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

Chen Feng's search in Jiajiazhuang turned out to be fruitless.

He sneaked into the village under cover of darkness and found the Jia family's old house—three dilapidated mud-brick houses with half of the courtyard wall collapsed and the yard overgrown with weeds, clearly uninhabited for a long time. A neighbor said that the Jia family had moved to the city more than ten years ago and had long since lost contact with their relatives back home.

"They're afraid we'll come knocking on their door and beg for their money!" The old neighbor snorted disdainfully as he puffed on his pipe. "That family thinks they're superior just because they've moved to the city. They didn't even come back for their own nephew's wedding."

Chen Feng pretended to be Jia Dongxu's coworker, delivering something. The old man sized him up a few times but didn't suspect anything: "His family has been deserted for a long time. The old couple died a few years ago, and the house has been empty ever since. If you want to find them, you'll have to go to the city."

"Does the Jia family have any other relatives here?" Chen Feng persisted.

The old man shook his head: "We've been estranged for a long time. The year Jia Dongxu's father came to the city, he had a falling out with his brother, saying that the division of the family property was unfair. They haven't had any contact since."

Chen Feng thanked him and quietly left the village. He sat under the old locust tree at the village entrance for a long time, watching the east gradually lighten, his heart filled with coldness.

The trail went cold.

If Xiaoyu isn't in Jiajiazhuang, where would she be? Still in the city? Or... is she really gone?

Chen Feng gripped the dagger in his arms tightly; its icy touch calmed him slightly. He couldn't give up. As long as there was even a sliver of hope, he had to keep searching.

Before dawn, he set off to return to Beijing. For the dozens of miles he traveled, he dared not take the main roads, choosing only side paths and open fields. When hungry, he would nibble on a few bites of hard bread; when thirsty, he would drink a few sips of cold water. His tattered cotton-padded coat offered little protection from the biting wind, and his hands and feet were frozen stiff, but he dared not stop.

We have to go back. There are still clues at the courtyard house; Jia Dongxu is still there.

At the same time, the courtyard was bustling with activity.

Although the fire in the backyard last night was quickly extinguished, only burning down a woodshed, it terrified everyone. Jia Dongxu, in particular, was terrified when he saw the flowery cotton-padded jacket being taken away by the police.

This morning, Officer Zhang came again and this time he was taken directly to the police station for questioning.

"Jia Dongxu, whose is this floral cotton-padded jacket?" Officer Zhang placed the evidence bag on the table; the floral cotton-padded jacket inside looked particularly glaring under the fluorescent light.

Jia Dongxu sat in the chair, cold sweat pouring down his face: "I...I really don't know. Maybe it was my wife before..."

"Would your wife wear such girly clothes?" Officer Zhang interrupted him. "The preliminary forensic examination shows the bloodstains are type O. Your wife has type A blood; this blood isn't hers."

Jia Dongxu's face turned even paler.

"Jia Dongxu, I advise you to confess honestly." Officer Zhang stared at him. "After Chen Feng escaped from prison, he first killed Qin Huairu and then injured Yi Zhonghai. Now, his target is clearly you. If we could get some clues in advance, we might be able to save your life."

"Save my life?" Jia Dongxu suddenly became agitated. "If you could really save me, you wouldn't have let Chen Feng escape! My wife is dead, Uncle Yi's hand is crippled, what are you police doing?!"

"Jia Dongxu!" Officer Zhang slammed his hand on the table. "Watch your attitude! I'm asking you a question!"

Jia Dongxu was panting heavily and didn't say anything.

Officer Zhang softened his tone: "We know you're under a lot of pressure. But you need to understand, Chen Feng is a fugitive, a murderer. Why is he targeting you? Why is he targeting your Jia family? Is there some hidden reason?"

Jia Dongxu kept his head down, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair tightly.

"On the night of the fire," Officer Zhang continued, "someone saw you leaving the Chen family's courtyard. Is that true?"

Jia Dongxu suddenly looked up: "Who said that? Who saw it?"

"You don't need to worry about that," Officer Zhang said. "You just need to answer, yes or no."

The room was deathly silent. The clock on the wall ticked away, each tick striking Jia Dongxu's heart. He knew that if he confessed, it would be arson and murder, punishable by death. If he didn't confess, Chen Feng would come knocking sooner or later, and he might also die.

Either way, it's all the same – death.

"No," Jia Dongxu finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "I didn't go to the Chen family. I stayed home the whole night; you can ask my mother."

Officer Zhang stared at him for a long time, then finally sighed: "Alright, that's enough for today. You can go back now, but don't leave Beijing recently and cooperate with the investigation at any time."

Jia Dongxu felt like he had been granted a pardon and fled the police station as if he were escaping. Walking on the street, a cold wind blew, and he realized that he was soaked to the bone.

What to do? The police already suspect him. Chen Feng is still lurking in the shadows, watching him intently. He's walking on the edge of a cliff; one wrong step and he'll plunge into an abyss.

Jia Dongxu suddenly thought of his hometown, Fangshan. Perhaps… he should go back and hide there for a while? Wait until things calm down before returning?

But he immediately dismissed the idea. The police told him not to leave Beijing; if he ran away, it would be tantamount to admitting guilt. Besides, back in his hometown… he wasn't sure if Chen Feng would go there.

After much thought, there was only one way out—join forces with the people in the compound, strengthen defenses, and wait for Chen Feng to come again so they could kill him together.

Yes, kill him. Once Chen Feng is dead, everything will be over.

Jia Dongxu gripped the newly bought fruit knife in his arms, his eyes turning fierce.

In a dilapidated house on the verge of collapse in the shantytown of the eastern part of the city.

Chen Xiaoyu huddled in the corner, wrapped in a tattered burlap sack she had found. There was no stove in the room, so she could only keep warm by a small fire burning against the wall. The fire was lit with scrap coal, burning weakly but producing a lot of smoke that made her cough.

She has been hiding here for over a month.

On the night of the fire, she was awakened from her sleep by thick smoke. Her parents' room was engulfed in flames. She wanted to rescue them, but the fire was too intense to get in. Just as she was in despair, she saw a figure climb over the wall—it was Jia Dongxu, carrying a bucket.

When Jia Dongxu saw her, he was stunned for a moment, then revealed a sinister smile: "Little girl, you're lucky to be alive."

Xiaoyu turned and ran, leaping over the backyard wall. Jia Dongxu chased after her, and she ran for her life, only to be caught by him at the alley entrance. In the struggle, Jia Dongxu struck her head with a brick, and she blacked out and lost consciousness.

When she woke up again, she was on a cart, covered with a tattered mat. The driver was an old stranger who said that Jia Dongxu had hired him to take her outside the city and abandon her.

"Girl, I can't bear to see you still breathing," the old man said. "There's a mass grave just ahead. You should escape for your own life."

The old man dropped her off by the roadside and drove away. Xiaoyu struggled to get up; blood was still flowing from her head, and her whole body ached terribly. She dared not return to the city, afraid that Jia Dongxu would look for her again, nor did she dare go to the police station, because she didn't know if Jia Dongxu had anyone there.

She could only wander aimlessly, eventually ending up in a shantytown in the east of the city. The area was mostly inhabited by beggars, homeless people, and low-income laborers; nobody bothered her or asked about her background.

She made a living by washing clothes, collecting coal scraps, and begging. At night, she slept in this abandoned, dilapidated house. Her hair was cut short, her face was smeared with coal dust, and she wore tattered men's clothes. No one recognized her as the little girl with a ponytail who loved to laugh and sing.

But she dared not show her face. Although the shantytown was chaotic, the police would occasionally come to check household registrations. She was afraid of being recognized, afraid that Jia Dongxu would find out she was still alive.

Every night, she has nightmares. She dreams of fire, of her parents calling for help from within the flames, and of Jia Dongxu's grinning face. Each time she wakes up, she is covered in cold sweat and sits hugging her knees until dawn.

She misses her brother.

Before Chen Feng was sent to a labor camp, she visited him once. Through the iron bars, her brother said to her, "Xiaoyu, don't be afraid. Brother will definitely come back. Wait for brother to come back."

Where is my brother now? Does he know what happened at home? Does he know she's still alive?

Xiaoyu pulled a small, hard piece of cornbread from her bosom, broke off a small bite, and put it in her mouth. The cornbread was dry and hard, and she swallowed it with difficulty, tears streaming down her face silently.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to go back to the home where her parents and brother were. She wanted to eat her mother's fried noodles with soybean paste and hear her brother tell her funny stories about the factory.

But her home was gone. Her parents were dead, her brother was missing, and she was all alone, hiding in this dilapidated house like a rat.

Xiaoyu wiped away her tears and carefully wrapped up the remaining cornbread. She had to survive. Only by living could she hope to see her brother and have a chance to avenge her parents.

The fire gradually died down, and the room was as cold as an icebox. Xiaoyu wrapped the burlap sack tighter and curled up even more. She had to get up early tomorrow to go to the market to collect rotten vegetable leaves and to the coal yard to collect coal nuggets.

live.

Must survive.

Chen Feng returned to Beijing before dark. He didn't go to the abandoned factory; it was probably no longer safe there. He found another place to stay in the north of the city—an abandoned church, supposedly built by foreigners before liberation, and now abandoned.

The church was large, covered in dust and cobwebs. Chen Feng found a relatively clean small room, blocked the door, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He ate something and sat down against the wall. His mind raced through the day's events—the empty house at Jiajiazhuang, the police search of the Jia family home, that blood-stained floral cotton-padded jacket…

Jia Dongxu must be terrified right now. The police are investigating him, Chen Feng is looking for him, and he's like a cat on a hot tin roof.

This is an opportunity.

Chen Feng decided to go to the courtyard house tonight. Not by force, but by lying in wait. He wanted to hear what the people inside were saying and see what Jia Dongxu was doing. Perhaps he could glean some useful information.

He waited until late at night before quietly leaving the church. The moonlight was beautiful tonight, illuminating the streets in a silvery glow. Chen Feng deliberately chose to walk in the shadows, like a black shadow.

The courtyard was quiet. The candles in the mourning tent had been extinguished, and only the windows of the Jia family's house were still lit. Chen Feng climbed over the wall and hid in the shadows behind the moon gate, where he could hear the sounds coming from the middle courtyard.

Several people were talking at Jia Dongxu's house.

"Dongxu, what did the police ask you today?" It was Shazhu's voice.

"What else can we ask? Just ask about that cotton-padded jacket." Jia Dongxu's voice was tired. "If I say I don't know, they have no proof."

"Whose cotton-padded jacket is that?" Yan Jiecheng asked.

A moment of silence.

"Dongxu, now that things have come to this, you have to tell us the truth." Yi Zhonghai's voice rang out. He had just returned from the hospital that day, his right hand wrapped in thick bandages, his face pale. "Why is Chen Feng keeping an eye on you? What exactly happened with that fire?"

Jia Dongxu remained silent.

Yi Zhonghai sighed: "Dongxu, I know you're scared. I'm scared too. This hand of mine is the price to pay. But if you keep hiding it, it might not just be a matter of one hand anymore."

"Uncle, what do you mean?" Sha Zhu asked.

"What I mean is," Yi Zhonghai said, emphasizing each word, "that fire at Chen Feng's parents' house might not have been an accident."

The room was deathly silent.

Chen Feng gripped his dagger tightly in the shadows. Finally, someone got to the point.

"You...you're talking nonsense!" Jia Dongxu's voice trembled.

"Whether I'm lying or not, you know in your heart," Yi Zhonghai said. "That night I saw you coming out of the Chen family's house, carrying a kerosene can. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now that I think about it... Dongxu, tell me the truth, did you start that fire?"

"No!" Jia Dongxu roared, "You're making baseless accusations! I was home the whole night!"

"Then explain why Chen Feng is targeting you? Why did he try to kill Huai Ru and hurt me?"

Jia Dongxu fell silent.

Sha Zhu and Yan Jiecheng exchanged glances, their faces grim. Although they had a good relationship with Jia Dongxu, if Jia Dongxu was indeed an arsonist and murderer... that was a crime punishable by death.

"Dongxu," Yan Jiecheng said cautiously, "if it really was you... you should turn yourself in. Chen Feng is out there, and the police are investigating too; you can't escape it."

"Turn yourself in?" Jia Dongxu sneered. "Turning yourself in means death! Do you want me dead?"

"Of course we don't want this," Yi Zhonghai said, "but you're just waiting to die like this. Chen Feng won't let you go, and neither will the police."

Silence fell over the room again.

Chen Feng waited patiently outside the door. He wanted to hear Jia Dongxu admit in person that he had started the fire and that he was responsible for Xiaoyu's death.

But Jia Dongxu never admitted it. He just kept saying, "It wasn't me, it really wasn't me..."

Finally, Yi Zhonghai sighed, "Alright, that's enough for today. Everyone go back to sleep, we'll talk again tomorrow."

Several people left one after another. Chen Feng quietly retreated to a darker corner and watched them go home.

Jia Dongxu neither admitted nor denied it. He was afraid, and he was struggling.

This is enough.

Chen Feng knew that Jia Dongxu wouldn't last long. Fear can break a person and expose their weaknesses.

All he needs to do is wait, wait for the moment when that flaw appears.

Chen Feng scaled the wall and left the courtyard, disappearing into the night. He didn't return to the church, but instead wandered aimlessly through the city.

He missed Xiaoyu. Where was that little girl who always followed him around calling him "brother"? Was she alive or dead?

Chen Feng walked to the moat and looked at the dark water. Sparse starlight was reflected on the surface of the water, cold and devoid of warmth.

"Xiaoyu," he whispered, "if you're still alive, you must wait for your brother. Your brother will find you and avenge you."

The river flowed calmly, offering no reply.

A night wind blew by, carrying a biting chill. Chen Feng wrapped his tattered cotton-padded coat tighter around himself and turned to leave.

The road ahead is long, revenge must be taken, and the person must be found.

Not a single one will be left.