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

"This is my house!"

Yan Bugui snatched the bankbooks from the auxiliary police officer's hand, his eyes behind his glasses gleaming with greed. He clutched the bankbooks tightly in his hand, as if they were his lifeblood.

Liu Haizhong was stunned for a moment, then reacted, his chubby face turning bright red: "Old Yan! What did you say?! What do you mean yours? I picked this up at the gate! How did it become yours?"

"Exactly!" a middle-aged man nearby shouted, "Everyone picked this up, why should you take it all by yourself?"

The people in the courtyard were alerted and came out of their houses one after another. Liu Guangfu, Yan Jiefang, Auntie Yi, Auntie Er, Auntie San, and a few other residents who hadn't moved out all gathered around. Their eyes gleamed as they looked at the bankbook in Yan Bugui's hand.

The deaf old woman's bankbook. Eight hundred in a current account, one thousand two hundred in a fixed deposit, and over three hundred in regular savings accounts. A total of over two thousand three hundred yuan, an astronomical sum in those days. Enough for a family to live comfortably for several years.

These past few days, the people in the compound have been racking up money—once for hiring a murderer, once for the funeral, and now they need to raise a third. Every household is practically bankrupt, barely scraping by. Now, with such a large sum of money suddenly appearing, who wouldn't be envious?

Yan Bugui tucked the bankbook into his pocket and said matter-of-factly, "I found this bankbook at the gate of the courtyard. The gate is near the front yard, and the front yard is where my family lives, so naturally it belongs to my family! Whoever finds it keeps it; that's the rule!"

"Bullshit!" Liu Haizhong trembled with rage. "What kind of bullshit rules are these! We all picked this up together, so if we're going to divide it, we should all divide it together!"

"Yes! Let's split it together!" someone echoed.

"Yan Bugui, you want to take it all for yourself? No way!"

"Give me the money!"

The anger that had been suppressed for several days exploded like a powder keg. The people in the courtyard surrounded Yan Bugui, each hurling insults at him, almost drowning him in their spittle.

Yan Bugui, clutching the bankbook, took two steps back, but still wouldn't back down: "What do you want? Trying to rob me? Is there no law anymore?"

"The law?" Liu Haizhong sneered. "Yan Bugui, you actually know what the law is? When you hired someone to kill someone, why didn't you think about the law? Now that you want to keep the money for yourself, you suddenly remember the law?"

These words struck a nerve. Although no one had spoken aloud about the hired murder in the courtyard, everyone knew the truth. Now that Liu Haizhong had brought it up in front of so many people, everyone's expression changed.

"You...you're talking nonsense!" Yan Bugui's face turned deathly pale. "What hired murder? I know nothing about it!"

"Don't know?" Yi Zhonghai, sitting in a wheelchair, was pushed over by an older woman. His voice was hoarse. "Old Yan, now that things have come to this, stop pretending. The old lady hired someone to kill her. The money was raised by everyone in the neighborhood, and the matter was decided by everyone together. Now that the old lady is dead and the money is gone, this bankbook... is the old lady's estate, and it should be disposed of jointly by everyone in the neighborhood."

Yi Zhonghai's words sounded grand, but the meaning was clear—the money couldn't be taken by Yan Bugui alone; it had to be shared among everyone.

Yan Bugui became agitated: "Yi Zhonghai, stop pretending to be a good guy! You were the one who came up with the idea of ​​hiring a killer, you were the one who took the money, and now you want a share? No way! I found this bankbook, so it's mine!"

"Yours?" Liu Haizhong stepped forward and reached out to snatch it. "Give it to me!"

"You dare!" Yan Bugui dodged backward, but Liu Haizhong's hand had already grabbed the corner of the passbook. The two of them struggled, one grabbing and the other protecting.

"Old Yan, let go!" Liu Haizhong roared.

"I won't let go! This is mine!" Yan Bugui held on tightly.

The two men wrestled like two wild dogs fighting over food. Yan Bugui was thin, while Liu Haizhong was fat, but Yan Bugui held onto the savings book tightly and wouldn't let go, so Liu Haizhong couldn't snatch it away for a while.

Those around watched, but no one tried to dissuade or pull them away. Everyone stared at the bankbooks, their eyes blazing with anger. The shock of the past few days, the money lost, the deaths of loved ones—all the pent-up frustration and rage erupted in that moment.

"Grab it!" someone shouted.

The crowd surged forward with a "whoosh." Liu Guangfu rushed forward to help his father, grabbing Yan Bugui's arm and pulling him backward. Yan Jiefang hesitated for a moment, then rushed forward to help his father, and the two wrestled with Liu Guangfu.

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!" The three women cried out, trying to break up the fight, but they were pushed aside by the crowd.

"My money! My money!" Yan Bugui was still shouting, but his voice had been drowned out.

The courtyard was in complete chaos. Men were fighting, women were screaming, and children were crying. The dull thuds of fists hitting flesh, curses, and cries mingled together, like an absurd farce.

Yi Zhonghai sat in his wheelchair, watching this scene, his face ashen. He wanted to shout, to stop it, but no one listened to him. He was now a cripple, his right hand gone, and his authority gone. The people in the compound no longer treated him like a lord.

"Stop fighting! All of you, stop!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, but his voice was hoarse and was quickly drowned out by the noise.

Liu Haizhong finally managed to snatch the passbook from Yan Bugui's arms. But before he could get a firm grip on it, another hand reached out from the side—it was the middle-aged man—and snatched it away.

"Give it to me!" The middle-aged man took the bankbook and turned to run away.

"Stop!" Liu Guangfu released Yan Jiefang and lunged forward to hug the middle-aged man's leg.

The middle-aged man stumbled and fell to the ground. The passbook flew out of his hand, scattering in the air, with several pieces of paper drifting and landing on the ground.

"Mine!" Several people pounced on it at the same time, like hungry wolves pouncing on their prey.

"Don't grab it! Don't grab it!"

"be mine!"

"Get out of here!"

Fists, feet, teeth—they used everything. Neighbors who normally greeted each other with a nod were now fighting like enemies over a few bankbooks. Faces were bruised, clothes were torn, and blood splattered on the ground, mixed with dirt, making a filthy mess.

Yan Bugui was pushed to the side of the crowd, his glasses were knocked off, and his face was covered in bruises. He crawled on the ground, groping for his glasses, shouting, "My bankbook! My bankbook!"

Liu Haizhong wasn't in much better shape; his clothes were torn open, he'd taken several punches to the face, and his nose was bleeding. He was panting heavily, his eyes fixed on the few pieces of paper in the middle of the crowd.

Yi Zhonghai closed his eyes, unable to bear watching any longer. He knew this courtyard was finished. The people's hearts were scattered, and they could never be reunited. Even if Chen Feng didn't come to kill them, they would torment themselves to death.

"Stop! All of you, stop!"

Suddenly, a roar came from the courtyard gate.

It was those two auxiliary police officers. They had been pushed aside earlier, and only now did they realize what was happening, so they rushed in with their guns raised.

"Bang!" A member of the joint defense team fired a shot into the air.

The gunshots were deafening. Everyone froze, stopped what they were doing, and turned to look at the courtyard gate.

"Stand still, all of you!" the security guard roared. "Anyone who moves, I'll shoot!"

The crowd slowly dispersed, revealing the ground in the middle. The bankbooks were crumpled and covered in mud and blood.

Liu Guangfu lay on the ground, clutching his stomach and groaning. Yan Jiefang had several bloody scratches on his face. The middle-aged man sat on the ground, panting heavily. The others who had participated in the fight were also injured, their faces bruised and swollen.

"What happened?" the security guard asked. "Why are you fighting?"

No one spoke. Everyone kept their heads down, not daring to look the security guards in the eye. Neither the hired murder nor the bankbook robbery could be mentioned.

Yi Zhonghai opened his eyes and struggled to stand up from his wheelchair (actually, an older woman was helping him). He took a deep breath and said, "Comrade, it's nothing, just... just a small conflict, it's been resolved."

"A minor conflict?" The security guard was skeptical. "Does a minor conflict warrant gunfire? If I hadn't fired, you would have killed someone!"

He walked to the middle, picked up the bankbooks, and looked at them: "What are these? Whose are they?"

Still, no one spoke.

"Not going to talk?" The auxiliary police officer sneered. "Fine, then I'll take you back and hand you over to the police station. Let the police investigate."

"No!" Yan Bugui suddenly shouted, "That's...that's mine!"

"Yours?" the security guard asked, looking at him. "How can you prove it?"

"I..." Yan Bugui was speechless. How could he prove it? Say he found it at the gate? That would be admitting he found something and didn't turn it in?

Yi Zhonghai quickly said, "Comrade, this bankbook... belongs to an old lady in our compound. The old lady passed away a few days ago, and this is her estate. We were discussing how to handle it, and then... we started arguing."

This statement is half true and half false, but it sounds reasonable.

The security guard looked at the name on the bankbook: "Zhang Cuihua? Who's that?"

"It was that old lady in our compound," Yi Zhonghai said. "She was over eighty years old and died a few days ago."

The security guard thought for a moment, then returned the bankbook to Yi Zhonghai: "Since it's an inheritance, handle it properly and don't fight. If you cause any more trouble, I'll take you all away!"

"Yes, yes, yes, we will definitely handle it properly." Yi Zhonghai nodded repeatedly.

The joint defense team members gave them a few more words of instruction before leaving the yard.

The people in the courtyard looked at each other in silence. The frenzy from before had subsided, leaving only embarrassment and lingering fear. A few bankbooks had almost resulted in a death, and the neighborhood security team had witnessed it. If word got out, no one would look good.

Yi Zhonghai held the passbook, looked around at the people, and sighed, "Everyone, go home. This passbook... I'll keep it for now, and we'll deal with it after we've discussed it."

No one objected. After that commotion, no one dared to mention dividing the money again. Everyone silently turned around and went home.

Liu Haizhong glared at Yan Bugui, then turned and left. Yan Bugui picked up his broken glasses from the ground, put them on, and limped back into the house. Liu Guangfu and Yan Jiefang exchanged glances and silently left as well.

The courtyard quickly returned to silence, with only the bloodstains and tattered cloth on the ground as evidence of what had just happened.

In a small room behind the restaurant, Chen Feng was preparing for his operation that night.

He pulled the gun and magazine from the crack in the wall and checked them again. The gun was new, and the magazine was full. He tucked the gun into his waistband, put the dagger in his boot, wrapped the kitchen knife in cloth, and stuffed it into his pocket.

He's going to the local temple tonight. Whether anyone else is going or not, he has to go and see it.

But before that, he needed to know the situation at the courtyard house. What would their reaction be if he threw the bankbook over? Would a fight break out? Would they call the police?

He decided to go and take a look around the neighborhood.

As evening approached, Chen Feng went out. He circled around to the alley where the courtyard house was located and hid at a corner to observe.

The courtyard was quiet, almost silent. But on the ground near the gate, there were several dark red marks—bloodstains. Although covered by soil, they were still visible.

It seems a fight has broken out.

A cold smile curled at the corner of Chen Feng's lips. Sure enough, those people would do anything for money. Neighborly affection, solidarity, and mutual assistance—they were worthless in the face of profit.

That's fine. If they panic first, it'll be easier for him to make his move.

He was about to leave when he suddenly saw the courtyard gate open. Yi Zhonghai, sitting in a wheelchair, was pushed out by an older woman. Both of them looked grave as they hurried toward the alley entrance.

Chen Feng immediately became alert and quietly followed.

Yi Zhonghai and the older woman walked to the entrance of the alley, paused, looked left and right, and then turned into another alley. Chen Feng followed, keeping his distance.

The two walked in a hurry, as if they were going to take care of something important. Chen Feng guessed that they were probably going to the bank or to find someone to deal with their passbooks.

After walking for a while, Yi Zhonghai suddenly stopped and said a few words to an older woman. The woman nodded, turned around, and walked back. Yi Zhonghai continued walking alone.

Chen Feng hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with Yi Zhonghai. The old woman was just a woman and posed no threat. Although Yi Zhonghai had lost an arm, he was still an elder in the compound and knew a lot.

Yi Zhonghai walked quickly, but his wheelchair bounced violently on the dirt road. He looked back every now and then, very alert. Chen Feng followed him furtively, hiding and trying to keep up.

After walking for about twenty minutes, Yi Zhonghai arrived at a shantytown in the west of the city. The houses here were low, the streets were narrow, garbage was everywhere, and the air was filled with a sour stench.

Chen Feng's heart sank. What was Yi Zhonghai doing here? This place didn't look like a bank, nor did it seem like a place where passbooks could be processed.

Yi Zhonghai stopped in front of a dilapidated courtyard and knocked on the door. The door opened, and a short, stout middle-aged man with a birthmark on his face came out. The two spoke a few words in hushed tones, and then Yi Zhonghai took something out of his pocket and handed it over—money.

The middle-aged man took the money, counted it, nodded, and turned to go back into the house. After a while, he took out a small cloth bag and handed it to Yi Zhonghai.

Yi Zhonghai opened the cloth bag, looked inside, put it in his pocket, and then turned and left.

Chen Feng watched this scene from the shadows. He guessed it—Yi Zhonghai was hiring someone. The money might have been withdrawn from a savings account, or it might have been collected from the courtyard. He was hiring someone to kill him again.

good very good.

Chen Feng watched Yi Zhonghai's departing figure with a cold gaze.

It seems these people haven't learned their lesson. The deaf old woman died, their money was stolen, and they still haven't given up; they're even trying to hire more people.

Then don't blame him for being impolite.

Chen Feng turned and walked towards the Earth God Temple. He needed to deal with tonight's events first, and then settle accounts with these people later.

Not a single one will be left.

Night deepened.

The slaughter is about to begin.