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

"Yi Zhonghai!"

A deep call sounded behind him, and Yi Zhonghai turned around abruptly.

The alley was deserted, only the moonlight illuminating the ground in a pale white glow. A gust of wind blew, rustling the fallen leaves. No one was there.

Yi Zhonghai's heart tightened, and he quickened his pace in turning his wheelchair. The incident of hiring a thug in the shantytown had left him feeling guilty; he had a nagging feeling that someone was watching him. Perhaps it was just his imagination? Perhaps he was just hearing rumors?

He comforted himself and kept going. But after taking only a few steps, the voice rang out again.

Yi Zhonghai.

This time it's even closer, right behind me.

Yi Zhonghai felt a chill run down his spine. He wanted to turn around, but his neck seemed frozen, unable to move. He wanted to shout, but his throat was dry, and no sound came out.

A cold hand suddenly reached out from behind and covered his mouth. Another hand grabbed the armrest of the wheelchair, pushed and pulled hard, and the entire wheelchair tipped over, and Yi Zhonghai fell to the ground with a "bang".

Before he could react, he was dragged into an abandoned courtyard nearby. The courtyard was small, containing only a half-collapsed mud house, and the ground was overgrown with weeds. Yi Zhonghai was thrown to the ground, dazed and confused, his glasses fell off, and his vision blurred.

A foot was pressed down on his chest with great force, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Old dog Yi, today is your death day."

That voice… Yi Zhonghai trembled. He knew it all too well; for the past few months, that voice had haunted him like a nightmare, haunting the entire courtyard.

Chen Feng.

Yi Zhonghai struggled to lift his head, and by the moonlight, he finally saw the face clearly. It was covered in coal dust, but he recognized the eyes—cold, filled with hatred, like two knives.

"No...I...I..." Yi Zhonghai tried to beg for mercy, but his tongue seemed to be tied in knots, and he couldn't utter a complete sentence.

Chen Feng bent down, looking at the once arrogant face. Yi Zhonghai, an old man in the courtyard, a level eight fitter, whose voice was louder and whose arguments were more numerous than anyone else's. This was the man who took money from Jia Dongxu, tacitly approved the arson, helped frame him, and ruined his entire family.

"Hmph," Chen Feng sneered, "you childless wretch, you're truly ruthless."

The words "childless" pierced Yi Zhonghai's heart like needles. Yes, he was childless, without children, and would have to rely on others for old age. So he desperately saved money, desperately flattered powerful people, and desperately maintained his position in the compound. He would do anything for these things.

"Today, I'll ensure you'll never have to worry about retirement again," Chen Feng said.

He drew a dagger from his pocket, its blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

Yi Zhonghai's eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically: "Chen Feng... listen to me... those things... weren't just my idea... it was Jia Dongxu... it was the deaf old woman... it was them..."

"None of you can escape," Chen Feng interrupted him. "Take it one at a time. You're the first one."

The blade fell.

The first stab wound landed on Yi Zhonghai's left shoulder, not deep, but it caused him to scream in pain. Blood immediately gushed out, staining his clothes red.

"This stab was for my father." Chen Feng's voice was calm. "What were you doing when he was burned to death? You were helping Jia Dongxu cover up the truth."

The second knife pierced his right leg, so deep that the bone was visible. Yi Zhonghai convulsed in pain, tears and snot streaming down his face.

"This stab was for my mother," Chen Feng said. "She was burned to death too, probably screaming for help as she died. Did you hear her?"

The third cut was made to his chest, slicing through his clothes and flesh, but it wasn't fatal. Yi Zhonghai could no longer scream; he could only make "hoarse" sounds.

"This stab is for Xiaoyu." Chen Feng's eyes reddened. "My sister, she's only fifteen. Jia Dongxu said she fell into the moat, is that true? Or did you kill her?"

Yi Zhonghai shook his head desperately, trying to say something, but his mouth was full of blood and foam.

Chen Feng didn't ask any more questions. He raised the knife and aimed it at Yi Zhonghai's neck.

"The final blow," he said, "was for myself. I was framed by you, sent to a labor camp, and my family was destroyed. You were partly responsible for all of this."

The blade slashed down fiercely.

"puff--"

Blood gushed out, splattering all over Chen Feng. Yi Zhonghai's eyes widened, his mouth agape, trying to shout, but he could only gurgle. His body convulsed violently a few times, then went still.

His eyes were still open, frozen with the fear and pain of dying, and a trace of relief—finally, he no longer had to live in fear.

Chen Feng stood there, staring at Yi Zhonghai's body for a long time. Then he squatted down and began to search Yi Zhonghai's body.

He pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket, opened it, and inside was a thick wad of cash; he counted it—over two hundred yuan. There was also a slip of paper with an address and a name written on it: "Wang Mazi, No. 7 Courtyard, West City Shanty Town."

This is the middleman Yi Zhonghai just hired.

Chen Feng carefully put away the note and took the money. He also found a work ID card (which was no longer valid) on Yi Zhonghai, along with some loose change and food coupons.

He took all the valuables, then stood up and took one last look at Yi Zhonghai's body.

The moonlight shone on the corpse, and the once dignified face was now twisted and deformed, covered in blood, like a tattered rag.

Chen Feng turned and left the abandoned courtyard without looking back. He walked into the alley, where Yi Zhonghai's wheelchair was still overturned by the roadside. He righted the wheelchair, pushed it into the courtyard, and threw it next to the body.

Then he walked out of the courtyard and disappeared into the night.

The whole process took less than ten minutes.

No one saw it, no one heard it. This abandoned courtyard is usually deserted; if Yi Zhonghai dies here, it may take a long time for his body to be discovered.

But Chen Feng didn't care. That was exactly the effect he wanted—to kill silently and leave silently. To leave those people dead without knowing why, and the rest living in fear.

Who's next?

Liu Haizhong? Yan Bugui? Or Wang Mazi, the middleman who hired the killer?

Chen Feng thought for a moment and decided to go find Wang Mazi first. That man knew about Yi Zhonghai hiring someone to commit murder, and he might also know about other employers. Besides, keeping such a middleman around would only cause trouble.

He walked toward the shantytown in the west of the city, following the address on the note.

At the same time, in the courtyard.

An elderly woman waited anxiously inside. Yi Zhonghai had said he was going to run some errands and would be back soon, but more than two hours had passed and he was still nowhere to be seen. She was worried, afraid that something had happened to Yi Zhonghai, or that Chen Feng would come looking for him.

But she dared not go out to look for him. It was too dangerous outside; Chen Feng might be waiting in the shadows.

She could only wait, and she was getting restless.

At Liu Haizhong's home, his second aunt was applying medicine to her husband's face. During the fight that afternoon, Liu Haizhong had been punched several times in the face, his nose was bleeding, and his eye was bruised.

"Why are you arguing with Yan Bugui?" the second aunt complained while applying the medicine. "Do you think you can just take that bankbook like that? An old lady's money is too hot to handle!"

Liu Haizhong hissed, wincing in pain: "I was just... I was trying to get some money for the family, you know? We've spent so much money these past few days, we're almost starving."

"You can't just rob someone," the second aunt sighed. "Now look what's happened, we didn't get the money and we've been beaten like this. If Guangfu sees this..."

When Liu Guangfu was mentioned, both of them fell silent. Liu Guangtian was dead, and Liu Guangfu was now absent-minded and silent all day, like a completely different person. They were worried about their youngest son, but didn't know how to comfort him.

"Forget it," Liu Haizhong waved his hand, "Let's move out in a few days. We can't stay in this yard anymore."

"Move? Where to?"

"I'm going back to my hometown," Liu Haizhong decided. "I have a distant relative in Hebei. It's poorer there, but at least it's safe."

Auntie Er nodded without saying a word. She also wanted to move; she'd been thinking about it for a long time. This courtyard now resembled a graveyard; whoever lived there was doomed.

At Yan Bugui's house, the third aunt was crying.

"You almost lost your life for a few bankbooks," the old woman cried as she berated, "You broke your glasses and your face is all bruised. Was it worth it?"

Yan Bugui sat on the bed, his face bruised and battered, his newly fitted glasses cracked again. He gritted his teeth and said, "How could it not be worth it? That's over two thousand yuan! Enough for our family to live on for several years!"

"But what about now? We didn't get the money, and we were beaten like this," the third woman cried even harder. "Jiefang's face is also bruised. How are we supposed to live like this?"

Yan Bugui fell silent. Yes, he hadn't gotten the money and had lost face. The people in the courtyard now looked at him differently, as if he were a thief or a robber.

He recalled the scene of the fight that afternoon—neighbors who usually nodded to each other, tearing each other apart like mad dogs over a few scraps of paper. What about friendship? What about face? In the face of money, they were worthless.

"This courtyard... is no longer safe to stay in," Yan Bugui suddenly said.

"What?" The third aunt looked up.

"Let's move too," Yan Bugui decided. "Back to my hometown, I'll go teach. The salary is low, but at least it'll be stable."

The woman nodded, tears welling up in her eyes again. She wanted to move too; she had wanted to move for a long time.

The other households in the courtyard were also planning to move out. The deaf old woman was dead, and Yi Zhonghai hadn't shown up (they didn't know he was dead yet). The courtyard had lost its leader, and morale had completely collapsed. Plus, Chen Feng was still lurking outside, and nobody wanted to stay and wait to die.

This once bustling courtyard house now exists in name only.

Courtyard No. 7, Chengxi shantytown.

When Chen Feng found this place, it was already 11 p.m. The courtyard was dilapidated, the door was ajar, and a dim yellow light shone from inside.

He observed from outside for a while. The courtyard was quiet, with only one room lit up, and people were talking inside, their voices very low.

Chen Feng quietly pushed open the door and slipped inside. The yard was piled with clutter. He pressed himself against the wall, walked to the lit window, and peered through the gap in the torn window paper.

There were three people inside. One was a short, stout middle-aged man with a birthmark on his face; he must be Wang Mazi. The other two were burly men, both dressed in black, with bulging waistbands, as if they were carrying weapons.

The three men were drinking, with a plate of peanuts and a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) on the table.

"Brother Wang, did that old bastard Yi Zhonghai really pay up?" a burly man asked.

"Here it is," Wang Mazi took a sip of wine, "Two hundred and fifty, deposit. Two hundred and fifty more after the job is done."

"Who is that kid going to kill?"

"Chen Feng," Wang Mazi said, "is that fugitive who's been causing quite a stir lately, killing seven or eight people."

The two burly men exchanged a glance and both laughed.

"Just the three of us?" another burly man asked. "I heard that kid's ruthless, and he has a gun."

"Ruthless? What's so ruthless about that?" Wang Mazi scoffed. "Even if you're ruthless, you're still just one person. There are three of us, and this one too—"

He took out a long knife from under the table; the blade was wide and gleamed coldly.

"See that? A machete. One slice and it's done. He can chop off a head. No matter how skilled he is, can he be more powerful than a machete?"

The two burly men nodded, relieved.

Chen Feng listened outside the window, a cold smile playing on his lips. Three reckless fools, trying to kill him?

He counted them; three people, all inside. Okay, let's take them all.

He quietly retreated and went around to the door. The door wasn't locked; it opened with a gentle push.

The three people inside turned around when they heard the noise. They were all stunned when they saw Chen Feng.

"Who are you?" Wang Mazi asked.

Chen Feng didn't say anything, but pulled out a pistol from his pocket and aimed it at the three men.

"Gun!" a burly man exclaimed, reaching for his weapon, but Chen Feng had already pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The bullet struck the burly man in the chest; he groaned and fell to the ground.

"Ah!" Another burly man was so frightened that he stepped back, but Chen Feng fired his second shot.

"Bang!"

The second bullet hit his head, splattering blood and brain matter all over the wall.

Wang Mazi was terrified, collapsing to the ground, his pants soaked. He looked at Chen Feng, his lips trembling, "Don't...don't kill me...the money...all the money is yours..."

Chen Feng walked over and pointed his gun at him: "Did Yi Zhonghai hire you to kill me?"

"Yes...yes..." Wang Mazi nodded frantically, "He gave me a deposit of two hundred and fifty...and said he'd give me another two hundred and fifty after the deal was done..."

"Who else has hired you?" Chen Feng asked. "Were the three people the deaf old lady hired also introduced by you?"

"It was...it was me..." Wang Mazi said, "But those people...they're all dead...I heard they were burned to death at the local temple..."

"I killed him," Chen Feng said. "Now, it's your turn."

"No...don't kill me..." Wang Mazi cried, "I have money...I'll give you everything..."

He pulled a cloth bag from his pocket, inside which was a thick wad of cash. Chen Feng took it, counted it, and found it was over three hundred yuan.

"Is there anything else?"

"No...that's all..." Wang Mazi said, "That's all..."

Chen Feng nodded and put away the money. Then he raised his gun and aimed it at Wang Mazi's head.

"Wait!" Wang Mazi suddenly said, "I know... I know a secret..."

"What secret?"

"Yi Zhonghai... Yi Zhonghai wasn't the first person to hire me..." Wang Mazi said, panting. "Before... before that, there was another person..."

"Who?"

"Jia Dongxu," Wang Mazi said, "before the fire... he came to me... saying he needed to buy kerosene... and also..."

"What should I buy?"

"Buy...buy a kind of medicine..." Wang Mazi's voice trailed off, "They say...they say it can make people sleep so soundly...they won't wake up..."

Chen Feng's heart sank. Medicine? Medicine that can make someone sleep soundly?

Could it be... could it be that my parents weren't burned to death? Were they poisoned before being burned to death?

"Where did the medicine come from?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"From...from a doctor..." Wang Mazi said, "That doctor's surname was Li...he ran a clinic in the east of the city..."

"Name! Address!"

"Li...Li Jianguo...Yongkang Clinic in the East of the City..."

Chen Feng noted it down. Li Jianguo, Yongkang Clinic.

"Does anyone else know about this?" he asked.

"No...that's all..." Wang Mazi said, "Just me, Jia Dongxu, and that doctor..."

"Fine," Chen Feng said, "you can die now."

"Don't--"

Gunshots rang out.

Wang Mazi's head exploded with a hole, and he fell to the ground, motionless.

Chen Feng stood inside the room, looking at the three corpses, panting heavily. Not because he was tired, but because he was furious.

Medicine. Medicine that can make people sleep very soundly.

Jia Dongxu not only set the fire, but also poisoned it. His parents may not have even woken up; they were burned to death in their sleep.

brute.

Chen Feng gripped his gun tightly, his eyes bloodshot. Li Jianguo, Yongkang Clinic. He had to find this man, get to the bottom of things, and then kill him.

But now, he had to get out of there. The gunfire was too loud; someone would be coming soon.

He quickly searched the three corpses, finding some money and weapons. Then he blew out the lights and quietly left.

It was already 1 a.m. when we got back to the restaurant.

Chen Feng sat in the small room, his mind a jumbled mess. Medicine, Li Jianguo, Yongkang Clinic—these pieces of information tangled around him like a knotted tangle.

But he knew he was getting closer and closer to the truth.

The answers to questions like "How did her parents die?" and "How did Xiaoyu disappear?" may lie in the hands of Li Jianguo.

Tomorrow, he's going to see Li Jianguo.

He needs to rest before that.

Chen Feng lay down and closed his eyes. But he couldn't sleep; his mind was filled with blood, fire, and the faces of his parents and Xiaoyu.

The night was deep and quiet.

The only sounds were the occasional barking of dogs in the distance and the whistling of the wind through the cracks in the windows.

Tomorrow, another massacre will ensue.

But this time, it's for the truth.