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

The sky over Beijing was completely stained blood-red by the successive explosions and deaths.

The meeting room of the public security bureau was filled with so thick smoke it was almost dripping. The huge city map on the wall was completely obscured by red circles. Each red circle represented a death scene, an explosion, or a massacre. South of the city, east of the city, north of the city, west of the city… the scene was shocking, scattered like stars across the sky.

"In just three days! One bombing, seventeen heinous murders! More than forty people dead!" Deputy Director Li Weiguo, who was chairing the meeting, spoke in a hoarse voice, his eyes bloodshot. He slammed his fist on the table, making the enamel mug rattle. "What is this? This is war! This is a blatant provocation against our public security system! This is a complete trampling of social order!"

The meeting room was completely silent. All the attendees—heads of various branches, key criminal investigators, and security captains—had unusually grave expressions. The air was thick with anxiety, anger, and an indescribable chill.

"The methods are basically the same," Captain Wang of the Criminal Investigation Division stood up and pointed to the map. "The bombing case had a clear target, pointing to Zhao Jianguo's country. The on-site investigation confirmed that it was a deliberately placed ammonium nitrate explosive, and the detonation method was professional. In the other murder cases, the victims were all well-known thugs, black market brokers, and intelligence traffickers from various places. The methods were clean and efficient, mostly caused by sharp weapons or close-range shootings. Very few useful clues were left at the scene, which is obviously a planned and unified operation."

"What connection is there between these dead people?" someone asked.

"Yes," Captain Wang said, flipping through the file. "Preliminary investigations show that these people have all been involved in or inquired about something to varying degrees in the past half month to a month—searching for a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl with a mole on her neck and wearing a red string necklace. That is, Chen Feng's younger sister, Chen Xiaoyu."

A suppressed gasp filled the conference room.

"Chen Feng..." Li Weiguo gritted his teeth and spat out the name, "It's him again! What is he trying to do? Turn Beijing upside down?"

"I'm afraid it's more than just disruption," Captain Wang said gravely. "Judging from the Zhao family bombing, this is more like a precise act of revenge and purge. The Zhao family offered a reward for finding Chen Xiaoyu, but the entire family was killed in the bombing, and the two who escaped were shot dead at the door. The other victims were people who had shown interest in finding Chen Xiaoyu and might even have had some clues. Chen Feng is... eliminating all the 'eyes' and 'claws' that could potentially threaten his sister's safety."

"He's gone mad!" a young branch chief couldn't help but shout. "He killed so many people just to find his sister? He even wiped out the entire Zhao family? This has gone beyond the realm of revenge!"

"He's been insane for a long time," Li Weiguo said coldly. "He went insane from the moment he broke out of prison and killed the first person. Now that he's found his sister, he's determined to eliminate all potential threats to ensure her absolute safety, regardless of whether those threats are real or not, big or small."

Silence fell over the meeting room once more. What terrible things could a crazed, highly lethal, and ruthless outlaw do to protect his only remaining family member? The series of bloody incidents before them was the answer.

"We must take immediate action!" Li Weiguo stood up abruptly. "First, upgrade martial law to the entire city! Set up double checkpoints at all exits from the city, the train station, and the bus station, with strict 24-hour checks! Work permits and letters of introduction are required! Detain and interrogate all suspicious persons!"

"Second, mobilize all available resources! All members of the joint defense team are on duty, cooperating with police patrols and checks! Security departments in all factories, enterprises, schools, and streets are fully mobilized to conduct thorough investigations of personnel within their units and jurisdictions, and to report any suspicious activity immediately!"

"Third, issue the highest-level arrest warrant! Photos and details of Chen Feng and his sister Chen Xiaoyu should be distributed to every police station, every checkpoint, and every grassroots unit! The reward... is increased to one thousand yuan! A substantial reward will be given to anyone providing valid clues! A substantial reward will be given to anyone assisting in the arrest!"

"Fourth, establish a special task force for the 'November 7th Major Series Cases,' with myself as the task force leader and Captain Wang as the deputy task force leader. We will draw on the best personnel from each branch bureau, work together in a centralized office, and operate under unified command! Solve the case within a specified timeframe!"

Orders were issued one after another, and the entire state machinery of Beijing sprang into action like a tightly wound spring. The number of police and militiamen on the streets noticeably increased, heavily armed and their eyes scanning every pedestrian with vigilance. Security officers from various units went door-to-door with photos and lists, asking questions. Long queues formed at train and bus stations, and every passenger underwent thorough checks and document verification. A tense and uneasy atmosphere permeated the air, as if an invisible net was rapidly tightening.

However, their target had already quietly left the center of this vast network.

---

Tianjin Port is an important port city on the Bohai Bay, more than 200 kilometers away from Beijing.

The sea breeze, carrying a salty, fishy scent, caressed the slightly worn buildings of the port area. On the docks, massive cranes moved slowly, cargo ships sounded their horns, and workers shouted commands as they loaded and unloaded goods. The air was thick with the smells of engine oil, seawater, and fish. It felt rougher and busier than Beijing, and lacked the tense atmosphere that usually precedes a storm.

On the outskirts of the port area, in a back street full of puddles and potholes, stands a three-story red brick building with a faded sign hanging at the entrance: "Jin Port Third Workers' Guesthouse". The building is mottled and the windows are dusty, looking quite old.

In a single room furthest inside on the third floor, a window was ajar, letting the salty sea breeze dispel the slight musty smell. Chen Feng stood by the window, gazing through the blurry glass at the indistinct outline of the harbor in the distance and the hazy sea horizon further away, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

His face had been somewhat groomed; he had grown a beard, deliberately tanned his skin, and wore a pair of cheap, non-prescription glasses, making him look like a sailor or dockworker who spent most of his time away from home—a far cry from the cold, stern face on the wanted posters in Beijing. He wore the dark blue overalls commonly seen in the area and mud-splattered canvas shoes.

On the bed, Xiaoyu was curled up in the slightly rough but clean blankets, fast asleep. After taking a bath, changing into new clothes that fit her well, eating a hearty meal, and then sleeping a long sleep, a bit of color finally returned to her face. Although she was still thin, the fear she had felt was much less intense. Even in her sleep, however, her brows were slightly furrowed, and one hand unconsciously gripped the corner of her pillow—there, hidden, were the revolver and some money that Chen Feng had left her.

Chen Feng withdrew his gaze, walked to the bedside, bent down, and gently tucked Xiaoyu's exposed arm back under the covers, smoothing the wrinkles between her brows. His movements were incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to the ruthless killer who had coldly reaped lives amidst explosions and gunfire the previous night.

Only he himself knew what boiling murderous intent and icy determination lay buried beneath that gentleness.

He had temporarily escaped the danger in Beijing, but it was far from over. The police response was faster and more forceful than he had anticipated. Martial law was declared throughout the city, checkpoints were set up everywhere, and the reward was increased... He knew that photos of himself and his sister were probably plastered all over the streets and alleys of Beijing, and might even have been distributed to surrounding cities and counties.

Although Tianjin Port is some distance from Beijing, it is still an important northern city, and the police's notice for assistance has likely already arrived. This guesthouse is not safe; it's just a temporary shelter. They need a more secluded hiding place, and more importantly, they need to get tickets to leave as soon as possible—not passenger ships to other southern ports, but cargo ships that can take them far from the coastline, or even… abroad.

But this takes time, connections, and a lot of money.

He still had money. From what he'd gotten from Wang the Scarface, from what he'd plundered from the Zhao family and other targets of the "purge," plus what he'd exchanged on the black market, he had nearly two thousand dollars in cash and some gold and silver—a considerable sum in those days. But in this unfamiliar port of Tianjin, how to safely buy two "special" ship tickets with this money was a problem.

He needs to access the local black market in Tianjin or find a smuggler. This also means risk.

And... those "tails".

Chen Feng's eyes turned cold again. Although the purge of Beijing was basically complete, it was hard to guarantee that no one had escaped, or that some "hunting dogs" with a keen sense of smell, who had guessed that he and his sister might have fled and were following them. Although the Zhao family was wiped out, their social connections were deeply entrenched, and it was hard to guarantee that there wouldn't be relatives and friends from other places who wanted to "help out" in a way. And within the public security system, there were definitely capable people who wouldn't easily give up the pursuit.

He had to assume that danger was all around him, lurking in the shadows.

Turning around, Chen Feng walked to the worn-out desk in the corner of the room. On the desk lay the canvas bag he had brought from Beijing. He opened the bag and began to carefully examine its contents.

Weapons: one Type 56 submachine gun, two drum magazines (one empty, one full); two Type 54 pistols, four spare magazines; two daggers; and a small packet of his own concocted "palm-sized grenade" explosive, a simple mixture of ammonium nitrate and diesel fuel. It wasn't very powerful, but could be lethal if used suddenly at close range. These were essential for his survival and had to be kept in peak condition at all times. He took out gun oil and a cloth and began patiently wiping and maintaining the gun.

Medications: Only a few vials of penicillin remained, along with Yunnan Baiyao (a traditional Chinese medicine), anti-inflammatory drugs, gauze, alcohol, etc. Xiaoyu was weak and needed nutritional supplements and careful recuperation; these medications were very important. He checked them all and carefully put them away.

Money and receipts: The cash was divided into several portions, wrapped in oiled paper, and hidden on my person, in my bag, and in several concealed places in the room. There were also some national grain coupons and cloth coupons, which could be used in Tianjin Port.

Forged documents: his and Xiaoyu's fake work permits and letters of introduction. These might have been exposed or invalid in Beijing, but in a place like Tianjin Port with a large transient population, they could still pass for routine checks. He needed to obtain new, more "reliable" and "genuine" documents as soon as possible.

Finally, he pulled out a small notebook carefully wrapped in oilcloth from the bottom of his bag. Inside were densely packed lists and information he had written in pencil.

These are the information he collected and compiled through various channels while he was in Beijing, concerning the people involved in the false accusation case, the arson case, and the subsequent persecution. This includes not only direct enemies such as Qin Huairu, Jia Dongxu, Yi Zhonghai, Liu Haizhong, Yan Bugui, Director Wang, and Zhao Jianguo, who are already dead, but also the neighbors in the courtyard who contributed money and effort, gave false testimony, kicked him while he was down, and took advantage of the chaos, as well as some officials in the street offices and police stations who aided and abetted the perpetrators.

Some names have been marked with a red cross—meaning they are dead. For example, the entire Zhao family, the four thugs in the shantytown, and the black market informants who were later eliminated.

But many names are left blank.

Most of these people "wisely" moved away before the courtyard house explosion, scattering throughout Beijing, and some may even have left the city altogether, just like him. They thought they had escaped a disaster and could start a new life.

Chen Feng's fingertips slowly traced the blank names, his eyes as cold as ice.

The horrific sight of his parents burned to a crisp, the emaciated state of Xiaoyu after hiding for the past two months, and his own days and nights of fleeing and fighting like a stray dog... all flashed before his eyes.

The blood debt has not been repaid.

The courtyard house was destroyed, the Zhao family was wiped out, and the most vocal hyenas were eliminated, but there are still many more hiding in the shadows, thinking they can stay out of it, or perhaps even having forgotten their sins from back then.

Why are they allowed to live? Why are they allowed to live peacefully?

Not a single one can be left alive.

These words never faded from his mind; on the contrary, they became clearer and more resolute after he found Xiaoyu and gained a temporary respite.

He closed the notebook, wrapped it again in oilcloth, and tucked it back into his bosom. This notebook was his obsession, his judgment.

But now is not the time.

The most urgent task is to ensure Xiaoyu's absolute safety, to get her out of here, to go to a farther, safer place. He will remember these names, these debts. To the ends of the earth, as long as he lives, as long as he has the ability, one day…

The sounds of workers changing shifts at the dock and the long whistles of ocean liners outside the window pulled Chen Feng back to reality from his cold thoughts.

On the bed, Xiaoyu stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes. After the initial disorientation of waking up, her gaze subconsciously searched, and when she saw Chen Feng standing by the table, her eyes immediately settled, like a small boat that had found its harbor.

"Brother..." she called softly, her voice still a little hoarse.

Chen Feng's cold expression softened instantly. He quickly walked to the bedside, sat down, and reached out to touch her forehead: "Awake? How are you feeling? Still uncomfortable?"

Xiaoyu shook her head and tried to sit up. Chen Feng helped her and placed a pillow behind her back.

"How long did I sleep?" Xiaoyu asked, glancing at the setting sun outside the window.

"It's been most of the day," Chen Feng said. "Are you hungry? I'll go get you something to eat."

Xiaoyu nodded, then tugged at his sleeve: "Brother, don't go too far."

Chen Feng felt a pang of sadness and held her cold little hand: "I won't go far, just downstairs. Lock the door, and don't open it for anyone except me, understand?"

"I remember." Xiaoyu nodded vigorously, and with her other hand she quietly reached under the pillow and touched the cold gun handle, which made her feel a little more at ease.

Chen Feng gave a few more instructions before getting up and leaving, locking the door from the outside. He hurried downstairs, the middle-aged woman at the guesthouse reception who was eating sunflower seeds not even looking up. Chen Feng walked to the state-run restaurant on the street corner, bought two meat buns and a bowl of wontons, packed them in an aluminum lunchbox, and then went to the supply and marketing cooperative next door to buy some fruit candies and biscuits.

Back in the room, Xiaoyu had already dressed herself and was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting. She visibly relaxed when she saw Chen Feng return.

Chen Feng laid out the food and watched as Xiao Yu ate the hot wontons and steamed buns in small but quick bites, her pale cheeks regaining a touch of color from the heat. He sat down beside her, peeled a piece of fruit candy, and offered it to her lips.

Xiaoyu held the candy in her mouth, the sweetness melting on her tongue, making her squint her eyes slightly, like a kitten finally comforted. This long-lost, subtle sweetness, belonging to ordinary life, almost made her want to cry.

Chen Feng gazed at her silently, the boiling murderous intent and chilling plans within him temporarily suppressed to their deepest recesses. At this moment, all he felt was his sister, whom he had lost and found again, and this brief but precious peace.

But he knew that this peace was like a bubble on the sea, fragile and fleeting.

The harbor whistles sounded again, long and hollow, like a call to a distant journey, or a harbinger of unknown risks.

Night was slowly descending from the other side of the sea.