this Chen Feng matter ever end? The workers are all scared; they're afraid to walk at night or go to the toilet alone."

Officer Zhang was silent for a moment: "We will catch him as soon as possible. But you should also be vigilant and report any suspicious activity immediately."

"Definitely, definitely."

In the afternoon, Jia Zhangshi returned from the police station. It was confirmed that the deceased was Jia Dongxu. The time of death was yesterday morning, and the cause of death was massive bleeding from a stab wound to the neck.

The police gave her a death certificate and told her to handle the funeral arrangements. However, Jia Dongxu's body was still at the police station and could only be retrieved after the autopsy.

When Jia Zhangshi returned to the courtyard house, she seemed completely lost. She didn't cry or make a scene; she just sat blankly on the kang (a heated brick bed), her eyes staring straight at the ground.

The little boy, still young and oblivious, tugged at her clothes and said, "Grandma, I'm hungry..."

Jia Zhangshi mechanically pulled a cornbread from her pocket and handed it to her grandson. Banggeng took the cornbread and began to eat it heartily.

"Grandma, where's Dad?" Banggeng asked while eating.

Madam Jia didn't answer. Suddenly, she stood up, walked to the door, and shouted into the courtyard, "Chen Feng! You come out here! If you have the guts, kill me too! Come out!"

The voice was shrill and echoed in the courtyard. Everyone kept their doors closed, and no one dared to come out and try to persuade them.

Sha Zhu couldn't stand it anymore and came out of the house: "Aunt Jia, please don't be like this. Brother Dongxu has already left. You need to take care of yourself. Bang Geng still needs you."

"Take care of yourself?!" Jia Zhangshi glared at Sha Zhu. "My son is dead! My daughter-in-law is dead! What do I have to take care of now! That bastard Chen Feng, I'll eat his flesh and drink his blood!"

She became increasingly agitated as she spoke, and suddenly rushed back into the house, pulled a kitchen knife from under the bed, and charged out, yelling, "Chen Feng! You come out here! I'm going to kill you!"

Sha Zhu quickly stopped her: "Aunt Jia! Calm down!"

"Let me go! I want revenge for my son!" Jia Zhangshi struggled, swinging the kitchen knife wildly in the air.

Everyone else in the courtyard came out, but no one dared to step forward. Jia Zhangshi was now a madwoman; she would chop anyone who got close.

In the end, it was Yi Zhonghai who came out. Although his right hand was crippled, he still retained his authority. He stood in front of Jia Zhangshi and said in a deep voice, "Sister-in-law, put the knife down."

Looking at his empty right sleeve, Jia Zhangshi suddenly laughed, a pathetic laugh: "Yi Zhonghai, what right do you have to talk to me like that? How did you lose your hand? Wasn't it Chen Feng who chopped it off? Now you're scared? Too late!"

Yi Zhonghai's face paled, but he didn't back down: "Put down the knife. Do you want Bang Geng to die without a grandmother?"

When her grandson was mentioned, Jia Zhangshi's hand trembled. She glanced at Banggeng, who was crying loudly in fright beside her, and the kitchen knife clattered to the ground.

Holding her grandson, she burst into tears, crying, "Why is my life so miserable—"

The piercing cries echoed through the courtyard. No one spoke, no one tried to comfort them; they simply listened in silence.

The cries contained sorrow, fear, and despair. Everyone knew that Chen Feng wasn't finished. He had killed Jia Dongxu, and he would kill the next one.

Who will be next?

no one knows.

But everyone was asking themselves: What did I do that night? What did I say? Will Chen Feng come looking for me?

Panic spread like wildfire. The courtyard became a place of constant fear, with everyone living in its shadow.

Meanwhile, Chen Feng was sharpening his knife in an abandoned church in the north of the city.

The blade scraped against the whetstone, making a "swish-swish" sound that echoed in the silent church.

He knew that Jia Dongxu's death would cause a huge uproar, that the police would intensify their search, and that the people in the compound would be terrified.

But he doesn't care.

He has already decided on his next goal.

The knife is sharpened; it's very sharp and can cut through the skin with a light stroke.

Chen Feng put the knife away, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.

Tonight, there will be bloodshed again.