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

The two continued walking forward.

As they passed a toy store, Xiaoyu stopped again.

In the shop window was a brown, round teddy bear with a red heart-shaped tag sewn onto its chest.

Xiaoyu looked at it for a few seconds, then pulled Chen Feng away.

Chen Feng glanced back at the bear and memorized the price.

They went up to the third floor.

This floor is all food stalls, one after another, selling fish balls, egg waffles, ice cream. The smell of cooking oil and sweetness mingles together, making people's mouths water.

Xiaoyu stopped in front of an ice cream stand and looked up at the colorful pictures on the wall.

"Brother, I want to eat that."

She pointed to the three-color ice cream ball in the picture—strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate—with a small cookie stick stuck in it.

Chen Feng bought one.

Xiaoyu took it, first licked the strawberry flavor, and squinted her eyes.

"So sweet!"

She scooped up a spoonful, stood on tiptoe, and held it to Chen Feng's lips.

"Brother, you should eat too."

Chen Feng lowered his head and ate it. It was very sweet.

Xiaoyu scooped out another spoonful and ate it herself.

The two people stood by the railing in the corridor, watching the crowds coming and going in the atrium below.

"Brother, do you think I can work here in the future?" Xiaoyu suddenly asked.

Chen Feng looked at her.

"You want to work here?"

Xiaoyu nodded, with ice cream still in her mouth.

"Mmm. This place is so beautiful. When I grow up, I'm going to earn lots and lots of money and buy lots and lots of things for my brother."

Chen Feng didn't say anything.

He just looked at Xiaoyu, at her little face covered in ice cream, and at the crooked plastic crown on her head.

"Okay. Study hard, and you can work wherever you want when you grow up."

Xiaoyu smiled, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

After finishing their ice cream, the two strolled around for a while longer.

Chen Feng bought her a new coat, dark blue, made of very soft material.

I bought a new pair of shoes, black, one size bigger than the ones I'm wearing now.

Xiaoyu, carrying large and small bags, got tired and sat down on a bench in the rest area.

She swung her legs, humming an unknown tune, a song taught at school.

Chen Feng sat next to her, looking at the huge Christmas tree in the atrium—although it was still early for Christmas, the mall had already set it up, covered with colorful lights and decorations, with a golden star at the very top.

"Brother, when are we coming next time?" Xiaoyu asked.

"Come whenever you want."

Xiaoyu leaned against him.

"Brother, you're so kind."

Chen Feng didn't say anything.

He simply sat there, letting Xiaoyu lean against him.

The sunlight shone down from the dome, making it very warm.

---

In the afternoon, in the Southern District of Hong Kong Island.

A shooting club, hidden on a small hillside and surrounded by dense woods, looks like an ordinary private club from the outside.

There was no sign at the entrance, only an iron gate and two uniformed security guards.

Chen Feng had been here many times and had a membership card. It wasn't cheap, but he felt it was worth it.

When Xiaoyu first came, she couldn't even hold the gun steady; her hands were shaking terribly. Now it's different.

The club's basement level is a shooting range, with shooting lanes separated by bulletproof glass.

A faint smell of gunpowder, mixed with the scents of metal and cleaning agents, wafted slowly through the air amidst the low hum of the ventilation system.

The range lights were a cool white, casting a bluish-gray glow on the concrete surface.

Every few meters there was a metal tabletop covered with rubber mats, on which were placed several boxes of bullets and a pair of earmuffs.

On the innermost firing lane, Xiaoyu stood in front of the firing position, her feet shoulder-width apart, holding the revolver in her hands and raising it in front of her eyes.

The gun was a bit too big for her small hands, but she held it very firmly.

She had wiped the gun clean, and it gleamed with a dark metallic sheen under the light.

She was wearing her new dark blue coat, her hair was tied in a ponytail, and the plastic crown had been taken off and carefully placed on the table next to her.

Chen Feng stood behind her, two steps away. He watched her adjust her breathing, her shoulders rising and falling slightly, and then she held her breath.

boom.

The bullet hit the target paper. Seven rings.

Xiaoyu put down her gun and turned to look at Chen Feng. Her little face was full of expectation, her eyes sparkling, like a primary school student waiting for her teacher to grade her.

Chen Feng nodded.

"good."

Xiaoyu laughed, turned around and continued playing.

She was already very skilled at loading the bullets—opening the cylinder, ejecting the spent cartridges, pressing them in one by one, closing the cylinder, and completing the whole process in one smooth motion.

Five shots again.

Thirty-five rings.

On average, seven rings.

Chen Feng stood behind her, watching her shoot.

He remembered the first time she came; she couldn't even pull the trigger, her hands were shaking so badly that she fired one shot and then threw the gun on the table in fright.

Now she can reliably fire a whole box of bullets, and even cleans the gun herself afterward.

"Brother, how did I play today?"

Xiaoyu put down the gun, turned around, and had a fine layer of sweat on her forehead.

"Better than last time."

Chen Feng handed her a towel.

Xiaoyu took it and wiped her face.

"When will I be able to play those big ones?"

She pointed to a rifle in a man's hand on the shooting range next to her, her eyes full of longing.

Chen Feng glanced at it.

"We'll talk about it after you've mastered revolver handling."

Xiaoyu pouted, but didn't ask any more questions.

She knew her brother meant what he said.

She reloaded and continued firing.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

A few seconds passed between each shot as she aimed, adjusted her breathing, and recalled the techniques her brother had taught her—aligning the three points, holding her breath when pulling the trigger, and not rushing to fire the second shot after the first.

Xiaoyu put down the gun and stretched her wrists.

"Tired?"

Chen Feng asked.

Xiaoyu shook her head.

"Not tired."

She loaded her bullets and continued firing.

Chen Feng stood behind her, watching her small figure.

His hands were in his pockets, his fingers unconsciously touching a bullet—a bullet he had casually brought with him, with a brass casing and a copper-jacketed bullet, heavy as a feather.

He put the bullet back in his pocket.

The shooting range lights were bright, shining on Xiaoyu and casting her shadow on the wall behind her.

She stood there, gripping the gun with both hands, holding her breath, and pulled the trigger.

boom.

The bullet pierced the target paper and embedded itself in the rubber shield behind it.

—The Eighth Ring Road.

Xiaoyu turned to look at Chen Feng, a smile playing on her lips.

"Bro, the eighth ring!"

Chen Feng nodded. "I saw it."

Xiaoyu turned back and continued loading ammunition.

Her movements became faster and more stable.

One spent cartridge case after another bounced out and landed on the rubber pad with a crisp clinking sound.

After firing the last shot, she placed the gun on the table, turned around, and sweat streamed down her face.

"Brother, I'm done playing."

Chen Feng walked over and picked up the revolver.

The barrel was still warm, with a faint smell of gunpowder residue.

He checked the cylinder to make sure it was empty, then placed the gun on the table.

"Wipe it off."

He handed him a gun cleaning cloth.

Xiaoyu took it and started wiping it very carefully.

Barrel, cylinder, grip—no part was overlooked.

Chen Feng stood beside her, watching her.

After wiping the gun, Xiaoyu put it back in the box and then put on the plastic crown.

"Brother, shall we go home?"

Chen Feng nodded. "Let's go."

Xiaoyu hugged the gun box to her chest and followed behind him.

The two walked out of the shooting range, through the corridor, up the stairs, and to the main entrance of the club.

The sunlight outside was dazzling, and Xiaoyu squinted.

"Brother, can you come again next week?"

"able."

Xiaoyu smiled.

She carried the box and walked beside Chen Feng, her steps so light they seemed to be flying.

The plastic crown gleamed in the sunlight.

Chen Feng looked at her, his face expressionless, but something was moving in his eyes.

The substance was very faint, like a fish swimming beneath the surface of the water.

He turned his gaze away and looked ahead.

The sun felt warm on my skin.