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

"Old Zhang, have you ever tried a large-scale investigation?"

The bureau chief's office was filled with smoke. Officer Zhang stood at the desk, his brow furrowed. Opposite him sat the branch bureau chief, a man in his fifties with graying temples and sharp, eagle-like eyes.

"Chief, we're short-handed," Officer Zhang said frankly. "In Chen Feng's case, since the prison break, three lives have been lost, and one person has been crippled. But there's not a single clue at the scene—no murder weapon, no fingerprints, no footprints. We can't even pinpoint where he's hiding."

The bureau chief stubbed out his cigarette: "Wasn't it said that Chen Feng did it?"

"There's a motive, but no evidence." Officer Zhang smiled bitterly. "All the victims had a grudge against Chen Feng; they were the ones who testified against him or handled the fire at his house. Even a fool knows Chen Feng did it. But where's the evidence? The murder weapon? Witnesses? Nothing."

He paused, then added, "Moreover, Chen Feng has very strong counter-surveillance capabilities. Judging from the scene, he acted swiftly and decisively, killing and fleeing without hesitation. Was he a soldier?"

"No," the director said, flipping through the file. "He came from an ordinary working-class family. His father was a worker, and his mother was a housewife. He himself worked as a fitter in a steel rolling mill for five years."

"That's strange." Officer Zhang stroked his chin. "How could a fitter be so professional? The murder, the escape, the hiding—every step seemed to be trained."

The bureau chief was silent for a moment, then lit another cigarette: "Old Zhang, what do you think Chen Feng is thinking right now?"

"Revenge." Officer Zhang said without hesitation. "His parents are dead, his sister is missing and probably dead too, and he's been sent to a labor camp. His family is ruined. He's now a revenge machine, and his only thought is to kill all his enemies."

"Who will be next?"

"Those people in the courtyard," said Officer Zhang, "Yi Zhonghai is crippled, Jia Dongxu is dead, but there's still Sha Zhu, Xu Damao, Liu Guangtian, Yan Jiecheng... all the people who testified against him back then are still alive. And there's Jia Zhangshi, who's occupying the Chen family's house."

The bureau chief took a deep drag on his cigarette: "Here's the plan: coordinate with the police stations in each district, and start a city-wide search tomorrow. Focus on abandoned buildings, underpasses, shantytowns, and small hotels. Chen Feng needs to eat and sleep; he can't just hide in the wilderness forever."

"But Chief, a city-wide search would be too drastic and might alert the enemy."

"We need to let him know we're looking for him." The chief's eyes turned cold. "He's in the shadows right now, and we're in the open; we're too passive. We need to force him out, force him to make a mistake."

Officer Zhang thought for a moment and nodded: "Understood."

"In addition," the director said, "send people to keep watch at the courtyard. Chen Feng will definitely go back; his enemies are there, and so is his house. Send more people, in shifts 24 hours a day."

"yes!"

"And one more thing," the chief concluded, "be careful. Chen Feng is in a killing frenzy now; he won't hold back against the police. Have your comrades carry guns; they can open fire if necessary."

Officer Zhang saluted and turned to leave. As he reached the door, the bureau chief called him back: "Old Zhang, this case needs to be handled quickly. If another person dies, we can't afford the responsibility."

"clear."

As evening fell, an eerie silence filled the courtyard.

News of Jia Dongxu's death had spread throughout the entire hospital, but no one dared to discuss it openly. Every household closed their doors early, bolted their windows, and some even used tables to barricade their doors.

At Yi Zhonghai's home, an older woman carefully fed her husband a bowl of porridge. Yi Zhonghai's right hand was wrapped in thick gauze, his face was pale, and his eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Old Yi, have some porridge," an older woman said softly.

Yi Zhonghai shook his head and didn't speak. He hadn't eaten much for two days; it wasn't that he didn't want to eat, but that he couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw were Chen Feng's cold eyes and that scythe swinging down.

"You said..." Yi Zhonghai suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse, "Who will be next after Chen Feng?"

The older woman's hand trembled, spilling some porridge: "Don't...don't talk nonsense."

"I'm not making this up," Yi Zhonghai said with a bitter smile. "Qin Huairu is dead, Jia Dongxu is dead, Director Wang is dead, and I'm finished. Who else is left? Sha Zhu? Xu Damao? Liu Guangtian? Or you?"

The middle-aged woman's face turned pale: "Old Yi, don't scare me..."

"I'm not trying to scare you," Yi Zhonghai said, closing his eyes. "I'm just wondering, why did we do that in the first place? Was it worth it for two houses?"

He had asked himself this question countless times. When Jia Dongxu first approached him, asking for the Chen family's house and requesting his help, he agreed. Jia Dongxu promised him a room after the deal was done, and everyone else in the compound listened to him. He felt that Chen Feng, an ordinary worker, couldn't cause any trouble.

He was wrong. Utterly wrong.

Chen Feng stirred up not just waves, but a blood feud.

"Karma..." Yi Zhonghai muttered to himself.

In the Jia family home, Madam Jia Zhang sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), cradling her sleeping son, Bang Geng, in her arms. She didn't cry or make a fuss; she just stared blankly out the window. In the courtyard, Qin Huairu's mourning tent hadn't been taken down yet; the white cloth fluttered in the night wind like a banner summoning the soul.

She remembered her son's last moments—early yesterday morning, he hurriedly left with his bag, without looking back. At the time, she thought her son was clever, knowing to hide. Now, thinking back, that might have been the last time she saw him.

"Dongxu..." Madam Jia whispered her son's name, tears finally streaming down her face.

But she quickly wiped away her tears. What was the use of crying? Her son was dead, her daughter-in-law was dead, she couldn't collapse. She still had her grandson, she still had to completely take over the Chen family's house, and she still had to live.

Jia Zhangshi's eyes turned fierce. "Chen Feng, you killed my son, I'll make you pay with your life!"

She pulled the kitchen knife from under the straw mat and gripped it tightly. The blade gleamed coldly in the dim light. Tonight, she would sleep with this knife in her arms. If Chen Feng dared to come, she would fight him to the death!

At Sha Zhu's house, he was drinking alone. On the table was a dish of peanuts, and a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) was already more than half empty. He was drinking very quickly, downing almost half a glass in one gulp, as if it weren't liquor but water.

"Sister Qin..." Sha Zhu stared blankly at the poster of the model opera on the wall, "I'm sorry... I didn't protect you well..."

He remembered Qin Huairu's appearance when she was alive, her gentle smile, and the tender voice in her voice when she called him "Zhu Zi." Now, all of that was gone. Qin Huairu was dead, hacked to death, buried in a mass grave, without even a proper tombstone.

"Chen Feng!" Sha Zhu slammed his fist on the table. "I'm going to kill you!"

He grabbed the bottle and took another big gulp. The alcohol burned his stomach, but he didn't care. The pain allowed him to temporarily forget his fear, the horrific scene of Qin Huairu's death, and Yi Zhonghai's severed hand.

But after the alcohol wore off, the fear returned, and it was even stronger.

Sha Zhu knew that Chen Feng's next target might be him. That night, he joined Jia Dongxu in beating up Chen Feng, and they fought fiercely. Chen Feng remembered, he must have remembered.

"Come on!" Sha Zhu suddenly stood up and shouted at the empty room, "Chen Feng! Come on! I'm waiting for you!"

The sound echoed in the empty room, but no one answered. Only the sound of the wind outside the window sounded like someone whispering.

At Xu Damao's house, he was arguing with his wife.

"I told you not to get involved in the courtyard's affairs, but you wouldn't listen!" the wife cried. "Now look what's happened, Chen Feng is back, and we might be next!"

"Shut up!" Xu Damao's face was ashen. "How was I supposed to know it would turn out like this? So many people in the courtyard were talking about it, how could I not say anything?"

"Then why are you talking about it so enthusiastically? You even said you saw Chen Feng behaving like a hooligan with your own eyes! Did you see it?"

Xu Damao fell silent. He truly hadn't seen anything. That night, he heard Qin Huairu scream for help. When he ran over, he saw Chen Feng standing in the corner of the courtyard, and Qin Huairu sitting on the ground, her clothes disheveled. Jia Dongxu insisted that Chen Feng had been a pervert, and Yi Zhonghai echoed him, so he went along with it, embellishing the story.

At the time, he didn't think much of it. Chen Feng was just an ordinary worker with no family connections; if they got rid of him, so be it. Who could have imagined that Chen Feng would turn out like this?

"What's the point of saying all this now?" Xu Damao waved his hand irritably. "Hurry up and pack your things. Go stay at your parents' house for a few days tomorrow."

"And what about you?"

"I..." Xu Damao hesitated. He couldn't leave; his job was here, his house was here. And leaving now would be tantamount to telling others that he had a guilty conscience.

"I'm staying," Xu Damao said through gritted teeth. "I refuse to believe Chen Feng would dare to come!"

But his hands were trembling as he said this.

Late at night.

Chen Feng stood at the entrance of the alley, two streets away from the courtyard house, his face covered except for his eyes. He wore a tattered cotton-padded jacket, with a dagger and sickle tucked into his waistband, and held a wooden stick in his hand—which could be used as a walking stick or a weapon.

But he did not immediately approach the courtyard house.

His intuition told him that something was wrong.

It's too quiet. Usually at this time, you could hear some noise around the courtyard house—a child crying, a couple arguing, the sound of a radio. But tonight, there's nothing. Utter silence.

Moreover, he noticed some unfamiliar faces at the alley entrance. Two men in dark clothes were smoking, seemingly chatting, but their eyes kept scanning their surroundings. There was also a man pushing a bicycle, wandering around the alley, having already gone around three or four times.

public security.

Chen Feng immediately realized. Although these people weren't in uniform, their posture and eyes clearly identified them as police officers. They were lying in wait for him.

As expected, Officer Zhang wasn't stupid; he knew he would come back.

Chen Feng retreated into the shadows and observed carefully. There should be guards at both the front and back gates of the courtyard, and possibly others inside as well. Forcing his way in would be tantamount to walking into a trap.

But he had to make his move tonight. Jia Dongxu was dead, and the people in the courtyard must be terrified; now was the perfect time to strike while the iron was hot. Besides, he needed food, money, and something from the Jia or Yi families.

Chen Feng thought for a moment, then turned and left. He didn't go back to the abandoned church, but instead went around to the alley behind the courtyard house. There was a low wall there; climbing over it led to the backyard.

Several families lived in the backyard, the one furthest to the side being Xu Damao's family. Xu Damao, who had been the most boisterous that night, claimed to have witnessed Chen Feng harassing Qin Huairu.

That's him.

Chen Feng quietly approached the low wall. The wall wasn't high, only about 1.5 meters, and he could easily climb over it. But he didn't act immediately; instead, he crouched at the base of the wall and listened for ten minutes.

There was barking from the backyard, but it stopped quickly. Someone coughed, someone closed a window, and then there was silence again.

Chen Feng stood up, preparing to climb over the wall, when he suddenly heard soft footsteps behind him. He immediately crouched down and hid in the shadows of the corner.

Two dark figures walked out of the alleyway, their footsteps light but steady. They were plainclothes police officers.

"Old Liu, do you think Chen Feng will come tonight?" a young voice asked.

"I don't know," the other voice said more steadily. "But Captain Zhang said Chen Feng will definitely come back. We just need to keep watch."

"We've been keeping watch for most of the night, and there's not a soul in sight. Shall we go check the front gate?"

"No, Captain Zhang instructed everyone to stay in their positions and not move around."

The two walked around the alley for a while, then turned back. When they reached the corner where Chen Feng was hiding, the younger one suddenly stopped: "Old Liu, look, isn't someone here?"

Chen Feng's heart pounded. He gripped the dagger in his arms, ready to fight to the death.

Old Liu shone his flashlight on the corner of the wall, and the beam swept across where Chen Feng was hiding, just half a meter away from illuminating him.

"Nobody's here, you must be seeing things," Old Liu said. "Let's go, keep patrolling."

The two left. Chen Feng breathed a sigh of relief, but his back was already soaked with sweat.

That was close. If he had been discovered, it would have been a fierce battle. He had a knife, but his opponents had guns, and there were more than two of them.

We can't force it.

Chen Feng abandoned his plan for tonight. He quietly retreated and retraced his steps. When he reached a fork in the road, he hesitated for a moment, then instead of returning to the church, he headed east towards the city.

He remembered a shantytown in the east of the city, a place where all sorts of people mingled and it was easy to hide. Besides, he needed to find out some information—about Xiaoyu.

Although Jia Dongxu said Xiaoyu was dead, that she had fallen into the moat, he still couldn't give up. What if Jia Dongxu was lying? What if Xiaoyu was still alive?

Even if there's only a one in ten thousand chance, he'll still go find it.

Chen Feng moved through the night like a black shadow. The courtyard behind him grew farther and farther away, but he knew he would go back.

None of those enemies will escape.

But now, he needs to change his approach and his method.

The police were staking out the courtyard, so he couldn't force his way in. He decided to find a different target, a different location.

There's always a way.

Blood debts must be repaid in blood.

Not a single one will be left.