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

Chen Feng's heart pounded like a drum. He squatted down in front of the haystack, reached out his hand, and gently touched it.

The hay still carried a slight coolness, but it seemed... to retain a trace of warmth?

He suddenly looked up, his gaze sharp as lightning, scanning the small triangular space.

Xiaoyu was nowhere to be seen.

But she must have been here, most likely recently, or even tonight!

Chen Feng forced himself to calm down and analyze the situation carefully. The cloth was hanging on the wire outside, and the person was hiding there. Did he tear his clothes in his haste to avoid someone (like those four thugs from before) approaching? Or did he deliberately leave a clue, hoping someone (hopefully it was him) would follow the trail and find him?

If it's the former, it means Xiaoyu is in a dangerous situation and is evading capture.

If it's the latter... Chen Feng didn't dare to think too deeply, fearing that too much hope would only lead to greater disappointment.

We must find her immediately, no matter what! This place has been exposed; if those four thugs can find her, other bounty hunters might too!

Chen Feng stood up and took a deep breath. He needed to determine which direction Xiaoyu might have gone.

The triangular area had only one exit: a gap in the earthen wall leading to another, narrower, darker alleyway. The alleyway was flanked by higher walls of shacks, with no windows, making it resemble a dead-end alley.

Chen Feng walked into the alley. It was very narrow, allowing only sideways passage. Underfoot was soft mud and garbage.

After walking for about ten meters, the alleyway came to an end, blocked by a higher brick wall. There were some signs of climbing on the wall, and fresh soil in the cracks between the bricks.

Chen Feng looked up. The wall was about two and a half meters high, with broken glass stuck in the top. But in one corner, the broken glass had been cleaned up, and there were footprints in the grout lines.

Did Xiaoyu climb over the wall and leave?

Without further hesitation, Chen Feng took a few steps back, ran up the wall, pushed off, grabbed the top of the wall, and easily flipped over.

On the other side of the wall was a larger open space, which looked like the yard of an abandoned workshop. There were some broken machines and timber piled up in the yard, as well as a half-collapsed brick house.

A little moonlight peeked through the gaps in the clouds, barely enough to make out the outline of the courtyard.

Chen Feng squatted on the wall, his sharp eyes sweeping across the entire courtyard.

The door to the brick house was ajar.

In the courtyard, in the shadows near the pile of broken machines, something seemed to move.

It is so slight that it is almost imperceptible.

But Chen Feng saw it.

He held his breath instantly.

That was... a human figure? Curled up in the shadows behind the machine, small and thin.

Chen Feng lightly jumped off the wall, landing silently. He drew his gun, but didn't raise it; he simply held it in his hand, muzzle pointing downwards. Step by step, extremely slowly and cautiously, he walked towards the shadow.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest, almost shattering my ribs. My palms were sweating as I gripped the gun.

Is it him? Is it Xiaoyu?

The distance is getting closer and closer. Five meters, three meters, two meters...

Just then, the moonlight broke free from the clouds, its cool glow illuminating the shadows.

Chen Feng saw it clearly.

A thin, small figure was huddled behind a pile of scrap metal and broken planks, his back to him. He wore loose, worn-out, androgynous clothes, and his hair was short and messy. His body was trembling slightly, whether from cold or fear, it was hard to tell.

Chen Feng stopped in his tracks.

He opened his mouth, wanting to call out the name he had uttered a thousand times in his heart, but his throat felt as if it were being choked by something, and he couldn't make a sound.

He could only move forward one step at a time, very slowly.

The figure seemed to hear the noise, trembled violently, curled up even tighter, and buried its head even lower.

Chen Feng could finally make out the man's profile—dirty and covered in coal dust, obscuring his features. But around his neck… his collar was slightly open…

Under the moonlight, a small, dark mole was faintly visible on the exposed part of her neck.

Chen Feng's pupils suddenly dilated.

His gaze shifted downwards, landing on the man's wrist—a small section of thin wrist was visible beneath the tattered cuff. Wrapped around the wrist was a red string, so dirty its original color was indistinguishable…

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

The hustle and bustle of the shantytown, the distant barking of dogs, and the howling of the night wind all disappeared.

All that remained in the world was this small, huddled, trembling figure before him, and the pounding of his heart that seemed about to explode.

He found it.

He finally... found it.

The dawn light, like a dull knife, slowly sliced ​​through the eastern night, revealing a pale, fish-belly white.

Deep in the shantytown, Chen Feng held Xiao Yu in his arms, like a mother wolf protecting her cubs, cautiously navigating the maze-like alleyways. Xiao Yu was so light, so light it pained him; she curled up stiffly in his arms, like a frightened little animal, even her trembling was weak. Her face was buried deep in his chest, her short hair, covered in coal dust and grime, brushing against his chin. Only her small hands, tightly gripping his clothes, the mole on her neck, and the dirty red rope on her wrist proved that this was not a dream.

He found her. He really found her.

What they found was a small girl named Xiaoyu. She was emaciated, her eyes vacant and numb, emanating a foul odor, her clothes so tattered they were unrecognizable. When he approached, she first shrank back in terror, as if she didn't recognize him. Then, after he repeatedly called out in trembling voice, "Xiaoyu, it's me, brother," she jolted awake, looked up, and her once clear and bright eyes first showed confusion, then disbelief, and finally, a torrent of silent tears. She didn't rush to him, didn't cry out, but just stared intently at him, as if trying to confirm whether this equally disfigured face was an illusion. Then, little by little, extremely slowly, she reached out and touched his cheek.

Cold fingers covered in rough calluses.

That touch unleashed all the emotions Chen Feng had been suppressing for over two months—grief, anger, hatred, despair, and the overwhelming joy of finding her again—almost bursting from his throat. He gritted his teeth, swallowing back all the sobs, and pulled his sister tightly into his arms, using all his strength, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones, never to be separated again.

Voices drifted from afar, indistinct and chaotic. The gunshots rang out in the early morning had finally disturbed this sleeping slum. They couldn't stay any longer.

Chen Feng took off his relatively clean coat and wrapped it around Xiao Yu's thin body, then picked her up horizontally. Xiao Yu didn't resist or say anything, but simply buried her face deeper into his neck, wrapped her arms around his neck, and touched his skin with her cool fingertips.

He chose the most secluded and complicated route to escape. Avoiding main roads, he specifically chose narrow alleys where even locals could get lost. His steps were incredibly fast, yet remarkably steady, ensuring his sister in his arms wasn't jolted at all. His ears were perked up, listening to every sound from all directions; his eyes, sharp as an eagle, scanned every fork in the road and shadow. The gun at his waist was already reloaded, within easy reach.