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

At 11 p.m., the courtyard house resembled a silent tomb.

The lights in the front and middle yards were off, with only a dim yellow light shining from the old deaf woman's room in the back yard. Two members of the joint defense team stood guard at the gate, clutching their guns, their necks hunched, stamping their feet to keep warm. Inside the yard, four people were patrolling—Liu Guangfu, Yan Jiefang, and two young men, walking in pairs around the yard, their sticks gripped tightly, their eyes scanning every corner warily.

After Sha Zhu's disappearance, the people in the compound were terrified. They had no choice but to organize themselves and increase security. Every night, at least six men remained in the compound, two on guard duty and four patrolling, changing shifts every two hours, and staying on guard until dawn.

But will that be enough to stop Chen Feng?

Nobody knows. Everyone is just clinging to a desperate sliver of hope—maybe, just maybe, they can prevent it.

Chen Feng was squatting in the shadows outside the backyard wall.

He was dressed in all black, his face smeared with coal dust, like a shadow blending into the night. He had been squatting there for half an hour, observing the movements in the yard.

He memorized everything: those on guard duty, those on patrol, those changing shifts, their routes, their times...

The deaf old woman lived in the east wing, the innermost room in the backyard. The room wasn't large, but it had a good location, facing the moon gate of the backyard, from which one could see the entire backyard. This was also why Chen Feng chose to start from the backyard—the front and middle courtyards were too crowded and heavily guarded, while the backyard was relatively relaxed.

Moreover, the deaf old woman must die.

That old woman, though seemingly kind and gentle, was ruthless and cruel behind the scenes. She hired someone to kill him, and if the first attempt failed, she would try again. Chen Feng's anger wouldn't be extinguished until she was dead.

He checked the time: 11:20 PM. The patrol team had just changed shifts; the next shift was at 1:20 AM. There was a two-hour gap in between.

Right now.

Chen Feng stood up and stretched his frozen hands and feet. He walked to the courtyard wall, which was not high, only about two meters high, but because it had been neglected for many years, there were many cracks and protrusions on the wall, making it easy to climb.

Like a gecko, he used both hands and feet to climb up the wall in no time. Once on top, he first observed the situation in the yard.

The backyard was quiet. The light was still on in the deaf old woman's room, but the curtains were drawn, so you couldn't see inside. The other rooms were dark, with only moonlight shining on the floor, making it appear silvery white.

The patrol team just came from the middle yard and is now patrolling the front yard. Following their route, it will take them at least twenty minutes to patrol the front and middle yards and then return to the back yard.

Chen Feng jumped down from the wall, landing silently. He moved quickly along the base of the wall to the outside of the deaf old woman's house.

The door was made of wood, very old, with large gaps. Chen Feng took out a thin blade from his pocket, reached into the gap, and gently moved the latch.

"Click".

With a soft click, the latch opened.

Chen Feng pushed open the door, slipped inside, and then gently closed it again.

The room was dark, with only a sliver of light coming from the inner room. Chen Feng held his breath and listened for a while. There were soft, even breathing sounds from the inner room, as if someone was asleep.

He drew his dagger, gripped it in his hand, and the blade gleamed coldly in the darkness.

He quietly approached the door to the inner room, which was ajar. Chen Feng peered through the crack in the door.

The deaf old woman lay in bed, covered with a blanket, her eyes closed, as if asleep. An oil lamp burned on the bedside table, its small flame barely illuminating the room. A statue of Guanyin sat on the wall, and three sticks of incense burned in the incense burner, wisps of smoke rising gently.

Chen Feng pushed open the door and went inside.

His footsteps were light, like a cat's, almost silent. But just as he reached the bedside and raised the knife, the deaf old woman suddenly opened her eyes.

Those eyes were bright and clear, not at all like someone who had just woken up from a dream.

"You?" The deaf old woman was about to speak when Chen Feng's knife had already plunged down.

The blade pierced his neck precisely, severing his carotid artery. Blood gushed out like a fountain, splattering all over Chen Feng. The deaf old woman's eyes widened, her mouth agape, trying to scream, but she could only utter muffled sounds. Blood oozed from her mouth, flowing down her chin onto the blanket.

Her hands clenched in the air twice before falling limply to her sides. Her eyes were still open, frozen with the terror and bewilderment of death—she never imagined that Chen Feng would find her and, under such tight security, kill her silently.

Chen Feng pulled out his knife and stabbed the old woman in the neck again, making sure she was completely dead. Then he stood by the bed, looking at the deaf old woman's corpse.

This nearly ninety-year-old woman, the "ancestor" who had the final say in the courtyard, now lay on the bed like a dead dog, blood still gushing from the wound on her neck, her eyes wide open, dying with her eyes wide open.

Chen Feng felt no emotion. He simply felt it was the right thing to do.

He pulled a rag from his pocket, wiped the blood off the knife, and then put it away. Now, he needed to find something.

The deaf old woman must have money. The money for hiring the killer was raised from the neighborhood, but what about her own money? An old woman who lived to be almost ninety years old, who had been thrifty all her life, must have had savings.

Chen Feng began searching the house.

I started by looking through the bedside table. In the drawer were some loose change, a few pieces of old jewelry, and a yellowed Buddhist scripture. The money wasn't much, only about ten yuan in total. The jewelry was silver and worthless.

He rummaged through the wardrobe again. Several pieces of clothing hung inside, all old, but of good quality. At the very bottom of the wardrobe, he felt something hard—a small but heavy iron box, locked.

Chen Feng took the iron box out and placed it on the bed. The lock was an old-fashioned brass lock, very sturdy. He tried to pry it open with his dagger, but couldn't. After thinking for a moment, he picked up the deaf old woman's cane from the ground and slammed it against the lock.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

After a few knocks, the lock opened.

Chen Feng opened the iron box. Inside, several items were wrapped in red cloth. He unwrapped the cloth layer by layer, revealing the contents—

Three small yellow croakers! Golden and glistening enticingly under the oil lamp. Each one was as thick as a finger, and weighed at least an ounce each.

Besides the small yellow croakers, there were some silver dollars, about twenty or so. There were also several bankbooks with considerable sums on them, totaling over two thousand dollars.

Chen Feng smiled. Sure enough, this old lady was rich. Three small yellow croakers could be exchanged for over a thousand dollars on the black market. Adding that to his silver dollars and savings account, it would be enough for him to live on for a long time.

He stuffed the small yellow croaker and silver dollars into his pocket, and also took the savings book—even though he couldn't use it, it was better to burn it, so that the money wouldn't fall into other people's hands.

He searched the room again and found a cloth bag under the bed containing a thick wad of cash. He counted it; it was over three hundred yuan. This must have been the money the courtyard had collected for the second time to hire a hitman; the deaf old woman hadn't had a chance to give it to Old Dao yet.

Chen Feng stuffed the money into his pocket. Now he had gold, silver, and money on him, enough for him to fly far away.

But he can't leave yet. There are still many people he hasn't killed.

Yi Zhonghai, Liu Haizhong, Yan Bugui, Liu Guangfu, Yan Jiefang, Jia Zhangshi... and those in the courtyard who contributed money.

Not a single one can be spared.

Chen Feng took one last look at the deaf old woman's body, then turned and left. He went to the outer room and peeked out through the crack in the door. The courtyard was quiet; the patrol team hadn't returned yet.

He pushed open the door, slipped out, and gently closed it again. Then, hugging the wall, he quickly moved to the edge of the courtyard wall and climbed over it.

The whole process took less than ten minutes.

The people in the yard were completely unaware. The patrol team was still wandering around the front yard, and the guards were still dozing off. No one knew that someone had died in the back yard, and their "ancestor" had become a corpse.

At 1 a.m., the patrol team changed shifts.

Liu Guangfu and Yan Jiefang returned to the house, shivering from the cold. They poured themselves some hot water to drink and then prepared to go to sleep.

"Brother Guangfu," Yan Jiefang whispered, "have you heard? The old lady has hired someone again."

Liu Guangfu nodded: "I've heard about it. They've hired five this time, armed with guns."

"Will it work?"

"I don't know," Liu Guangfu shook his head, "I hope it works. Otherwise... we'll all die."

Neither of them spoke. They thought of their brothers—Liu Guangtian was dead, Yan Jiecheng was dead, both killed by Chen Feng. Next, they might be.

Just then, a scream suddenly came from outside.

"ah--!"

The sound came from the backyard; it was the voice of the third aunt, so harsh and shrill it sounded inhuman.

Liu Guangfu and Yan Jiefang exchanged a glance, a sense of foreboding rising in their hearts. They grabbed their sticks and rushed out.

Several people had already gathered in the backyard. The third aunt slumped down in front of the deaf old woman's house, her face pale, pointing into the house, her lips trembling, unable to speak.

"What's wrong?" Liu Guangfu asked.

The old woman pointed inside the house, her voice trembling, "The...the old lady...is dead..."

Liu Guangfu's heart sank, and he rushed into the room. The oil lamp was still lit, and the deaf old woman lay on the bed with two bloody holes in her neck, the blood staining the quilt red. Her eyes were still open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Old lady!" Liu Guangfu exclaimed in surprise.

Yan Jiefang followed in and, upon seeing this scene, his legs went weak and he almost sat down on the ground.

Another one died. That's the eighth.

The people in the courtyard were alarmed and rushed over one after another. Yi Zhonghai was being pushed around by an old woman, Liu Haizhong was heavily pregnant, and Yan Bugui's glasses were askew. Everyone crowded into the room, looking at the corpse on the bed, their faces pale and their bodies trembling.

"Who...who did it?" Liu Haizhong asked in a trembling voice.

Who else could it be? Chen Feng.

But how did Chen Feng get in? There were guards and patrols in the courtyard, the security was so tight, how did he kill someone so quietly and leave so quietly?

"Search! Search the entire hospital!" Yi Zhonghai roared. "He might still be inside!"

But no one dared to move. What if Chen Feng was still in the yard? What if they found him? Should they fight to the death? Could they even win?

In the end, Liu Guangfu and Yan Jiefang, along with a few others, mustered their courage and searched the courtyard. No one was there. Chen Feng had already left.

"Money..." Yan Bugui suddenly remembered something, rushed to the bedside, lifted the covers, and opened the wardrobe. "The money is gone! The money the old lady collected is gone!"

The money he was referring to was the 500-plus yuan that the nursing home had collected for the second time. The deaf old woman said she was going to use it to hire someone, but now the money is gone, and so is she.

"And..." Yi Zhonghai looked at the empty iron box, "The old lady's savings are gone too. The small yellow croakers, the silver dollars, all gone."

A deathly silence fell over the room. Everyone understood—Chen Feng had not only killed people, but also robbed them. Now he was richer, could live longer, and could kill even more people.

"It's over..." Liu Haizhong slumped into a chair, completely deflated. "It's over..."

Yi Zhonghai closed his eyes, his empty right sleeve trembling. Yan Bugui adjusted his glasses, his lips quivering, trying to calculate, but his mind was blank.

The deaf old woman is dead, the money is gone, and the hiring of a murderer has been completely exposed. What to do now? Call the police? What to say? Say they hired someone to kill them, but were killed in return?

Do not call the police. Calling the police would be tantamount to turning yourself in.

But if they don't call the police, Chen Feng will come back. He will kill them all, one by one.

"Bury her," Yi Zhonghai said, opening his eyes, his voice hoarse. "Bury her quietly, don't make a fuss. Just say... the old lady was old and died of illness."

"What about the money?" Yan Bugui asked. "What if the people in the compound ask about it?"

"Just say... just say the old lady used it to hire someone, and she'll return it after the job is done," Yi Zhonghai said. "Let's keep everyone calm and not cause any chaos."

That's the only way. The three of them discussed it and decided to bury the deaf old woman first thing tomorrow morning, without holding a funeral or notifying any relatives, and just bury her quietly.

But everyone in the compound knew it couldn't be kept secret. The deaf old woman was dead, the money was gone, and the murder-for-hire deal fell through. Chen Feng was still outside, like a knife hanging over his head, ready to fall at any moment.

Who will be the next one?

no one knows.

But everyone knows it's coming soon.

Soon.

In a small room behind the restaurant, Chen Feng was counting money.

He had three small yellow croakers, twenty-three silver dollars, over three hundred dollars in cash, and several bankbooks. He carefully wrapped the yellow croakers and silver dollars and hid them in the deepest crevice of the wall. He kept one hundred dollars in cash on him and hid the rest as well.

With this money, he could live a long time and go far away.

But he didn't leave.

He still had things to do.

Yi Zhonghai, Liu Haizhong, Yan Bugui, Liu Guangfu, Yan Jiefang, Jia Zhangshi... and those in the courtyard who contributed money.

Not a single one can be spared.

He took out the dagger and kitchen knife and began sharpening them. The blades were already quite sharp, but he continued sharpening them, stroke by stroke, with great patience.

After sharpening the knife, he checked the pistol. The magazine was full, seven rounds. There were three spare magazines, twenty-one rounds in total. Twenty-eight rounds in total, that should be enough.

But he still preferred using a knife. A knife was quieter and more satisfying.

He put the gun away, lay down on the bed, and closed his eyes.

My mind is calm. The deaf old woman is dead, the money is stolen, and my next plan is already in my head.

Tomorrow, or the day after, he will go find his next target.

Solve them one by one, all at once.

Not a single one will be left.

The night was deep and quiet.

Only the sound of sharpening knives echoed in the quiet little room.

Like some kind of ominous sign.