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

It gets light very quickly.

Chen Feng wandered around the shantytown in the east of the city for most of the night, finally finding a corner piled with scrap metal where he curled up and slept for a short while. In his dream, there were raging fires and the cries of Xiao Yu. He woke up in a cold sweat; it was already dawn.

He stood up and stretched his frozen limbs. The shantytown began to stir—coughs, doors opening, splashing water—early risers started their day.

Chen Feng had to leave before dawn. He was too conspicuous: a tattered cotton-padded coat, a dirty face, and wary eyes. Although the shantytown was chaotic, there were still vigilant eyes, and it would be troublesome if someone recognized him as a fugitive.

He walked out along a sewage ditch, trying to avoid people. But as soon as he reached the edge of the shantytown, he saw several people in blue overalls standing at the intersection, holding small flags, as if they were maintaining order.

They weren't police officers, they were part of the joint defense team.

Chen Feng's heart sank. He retreated into the alley and changed direction. But there were also three or four people patrolling at another intersection.

It was as if the entire city had been filled with informants overnight.

He dared not venture any further and retreated deeper into the shantytown. Here, the alleys were narrow, the houses low, garbage was everywhere, and a sour stench permeated the air. But precisely because of this, it was easy to hide.

Chen Feng found a relatively clean corner and squatted down to observe the movements outside.

The number of pedestrians on the street gradually increased. There were workers riding bicycles to work, housewives carrying shopping baskets, and students carrying schoolbags. Everything seemed normal, but Chen Feng keenly sensed that there were more people than usual.

It's not that there are more pedestrians, it's that there are more "idle people".

The man smoking at the intersection, the young man squatting at the alley entrance reading a newspaper, the middle-aged man pushing his bicycle around—the eyes of these people are scanning, observing, and searching.

Human wave tactics.

Chen Feng understood. The police used the simplest and most effective method: mobilizing the masses and deploying surveillance throughout the city. Joint defense teams, neighborhood committees, and activists were all mobilized. Every intersection, every alley, and every suspicious location was being watched.

He had nowhere to run.

Abandoned factories, underpasses, dilapidated temples—these places have definitely been searched. Even shantytowns aren't safe now; people could come at any time to check household registrations and screen outsiders.

Chen Feng gripped the dagger in his arms tightly. If all else failed, he would have no choice but to force his way through. He would fight his way out and run as far as he could.

But he knew that was the worst option. If he forced his way in, it would expose his location, and the police would immediately surround him. No matter how good he was at fighting, he couldn't defeat dozens of people, not to mention that they might be armed.

We must find another way.

Chen Feng closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. He needed a new hiding place, a place the police wouldn't expect.

Where is the safest place?

The most dangerous place is the safest place.

The thought suddenly flashed through Chen Feng's mind. He opened his eyes, his gaze brightening.

Steel rolling mill.

This is a large factory with 10,000 employees, a large area, many workshops, and many warehouses. People come and go all the time, and no one would notice that there is one more person.

Moreover, the steel rolling mill was an environment he was familiar with. He had worked there as a fitter for five years and knew the factory area like the back of his hand. He knew which workshops were less crowded at any given time, which warehouses were usually locked, and which corners were deserted.

More importantly, Xu Damao works at the steel rolling mill as a projectionist in the propaganda department. If they could find an opportunity at the factory, they might be able to get the screening schedule and find out Xu Damao's routes to the countryside.

Chen Feng made up his mind. He would go to the steel rolling mill.

But the problem now is, how do he get there? In his current state, he'll be stopped at the factory gate. The steel rolling mill has security guards who check work permits to enter and exit.

He needs to change his clothes, get a work permit, or sneak in.

Chen Feng wandered around the shantytown, looking for an opportunity. He saw several worn-out work clothes hanging on a clothesline, presumably belonging to some worker. With no one around, he quickly took down the most tattered piece and put it over his own ragged cotton-padded coat.

The work clothes were a bit small, but barely enough to wear. He found a rag, wiped his face clean, and smoothed his hair to make himself look like an ordinary worker.

But I'm still missing a work permit. Without a work permit, I can't enter the factory.

Chen Feng thought for a moment and decided to sneak in during the morning rush hour. The steel rolling mill opens at 7:30 in the morning, and that's when the gate is most crowded, as the security guards don't have time to check everyone carefully. If he just blends into the crowd and walks in with his head down, he should have a chance.

He glanced at the sky; it wasn't even seven o'clock yet. There was still plenty of time.

Chen Feng found a sheltered spot to sit down, took out the last half of a hard flatbread from his pocket, and ate it slowly. The flatbread was very hard, and he had to use saliva to swallow it. After finishing, he drank some water and closed his eyes to rest.

At 7:10, workers near the shantytown began to leave. Chen Feng stood up and followed the flow of people out. He walked with several workers wearing the same work clothes, heads down, not saying a word.

Along the way, he noticed that the "idle people" at the intersection were still there, but their attention was mainly on people walking alone, and they paid little attention to groups of workers.

Chen Feng breathed a slight sigh of relief. It seemed that the police were focusing their investigations on suspicious individuals who were alone, and were not checking the workers at work as strictly.

7:25 AM, at the entrance of the steel rolling mill.

A dense crowd surged toward the gate. The sounds of bicycle bells, voices, and coughs mingled together, creating a scene as bustling as a market. The gatekeeper stood at the entrance, watching the workers show their work IDs, occasionally stopping a few for questioning.

Chen Feng's heart was in his throat. He followed the crowd inside, trying to hide behind others. When he reached the gate, the security guard was checking the work permit of the person in front of him and didn't notice him. He quickened his pace and slipped through the factory gate.

They're inside!

Chen Feng didn't dare linger and quickly walked inside. He was familiar with the factory layout and knew that the fitter's workshop was at the very back, past a row of warehouses and material yards.

He didn't go to the workshop, but instead went to the warehouse area. There were usually few people there, only when people came to collect materials. He remembered that there was a small cubicle at the very back of warehouse number three, which used to be used to store old tools, but it was abandoned and no one went there usually.

Chen Feng went around to the back of the warehouse and found a broken window. The glass in the window was already shattered and it was held together with planks, but one of the planks was loose. He pushed hard, and the plank fell down, revealing a gap.

He crawled inside; it was pitch black. The air was thick with the smell of rust and dust. After adjusting to the light, he could see what was inside—piles of discarded machine tool parts, a worn-out toolbox, and several bundles of rusty wire.

Sure enough, there was a small cubicle at the very back, the door of which was broken and leaning against the wall. Chen Feng walked over and looked inside. The space was small, only about four or five square meters, with some tattered burlap sacks and straw mats on the floor, which must have been where the workers used to rest.

Although simple, it at least provides shelter from the wind and rain, and offers some privacy.

Chen Feng propped the door open, barely blocking the entrance. Then he found a relatively clean corner to sit down and let out a long sigh.

We're safe for now.

But he knew this was only temporary. He needed food, water, and intelligence.

Food and water were easy to obtain. The factory had a canteen, which was crowded at lunchtime, so he could sneak in and buy some food. But that required money and food coupons, which he had a little of, but not much.

Intelligence is key. He needs to know Xu Damao's screening schedule, when he will go to the countryside, and which route he will take.

Chen Feng thought for a moment and decided to go check out the publicity department. It was on the third floor of the factory office building; he had delivered materials there before and knew its approximate location.

But going during the day is too dangerous. Entry and exit to the factory office building requires registration, and the people in the publicity department might recognize him. Although he's been gone for over half a year, there's no guarantee someone won't remember him.

We'll have to wait until tonight.

Chen Feng rested in the cubicle, conserving his energy. He heard occasional footsteps and voices outside, but no one came in. Warehouse No. 3 was indeed rarely visited.

At 11:30 a.m., the workday bell rang. The factory instantly came alive as workers rushed to the canteen. Chen Feng waited a while, estimating when it would be busiest, then came out of the warehouse and mingled into the crowd.

The canteen was packed with people, the line for food stretching all the way to the door. Chen Feng stood in line, head down, silent. When it was his turn, he ordered two cornbread buns and a bowl of cabbage soup, paying with his money and food coupons.

The cafeteria worker glanced at him but didn't say anything. There were tens of thousands of workers in the factory; it was impossible for him to know them all.

Chen Feng found a corner to sit down with his food and quickly finished it. The cornbread was hard, and the cabbage soup was bland, but at least it was hot. He ate it all up, even drinking the soup.

After finishing his meal, he didn't leave immediately but sat there listening to the people around him chat. The workers were talking about things at the factory—which workshop had the heaviest workload, which foreman had a bad temper, and whose child had been admitted to middle school.

Chen Feng listened patiently, hoping to glean some information about Xu Damao. But no one mentioned it.

After finishing his meal, he returned to his warehouse cubicle. In the afternoon, the factory area became quieter, with only the faint hum of machinery. Chen Feng took a nap and woke up at four in the afternoon.

He needs to know more.

Chen Feng came out of the warehouse and wandered around the factory area. He avoided crowded places and took secluded paths. When he passed the building where the propaganda department was located, he looked up.

Several windows on the third floor were open, and you could see figures moving around inside. One of the windows had a movie poster on it, probably belonging to the publicity department.

Chen Feng noted the location and continued walking. He reached the vicinity of the fitter's workshop and glanced at it from afar. The workshop was filled with the roar of machines, and workers were busy at work. He had once been one of them, going to work and coming home every day, an ordinary but stable life.

Now, everything is irreversible.

As evening fell, the get off work bell rang. Workers gradually left the factory, and the factory area slowly quieted down. Chen Feng waited until it was completely dark before leaving the warehouse and heading towards the office building.

Several windows in the office building still had lights on, probably from people working overtime. Chen Feng went around to the back of the building, found a window that wasn't closed properly, and quietly climbed inside.

The hallway was quiet, with only the sound of a typewriter coming from afar. Chen Feng tiptoed up to the third floor and found the propaganda department's office.

The door was locked. Chen Feng tried, but the lock was sturdy and he couldn't pry it open. He looked at the window next to him; it was locked too.

What should I do?

Just then, he heard footsteps on the stairs. Chen Feng quickly hid in the adjacent bathroom. The footsteps grew closer; it was two people talking.

"That kid Xu Damao has slipped away again."

"He's going to show a movie in Daxing tomorrow, so he needs to prepare the equipment."

What movie are you showing?

"The Red Detachment of Women, it's an old movie. But the villagers love watching it."

The two walked past the bathroom door, talking. Chen Feng held his breath and waited until they were far away before coming out.

Xu Damao is going to show a movie in Daxing tomorrow.

This is important information. But it's not enough; he needs to know the specific route and the specific time.

Chen Feng glanced at the propaganda department's door and suddenly thought of a solution. The door couldn't be pried open, but the gap was large enough to slip something under it. He needed a document, a screening plan.

He went back downstairs and found an office with the lights on. Through the crack in the door, he saw a young man organizing documents inside. Chen Feng waited for a while, and then the man got up to get some water, his back to the door.

The opportunity is here.

Chen Feng gently pushed open the door and slipped inside. The office was piled high with documents, and several unprocessed materials lay on the desk. He quickly flipped through them and found a "Screening Schedule for This Month."

He didn't have time to look at it closely, stuffed the document into his pocket, and turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, the young man turned around.

"You..." The young man was taken aback.

"I went the wrong way," Chen Feng said, head down, and quickly left.

"Hey, wait a minute!" the young man called from behind.

Chen Feng didn't turn around, quickening his pace as he went downstairs. He heard footsteps chasing after him, but he had already run out of the office building and disappeared into the night.

Back in the warehouse cubicle, Chen Feng finally breathed a sigh of relief. He took out the document and looked at it in the dim light from the window.

The document listed the schedule for all the rural screenings this month. Xu Damao's name appeared three times: tomorrow to Daxing Commune, five days later to Fangshan Commune, and ten days later to Tongxian Commune.

Tomorrow, Daxing Commune.

Chen Feng remembered it. The document also stated the departure time: 7:00 AM, depart by bicycle with equipment. As for the route? The document didn't specify the exact route, but to get to Daxing Commune, it would definitely have to take the Jingkai Highway.

Chen Feng carefully put the documents away and leaned them against the wall. Tomorrow, he would follow Xu Damao and make his move on the road.

The Jingkai Highway passes through woodlands, farmland, and remote sections. Find a suitable place and settle things with Xu Damao.

and then?

Chen Feng closed his eyes. There were still many people, Sha Zhu, Liu Guangtian, Yan Jiecheng... one by one.

Not a single one will be left.

The night was deep, and the steel rolling mill was completely silent. Only the residual heat of the machines lingered, and the whistling of the night wind swept through the factory area.

Chen Feng opened his eyes in the darkness, his gaze as cold as a knife.

Tomorrow will be another bloody day.