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

The moat shimmered with a dark ripple under the moonlight, like a black ribbon winding through the sleeping city. Weeds grew rampant on the banks, and the shadows of a few crooked willows swayed gently on the water's surface.

Chen Feng hid behind a waist-high earthen slope, his body covered with withered grass and branches, only his eyes showing.

He has been lying here for two hours.

From one to three in the morning, the moat was eerily quiet. There were no people lying in ambush, no suspicious movements, not even a stray cat or dog. The only sounds were the rustling of the wind through the reeds and the occasional train whistle in the distance.

It's too quiet, abnormally quiet.

Chen Feng's hand remained firmly on the gun handle, his index finger lightly resting on the trigger guard, ready to fire at any moment. This was an instinct honed during his two months on the run—never letting his guard down, no matter how safe the surroundings seemed.

The wound on his right shoulder began to throb again, but he forced himself to ignore it. He leaned forward slightly, his ears catching every tiny sound.

No. Nothing at all.

Did we misjudge the situation? Did the person who set the trap not show up? Or did they change locations?

Chen Feng quickly reviewed the situation in his mind. Old Sun was dead, leaving behind the character "Chen" at the scene, and news spread in the black market that Xiao Yu was by the moat—all of this pointed to a meticulously designed trap. The purpose was to lure him out.

But if the other party has set a trap, why not stand guard near it?

Unless... the other party doesn't know when he will arrive, or the other party has other plans.

Chen Feng glanced at his pocket watch—3:20 AM. Dawn was approaching.

We can't wait any longer. After dawn, people will come here—elderly people doing their morning exercises, women washing clothes, and possibly police officers on patrol.

He moved slowly backward, as lightly as a cat. With each step, he first tested the ground with his hand to make sure there were no dry branches or leaves that would make a sound. After moving out of the cover of the embankment, he quickly crouched down and retreated along the path he had trodden earlier.

He walked very carefully, choosing only shady spots and avoiding areas directly exposed to moonlight. At each corner or fork in the road, he would stop to observe and make sure it was safe before proceeding.

When I returned to the courtyard in Tofu Alley, the sky was already beginning to lighten.

Chen Feng climbed over the back wall and landed silently. He didn't go inside immediately, but first checked the yard—the door latch was in the same position, there were no new footprints on the windowsill, everything was the same as when he left.

Safety.

He then pushed the door open and went inside, locking the door behind him.

The main room was dimly lit. Chen Feng didn't light a lamp, but groped his way to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and sat down to think.

The other party didn't come. Why is that?

There are two possibilities: First, he misjudged the situation, and it wasn't a trap, but just a coincidence; second, the other party came but didn't show up, waiting for a better opportunity.

Chen Feng leaned more towards the second possibility. Killing Old Sun, framing him, and releasing the news about Xiao Yu—this series of actions was intricately linked and couldn't be a coincidence. The person who orchestrated this must have had a purpose, and that purpose was themselves.

Why didn't the other side ambush us by the moat?

Unless... the other party doesn't know when he'll receive the news or when he'll go. Or, the other party wants to wait until he finds Xiaoyu first before making a move.

Or perhaps, the other party simply didn't expect him to receive the news so quickly.

Chen Feng recalled the two young men who had come to deliver the message. Skinny Monkey had sent them; the news had spread from the black market. The mastermind probably thought the news wouldn't reach his ears for a day or two, but unexpectedly, Scarface Wang's men came knocking on his door that very night.

If that's the case, then the other party probably didn't go to the moat tonight, but was waiting for the news to spread.

A cold smile crept across Chen Feng's lips. Unbeknownst to them, he now had control of Wang Dali's forces, and the news had spread faster than they had anticipated.

But this raises a question—who is the other party?

Director Wang's family? Possibly. But if it were them, they should be even more eager for revenge, not so patient.

An accomplice of Yi Zhonghai? That's possible.

Or... are they the enemies in the courtyard who are still alive?

Chen Feng stood up and paced in the darkness. His mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts, like a tangled mess.

He needs more information.

After daybreak, we need to send Skinny Monkey and the others to inquire whether anyone in the black market has been paying special attention to Chen Feng and Chen Xiaoyu's news lately. Also, we need to find out the exact time of Old Sun's death and who first leaked the news.

These all take time.

What he lacks most right now is time. The police are searching for him, his enemies are looking for him, and Xiaoyu is missing—every minute feels like walking a tightrope.

Chen Feng lay down on the kang (a heated brick bed) and closed his eyes. He needed rest, even if it was just for two hours. His body was nearing its limit; without rest, his wounds would have a hard time healing completely.

But my mind wouldn't stop. The thought that Xiaoyu might be by the moat, and the enemies lurking in the shadows…

He forced himself to take deep breaths and slowly relax his muscles. This was a technique he had learned at the labor camp—the more tense you are, the more you need to control your body and stay calm.

Gradually, my breathing calmed down. The pain in my right shoulder also seemed to lessen somewhat.

He fell asleep.

---

At the same time, in an ordinary bungalow in the west of the city.

Zhao Jianguo sat at the table, wiping his pistol by the light of a kerosene lamp. His movements were slow and meticulous, as if he were performing a sacred ritual.

Wang Qiang sat opposite him, rubbing his hands nervously.

"Brother, are we really not going to the moat tonight?" he asked in a low voice. "What if Chen Feng goes?"

"What good would it do if we went?" Zhao Jianguo didn't even look up. "With just the two of us, can we guarantee a kill with one shot? Chen Feng has killed so many people, he must be extremely alert. If we rashly go to ambush him, we might just get killed instead."

"Then...what's the point of setting this up?"

"It'll work," Zhao Jianguo finally finished cleaning the gun and putting the parts back together. "First, kill Old Sun and frame Chen Feng, so that the people in the black market will hate him. Second, spread the news about Chen Xiaoyu to lure Chen Feng to the moat. But we won't act immediately; let the news spread for a couple of days."

He pulled back the slide to check the bolt's operation: "Once everyone in the black market knows that Chen Feng killed Old Sun and wants revenge, we'll spread the word that Chen Feng will go to the moat tonight to find his sister. At that time, we won't even need to lift a finger; someone else will kill him."

Wang Qiang's eyes lit up: "Using someone else to do the dirty work?"

"Yes," Zhao Jianguo sneered, "We just need to watch from a distance, wait for them to be weakened, and then go down to finish them off. That way we get our revenge without exposing ourselves."

"Brilliant!" Wang Qiang said admiringly, "But... will Chen Feng believe the news that Xiao Yu was by the moat?"

"Whether he believes it or not is not important," Zhao Jianguo said. "As long as he is worried about his sister's safety, he will definitely go and check. That's human nature—knowing it might be a trap, but because he cares, he will still take the risk."

Wang Qiang nodded, but then remembered something: "Brother, what about Old Sun's side... will the police find out about us?"

"No," Zhao Jianguo said confidently. "The scene was staged to look like a robbery and murder. The money was taken, and the house was ransacked. The 'Chen' character on the ground will definitely lead the police to Chen Feng. The whole city is searching for him now. One more life or one less life makes no difference."

He paused, then continued, "Even if the police have suspicions, they have no evidence. We have alibis for last night—I was home, and my neighbors can testify. You were on duty at the transport team, and that's also something they can vouch for."

Wang Qiang breathed a sigh of relief: "That's good."

"However," Zhao Jianguo changed the subject, "we need to keep a low profile these next two days. Don't go to the black market to inquire about anything, and don't mention Chen Feng to anyone. Just act like nothing happened, go to work as usual, and live your life as usual."

"clear."

Zhao Jianguo tucked the loaded gun back into his waistband, stood up, and walked to the window. The sky outside was just beginning to lighten; a new day had begun.

"Magnolia," he murmured to himself, "just wait a little longer, and I'll avenge you soon."

The voice was soft, but the hatred within it was so intense it was impossible to ignore.

Wang Yulan, his wife, was the director of the neighborhood committee. Two months ago, she died at home; her throat had been slit, and blood stained half the living room. When he returned home, his wife was already dead, her eyes wide open, as if she couldn't believe it.

That image appeared in his dreams every night for the past two months.

Chen Feng must die. Not only must he die, but he must die painfully and in despair.

Zhao Jianguo clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms, drawing blood, but he felt no pain.

The hatred in my heart is a thousand times stronger than this pain.

---

8:00 AM, Public Security Bureau.

Officer Zhang frowned deeply as he looked at the on-site report on the table.

"Old Sun, 58 years old, a coachman at the inn in the north of the city. He was murdered around 10 p.m. last night. The cause of death was a stab wound to the abdomen and excessive blood loss. There were signs of a struggle at the scene, and all his belongings were stolen. The preliminary judgment is that it was a robbery and murder."

He read this far and looked up: "But there was a character 'Chen' on the ground, written in the blood of the dead, and it wasn't finished."

The office was filled with smoke. Several veteran police officers were smoking, their faces grave.

"Is it Chen Feng again?" a young police officer asked.

"It's too obvious," the old policeman shook his head. "The scene was set up like a robbery, but they deliberately left the character 'Chen,' as if it was intentionally pointing to Chen Feng. This doesn't fit Chen Feng's usual style—he kills people swiftly and decisively, rarely leaving such obvious clues."

Officer Zhang nodded: "I think so too. Chen Feng killed seventeen people, and each time he was very clean, either killing them with a single stab or a shot to the head. Afterwards, he either cleaned up the scene or quickly left. This is the first time he's left behind blood-written words like this."

"Could it be a copycat crime?" another police officer suggested. "Is someone trying to use Chen Feng's name to commit crimes?"

"Possibly," said Officer Zhang, "but what would the motive be? Old Sun was just a cart driver, with little money and no enemies. Who would kill him and frame Chen Feng?"

The office fell silent. Everyone was deep in thought.

"Investigate Old Sun's social connections," ordered Officer Zhang. "Especially in the last two months, who he's been in contact with, and whether there's anything unusual."

"We're already investigating," said the police officer in charge of the scene investigation. "Neighbors said that Old Sun hadn't seemed unusual lately, but he seemed preoccupied and often spaced out by himself. Two months ago, he went missing for a day and returned looking very unwell, but he wouldn't say anything when asked."

"Two months ago?" Officer Zhang astutely seized on this point in time. "Which day exactly?"

Around June 12th.

June 12th—Zhang Gong'an's mind raced. It was the day after Chen Feng's parents were burned to death.

coincidence?

"Keep investigating," he said. "And what's the connection between Old Sun and Chen Feng's family?"

"We haven't found that yet. But..." The investigating police officer hesitated for a moment, "We found a crumpled note under Old Sun's pillow. It had a line written on it: 'South of the moat, under the stone bridge.' The handwriting was very messy, as if it was written in a hurry."

"South of the moat, under the stone bridge?" Officer Zhang repeated, "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. But considering the recent rumors circulating on the black market—that Chen Feng's sister, Chen Xiaoyu, might be by the moat—there might be a connection between the two."

Zhang Gong'an stood up and walked to the map on the wall. The moat meandered through the city, and the stone bridge was in the southern section, close to the city wall.

"Chen Xiaoyu..." he said in a low voice, "If Old Sun really knew where Chen Xiaoyu was, then his murder might not be a simple robbery."

"Kill him to cover it up?" the young police officer asked.

"Or perhaps someone wants to use this news to lure Chen Feng out," the old policeman chimed in.

Officer Zhang turned around and said, "Immediately send people to search the area near the stone bridge on the south side of the moat, focusing on the bridge arches, abandoned houses, bushes—anywhere someone can hide. If Chen Xiaoyu is really there, we must find her."

"yes!"

"Furthermore," Officer Zhang added, "we'll set up surveillance near Shiqiao, but it needs to be discreet. If this is a trap, Chen Feng is very likely to go. We'll wait and see."

"clear!"

The police officers obeyed and left. Officer Zhang stood alone in front of the map, his finger lightly tapping the location of the moat.

Chen Feng, Chen Xiaoyu, Old Sun, Blood Letters, Moat...

These clues, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, are slowly piecing together a complete picture. But he always felt that the most crucial piece was missing.

Who is pulling the strings behind all this?

Is it Chen Feng's enemy? Or Chen Feng himself?

Or perhaps, a third party?

Officer Zhang lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Through the swirling smoke, his eyes were sharp as knives.

This cat-and-mouse game is getting more and more complicated.

And it seems there are more than two chess players.

---

A small courtyard in Tofu Alley.

When Chen Feng woke up, it was already 10 a.m. He had only slept for less than four hours, but he felt much better.

The wound on my right shoulder has scabbed over, and as long as I don't engage in strenuous exercise, it shouldn't affect my mobility much. The knife wound on my back is also much better; the scab is starting to fall off, revealing pink new flesh.

After he got up, he first checked his wound, reapplied the medicine, and bandaged it. Then he ate something—two cold steamed buns with some cold water.

After finishing his meal, he changed his clothes and prepared to go out.

I'm going to see Skinny Monkey today to arrange a few things.

First, find out the details of Old Sun's death, especially who first leaked the news.

Second, find out if anyone on the black market has been paying special attention to Chen Feng and Chen Xiaoyu recently.

Third, send people to secretly monitor the moat to see if there are any suspicious individuals.

Fourth, and most importantly, continue searching for Xiaoyu's whereabouts—not just along the moat, but throughout the entire city of Beijing.

Chen Feng put on his tattered hat, pulled the brim down, and smeared some coal ash on his face before pushing open the door and going out.

The alley was quiet; most people were at work at this hour. He quickly walked out of the alley and blended into the flow of people on the street.

The streets were quieter than usual. With the recent heightened security, many people were staying home. Occasionally, a police patrol would pass by, and pedestrians would quickly make way, heads down, as they hurried past.

Chen Feng mingled in the crowd, walking unhurriedly. He deliberately hunched his back to make himself look more ordinary and inconspicuous.

When he reached the vicinity of the flea market, he turned into a small alley. Deep inside the alley was a general store that ostensibly sold needles and thread, but it was actually a liaison point for Wang Scarface's men.

Chen Feng pushed open the door and went inside. The shop was dark, the shelves were piled with miscellaneous items, and an old man was dozing behind the counter.

"Buy cigarettes," Chen Feng said in a low voice.

The old man opened his eyes, glanced at him, and asked, "What kind of cigarette?"

"Daqianmen, three guarantees."

"No Daqianmen (a type of cigarette), but we have Fengshou (another type of cigarette), want some?"

"Yes. But I want to see Skinny Monkey."

The code was matched. The old man stood up and lifted the curtain behind the counter: "Please come in."

Chen Feng went inside. It was a small room with a table and a few stools. Skinny Monkey was already waiting, along with two other men, all of whom were Scarface Wang's henchmen.

"Brother Da Gang," Skinny Monkey stood up, "you've arrived."

Chen Feng nodded and sat down at the head of the table. Everyone else stood; no one dared to sit.

"Have you investigated Old Sun's matter thoroughly?" Chen Feng asked bluntly.

"I checked," Skinny Monkey said. "Old Sun died between nine and ten o'clock last night in the inn. The scene looked like a robbery; the money was gone, and the house was ransacked. But there was a character 'Chen' on the ground, written in blood."

Who discovered the body first?

"A neighbor came to borrow something, knocked on the door but no one answered, so he went in and found out. Then he called the police."

"Who leaked the news? That Old Sun revealed Chen Xiaoyu's whereabouts before he died?"

Skinny Monkey and the other two exchanged a glance and shook their heads.

"We can't find that," Skinny Monkey said. "The news spread too fast, like everyone knew overnight. But nobody knows where it first came from."

Chen Feng pondered. The other party was very cautious and left no obvious traces.

"Any unfamiliar faces on the black market lately?" he asked. "Or, is anyone specifically inquiring about Chen Feng and Chen Xiaoyu?"

"Yes," one of the subordinates said. "A couple of days ago, some unfamiliar faces were asking about Chen Feng. They asked very detailed questions, including what his weaknesses were and where he might usually go. We didn't pay much attention at the time, thinking they were just looking for the bounty."

Do you remember what he looks like?

"Two men, one in his forties, with a square face and thick eyebrows; the other younger, in his early thirties, not very tall. Both were dressed plainly, but their mannerisms didn't suggest they were gangsters."

Square face, thick eyebrows… Chen Feng’s heart skipped a beat. This description sounded a bit like Director Wang’s husband, Zhao Jianguo. He had met Zhao Jianguo once, at the neighborhood office, and his impression of him was that of a middle-aged man with a square face and thick eyebrows.

Could it really be him?

"Have you found out their identities?"

"No, they were very careful. They asked their questions and left without leaving any contact information."

Chen Feng nodded. Although there was no conclusive evidence, Zhao Jianguo was the prime suspect.

"What about the moat?" he continued. "Was anyone there last night?"

“We sent two people to keep watch,” Skinny Monkey said. “From 10 p.m. to 4 a.m., we didn’t see a single person. The riverbank was very quiet, not even a ghost in sight.”

As expected. The other party didn't go last night.

Chen Feng quickly analyzed the situation in his mind. If Zhao Jianguo was indeed the one who set the trap, then his absence from the moat last night was likely due to waiting for the news to spread. So, what would his next move be?

They'll likely release more specific information, such as Chen Feng going to the moat tonight, or Chen Xiaoyu's exact hiding place. Then they'll lure the black market people to ambush Chen Feng.

To use someone else to do one's dirty work.

Well thought out.

"Listen," Chen Feng raised his head, his eyes icy cold, "starting today, you have a few things to do."

"First, continue searching for Chen Xiaoyu. Increase the reward to 500 yuan. Anyone with concrete clues will be paid on the spot."

"Second, send people to monitor the moat 24 hours a day, especially near the stone bridge. Report any unusual activity immediately."

"Third, spread rumors on the black market that Old Sun didn't mention the moat before he died, but the abandoned factory in the south of the city. Say that Chen Xiaoyu might be hiding there."

Skinny Monkey was taken aback: "Brother Big Steel, what's this...?"

"We're trying to mislead them," Chen Feng said. "They want to lure me to the moat, but I'm not going. Let's muddy the waters and see who loses their temper first."

The skinny monkey understood: "Brilliant! This way, if the enemy really has an ambush, they will be distracted or exposed."

"Yes," Chen Feng stood up, "Also, find out Zhao Jianguo's whereabouts—he's Director Wang's husband. Find out what he's been doing lately, who he's met, and so on."

"clear!"

After explaining everything, Chen Feng left the grocery store. As he walked out of the alley, the sunlight was blinding, and he squinted.

The game is set. The opponent is in the dark, and so is he. Now it's a matter of who makes the first mistake, who exposes themselves first.

In this bloody game, Xiaoyu is the only variable.

Chen Feng looked up at the sky. It was overcast and looked like it was about to rain.