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

Winter evenings are dark early. Director Wang from the neighborhood committee pushed her bicycle out of a house, a bottle of malted milk powder wrapped in red paper in the basket. A satisfied smile graced her face; this was the third family to give her a gift this month.

When she was first transferred to this neighborhood, she found it troublesome—she had to deal with all the trivial matters in the courtyard houses, whose family was arguing, whose things were stolen. But as time went on, she discovered the tricks of the trade. As long as you knew how to cultivate relationships and how to handle things appropriately, this position could be quite lucrative.

Like this family today, their son wanted to join the army, but the political background check failed. Director Wang spoke up for him, and the matter was resolved. The family was extremely grateful, gave him malted milk powder, and even insisted on giving him twenty yuan. After a few refusals, they accepted it.

Director Wang rode her bicycle home. The streets were deserted, and the streetlights were dim. She thought about what had happened earlier that day—Qin Huairu was dead, and her death was so gruesome. Although Jia Dongxu insisted that Chen Feng was responsible, there was no evidence. The police station had only said they would increase patrols.

Chen Feng...

Director Wang felt a chill run down her spine. She remembered the child's eyes when he was taken away—they were frighteningly cold. She also remembered visiting the Chen family after the fire; the fire was indeed suspicious. But at the time, both Yi Zhonghai and the Jia family claimed it was an accident, and she had received a bribe from Yi Zhonghai, so she treated it as an accident.

Looking back now, wasn't it too hasty?

The bicycle turned into a narrow alley, where it was even darker. Director Wang quickened his pace, eager to get home.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of us!

Director Wang was startled and instinctively gripped the car brakes, shouting, "Hey! Move aside! Move aside!"

But the figure didn't move aside; instead, it strode over. In the dim light, Director Wang could see the face clearly—covered in coal dust, but she recognized the eyes.

It's Chen Feng!

Before she could react, a cold hand grabbed her neck! Then a strong force pulled her off the bicycle, and she fell heavily to the ground!

"Ah!" Director Wang cried out in pain, and his bicycle fell to the side, spilling the malted milk powder from the basket and scattering the red paper.

Chen Feng squatted down, one hand still gripping her neck, not with much force, but enough to make her gasp for breath.

"Where is my sister?" Chen Feng's voice was low and hoarse, like sandpaper being rubbed.

Director Wang trembled all over, his underwear instantly soaked with cold sweat: "Chen Feng, I really didn't know, really! I'm not lying to you!"

"You don't know?" Chen Feng's hand tightened. "On the day of the fire, you went to the courtyard house. What did Yi Zhonghai say to you? What did the Jia family say to you? My sister went missing, how did you handle it?"

"I...I just went to find out what was going on..." Director Wang's voice trembled. "The fire department said the fire started suspiciously, but Yi Zhonghai and the others said it might be due to your parents' improper use of fire...Many people in the compound said that at the time..."

"A lot of people?" Chen Feng sneered. "Who are they?"

"Yi Zhonghai, Liu Haizhong, Yan Bugui, Jia Dongxu, Shazhu..." Director Wang rattled off a string of names, "And...and Xu Damao, Liu Guangtian..."

"Where's my sister?" Chen Feng interrupted her. "Has anyone seen my sister since the fire?"

Director Wang's eyes flickered.

This subtle movement did not escape Chen Feng's notice. His grip tightened again: "Speak!"

"I...I really don't know..." Director Wang said with difficulty, "but...but someone told me..."

"Who? What did you say?"

"Yi Zhonghai..." Director Wang gasped for breath, "He said... he thought he saw someone run out of your house on the night of the fire... it was a little girl..."

Chen Feng's heart skipped a beat: "Did he see Xiaoyu?"

"He...he didn't see clearly and said it looked like a little girl..." Director Wang said, "But at the meeting the next day, he changed his mind and said he was mistaken, it might be a cat..."

"He's lying," Chen Feng said coldly.

"Maybe...maybe..." Director Wang didn't dare look at him. "Chen Feng, please let me go! I really don't know where your sister is! I'm just a neighborhood committee director, I..."

"I'll give you three days." Chen Feng released her, but didn't let her get up. "Find my sister. Alive or dead."

Director Wang collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath: "Three days? How...how am I supposed to find that?"

"That's your problem." Chen Feng stared at her. "Think about what happened to Qin Huairu. If you can't find her, or dare to call the police..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear.

Director Wang's face turned deathly pale, and he nodded repeatedly, "I'll find it! I'll definitely find it! Please don't kill me!"

Chen Feng stood up and looked around. The alley was quiet; no one was passing by. He walked to the bicycle, picked up the bottle of malted milk powder, and then began searching Director Wang's body.

"What...what are you doing?" Director Wang tried to dodge, but didn't dare.

Chen Feng ignored her, took a cloth bag from her pocket, opened it, and found a thick wad of money inside. He counted it; it was a full eighty yuan, along with various grain coupons, cloth coupons, and industrial coupons.

"He's embezzled quite a bit," Chen Feng said coldly, stuffing the cloth bag into his coat.

"That...that's mine..." Director Wang wanted to say something, but seeing Chen Feng's eyes, he swallowed it back.

Chen Feng checked the basket again; there was nothing there except malted milk powder. He thought for a moment and took the malted milk powder too. It could replenish his energy, which was necessary for their escape.

After doing all this, he walked up to Director Wang. Director Wang shrank back in fright: "You...you said you wouldn't kill me..."

"I won't kill you," Chen Feng said, "but remember, three days. If I can't find you, or if you try anything funny..."

He raised his hand and delivered a karate chop to Director Wang's neck. Director Wang was caught off guard; everything went black, and he lost consciousness.

Chen Feng dragged her to a corner and covered her with some tattered cardboard boxes. Then he picked up his bicycle and pushed it out of the alley. He didn't ride it; pushing it would make it less likely to attract attention.

A night wind blew, carrying a biting chill. Chen Feng wrapped his tattered cotton-padded coat tighter and pushed his bicycle through the alleyways. He couldn't go back to the dilapidated house; Director Wang would definitely bring people to search it when he woke up. He needed a new hiding place.

Half an hour later, he arrived at an abandoned factory in the north of the city. It used to be a textile factory, but it moved away a few years ago. The factory buildings were empty and became a gathering place for homeless people and stray dogs.

Chen Feng found a relatively intact workshop and hid the bicycle behind a pile of scrap. Then he found a corner to sit down and took out the cloth bag from his pocket.

By the moonlight, he recounted the money. Eighty yuan was a huge sum in those days. An ordinary worker's monthly salary was only twenty or thirty yuan. Director Wang, a street office director, always carried eighty yuan in his pocket; it was clear how much he had embezzled.

There were also those coupons: 35 jin of grain coupons, 8 feet of cloth coupons, and 3 industrial coupons. These items could be exchanged for money or goods on the black market.

Chen Feng carefully put away the money and tickets, then opened the bottle of malted milk powder. The yellowish-brown powder smelled milky. He carefully poured a little into his palm, licked it, and found it sweet and milky. He hadn't eaten anything this delicious in a long time.

But he didn't eat much; he only took two bites before closing the lid. This stuff should be used sparingly; it could be a lifesaver in a pinch.

After doing all this, Chen Feng leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

My mind is a mess.

Director Wang said Yi Zhonghai saw Xiaoyu? On the night of the fire, someone ran out of the Chen family's house? Was it Xiaoyu? She ran out? Where is she now?

If Xiaoyu is still alive, why hasn't she shown up for so long? If she's dead, where is her body?

And Director Wang, will he really go to look for him? Or will he turn around and call the police?

Chen Feng opened his eyes, his gaze icy. Calling the police was useless; the police station was probably searching the entire city for him. Adding another charge of assaulting the neighborhood committee director made little difference. He was already a fugitive, with a life on his hands; one more charge wouldn't matter.

But Director Wang probably wouldn't dare call the police. She must have heard about Qin Huairu's death, and she didn't want to be the next one.

Chen Feng closed his eyes again, forcing himself to sleep. He needed to conserve his energy and keep a clear head. For the next three days, he would keep an eye on Director Wang to see if she would actually go looking for her, and if so, what she might find.

And what about those people in the courtyard house? Qin Huairu is dead; they must be terrified. Who will be next? Jia Dongxu? Yi Zhonghai? Or…?

A cold smile appeared on Chen Feng's lips.

Don't rush, take it one at a time.

At the same time, Director Wang slowly woke up in the corner.

A sharp pain shot through the back of her neck, and her head was ringing. It took her several seconds to remember what had happened—Chen Feng! Chen Feng had attacked her! He had stolen her money and belongings!

Director Wang tried to stand up, but her legs were too weak, and she could only manage to sit up after several attempts. She touched her neck, where the sensation of Chen Feng's fingers still lingered—cold, strong, like iron clamps.

"Three days..." she murmured to herself, her whole body trembling.

Chen Feng gave her three days to find his sister. If she couldn't find her, she should think about what happened to Qin Huairu.

Director Wang shuddered. She had seen Qin Huairu's body today; it was a gruesome sight. Each wound was so brutal—how much hatred must have driven her to commit those acts?

If Chen Xiaoyu cannot be found, will she become like that too?

Director Wang leaned against the wall to stand up and staggered out of the alley. Her bicycle was gone; Chen Feng had ridden it away. She had no choice but to walk home.

Her mind was in complete turmoil the whole way.

Call the police? Absolutely! Chen Feng is a fugitive; he assaulted and robbed her. We have to call the police!

But what happens after the police are called? Chen Feng will know it was her who called the police. That madman will definitely retaliate. Can the police station protect her 24 hours a day? Impossible.

Moreover… Director Wang recalled the benefits he had received: the money from Yi Zhonghai, the cloth coupons from the Jia family, and gifts from other families. If Chen Feng's matter escalated and the higher-ups investigated, all of these things would be exposed. At that point, not only would he lose his position as director, but he might even go to jail.

Do not call the police.

Not at least not now.

When Director Wang returned home, her husband was already asleep. She tiptoed into the house, didn't turn on the light, and sat down in the dark.

Three days. She only has three days.

How do we find Chen Xiaoyu? It's been over a month since the fire; if she were still alive, she should have shown up by now. If she's dead… where is her body?

Director Wang recalled the words Yi Zhonghai had said to her back then.

"Director Wang, the fire at the Chen family's house is suspicious, but everyone in our compound thinks it was an accident. What do you think, should we just treat it as an accident? The Chen family members are all gone, and no one will investigate the house burning down."

Yi Zhonghai slipped her an envelope containing fifty yuan. She accepted it, and the matter was treated as an accident.

Looking back now, why was Yi Zhonghai so eager to classify the fire as an accident? What was he hiding?

And then there's Chen Xiaoyu. Yi Zhonghai said he thought he saw someone running out of the Chen family home on the night of the fire; it was a little girl. But the next day he said he was mistaken.

Did he see it or not?

Director Wang grew increasingly frightened. If Yi Zhonghai had indeed seen Chen Xiaoyu but deliberately concealed it, what did that mean? Did it mean Chen Xiaoyu's disappearance might be related to Yi Zhonghai? Or even... related to that fire?

She dared not think about it.

But Chen Feng gave her an ultimatum. If she couldn't find Chen Xiaoyu in three days, she would become the next Qin Huairu.

Director Wang gritted his teeth and made a decision.

Tomorrow, I'm going to see Yi Zhonghai. I need to find out exactly what he knows. I have to get it out of him, no matter what method I have to use.

She stood up and walked to the mirror. The person in the mirror was deathly pale, with undisguised fear in their eyes.

"Calm down, calm down," Director Wang told himself. "There are still three days. We'll definitely find a way."

But the person in the mirror seemed to have already seen their own end.

In the abandoned factory, Chen Feng suddenly opened his eyes.

He had a dream about Xiaoyu. In the dream, Xiaoyu was covered in blood and was calling out to him from the fire: "Brother, save me... Brother..."

Chen Feng sat up, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

The night was still deep, and the workshop was pitch black except for the moonlight shining in through the broken windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

He pulled the sickle from his pocket and held it in his hand. The cold touch calmed him down a little.

"Xiaoyu, where are you?" he whispered. "Tell your brother where you are?"

There was no answer, only the mournful sound of the wind whistling through the broken window.

Chen Feng stood up, walked to the workshop door, and looked out through the crack in the door. There was no one outside, only ruins under the moonlight, like a tomb.

He returned to the corner and sat down again. This time he didn't sleep; he kept his eyes open until dawn.

As dawn broke, Chen Feng ate some malted milk powder and drank some water. Then he took out the money he had stolen from Director Wang, took out five yuan, and carefully hid the rest.

He needed to go to the black market to buy some things: food, water, and… a more suitable weapon. The sickle was useful, but not fast enough. He needed a knife, a real knife.

Chen Feng checked his appearance. A tattered cotton-padded jacket, a dirty face—he looked like a homeless person. As long as he didn't attract attention, he should be fine.

He quietly left the abandoned factory and took a detour to the black market in the west of the city.

As the sun gradually rises, the city awakens. People begin to move about the streets, and the sounds of bicycle bells and shouts fill the air, bringing with them the vibrant energy of daily life.

Chen Feng kept his head down, blending into the crowd. He watched those rushing to work, those queuing to buy breakfast, and a feeling of unfamiliarity welled up inside him.

A month ago, he was one of these people. Every morning he would get up, eat, go to get off work, come home. Ordinary, but stable.

Now, he is a fugitive, a murderer, and a shadow in the city's dark corners.

But he doesn't regret it.

If he could do it all over again, he would still do it. Those people destroyed his home, hurt his parents, and lost his sister. They must pay the price.

Chen Feng gripped the sickle hidden in his sleeve and continued walking forward.

The black market was located in an alley in the west of the city. On the surface, it was a secondhand market, but in reality, it sold everything: grain coupons, cloth coupons, industrial coupons, and even some items of dubious origin.

As Chen Feng walked into the alley, several sharp-eyed people immediately surrounded him.

"Brother, what do you want?"

"Grain coupons are available and are valid nationwide."

"Want a watch? Shanghai brand, cheap."

Chen Feng lowered his voice: "I need a knife."

The group exchanged glances, and one of the tall, thin men said, "Come with me."

The tall, thin man led Chen Feng into a courtyard and took out a dagger from inside the house. The dagger wasn't long, but the blade was very sharp and gleamed coldly.

"Ten dollars," the tall, thin man said.

Chen Feng took the dagger, tested its feel, and found it very comfortable to handle. He didn't haggle, pulling out five yuan: "Only five yuan."

The tall, thin man hesitated for a moment, then took it anyway: "Alright, you seem like a straightforward person. Is there anything else you need?"

"Food and a water bottle."

The tall, thin man brought over a few more hard flatbreads and a military water bottle: "Three more, please."

Chen Feng pulled out three more yuan. He had money now, but he couldn't flaunt it. After buying the goods, he immediately left the black market.

Back at the abandoned factory, Chen Feng put the newly bought dagger and sickle together. Two knives, one long and one short, should be enough.

He broke the hard bread in half and ate a few bites with water. The bread was hard, but it filled his stomach.

After finishing his meal, Chen Feng leaned against the wall and began planning his next move.

He needs to keep an eye on Director Wang's side. He also needs to keep an eye on the courtyard house.

And... Yi Zhonghai.

Chen Feng recalled what Director Wang had said: Yi Zhonghai might have met Xiaoyu. If he really had, then Yi Zhonghai must know something.

Perhaps he should ask Yi Zhonghai himself.

Chen Feng's eyes turned cold.

Yes, I'll go ask him myself. I'll hold this newly bought dagger to his neck and ask him.

He glanced at the sky; it was still early. He waited until nightfall, until it was deep and quiet.

Chen Feng closed his eyes to conserve his energy.

Tonight, he's going back to the courtyard house.

He wanted those people to know that Qin Huairu's death was just the beginning.