Siheyuan: Hang Jia Dongxu, smash Banggeng to death!

at the same time.

A black sedan pulled up outside the Hongxing Police Station.

The car door opened, and a middle-aged man in a Zhongshan suit with a gloomy face stepped out.

He was around fifty years old, his hair was neatly combed, but his eyes were bloodshot and his steps were unsteady.

"Comrade, I'm looking for Director Zhao."

The police officer on duty recognized him.

Director Wang's husband, Zhang Jianguo, works in a ministry. Although his position is not particularly high, he is still an influential figure.

"Comrade Zhang, please come in. Director Zhao is waiting for you."

Zhang Jianguo nodded and followed the police officer into the police station.

The police officers in the courtyard were hurrying around, and a sense of oppressive tension filled the air.

Director Zhao came out to greet him. When he saw Zhang Jianguo, a complex look flashed in his eyes. He extended his hand and said, "Comrade Zhang, please accept my condolences."

Zhang Jianguo didn't shake hands, but asked directly, "Where are my wife and children?"

"It's inside, come with me."

Director Zhao led Zhang Jianguo into the morgue, where there were four stretcher beds covered with white sheets.

Despite the simple treatment, the strong smell of blood still lingered.

Zhang Jianguo stood at the door, his body swaying slightly.

He took a deep breath and walked step by step toward the first bed.

Director Zhao gestured to the staff to remove the white cloth.

Under the white sheet was Director Wang in a terrible state, almost unrecognizable.

Only that floral shirt she loved to wear could still prove that this was his wife.

Zhang Jianguo's hand trembled slightly.

The second bed was occupied by his eldest son, Chen Lu, who had been split in two from head to toe, with his internal organs and bones exposed.

The third picture shows the youngest son, in the same terrible state.

The fourth picture shows the youngest daughter, her small body split in two, her once bright eyes now staring blankly.

"Ah...ah..."

Zhang Jianguo made a suppressed sound in his throat, like a wounded beast.

He reached out to touch his daughter's face, but his hand froze in mid-air, unable to fall.

They were perfectly fine yesterday.

He had dinner with his wife and children yesterday.

My wife is going to the police station to cooperate with the investigation that evening.

He said it's okay, he'll use his connections to get you out.

People do indeed come out in the morning.

But they left in the morning.

Gone forever.

"Ahhh!! My wife!! My son and daughter!!"

Zhang Jianguo finally broke down, kneeling on the ground, embracing his youngest daughter's body, and bursting into tears.

The heart-wrenching, desperate cries brought tears to the eyes of everyone present.

Zhang Jianguo cried for a long time before he slowly stopped.

He raised his head, his eyes red and his face streaked with tears: "Director Zhao, tell me, who is the murderer? I want him to avenge my wife and children!"

Director Zhao sighed, signaled the staff to cover Zhang Jianguo with the white sheet again, helped him up, and the two walked to the next office.

"Comrade Zhang, please have a seat." Director Zhao poured him a glass of water.

Zhang Jianguo didn't take the water. Instead, he took out a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes from his pocket, pulled out one and handed it to Director Zhao, then lit the match himself with trembling hands.

It took three tries to light it. I took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs, before I could barely suppress the horror in my heart.

"Director Zhao, please tell me, what exactly happened?"

Director Zhao recounted the situation as it was currently known, from the first murder case in the courtyard to last night's fire.

From the massacre of Director Wang's family this morning to the discovery of the bodies of Yi Zhonghai and others just now.

"So, in just three days, more than twenty people died?" Zhang Jianguo's voice trembled. "Each death was more gruesome than the last?"

Director Zhao nodded heavily: "Yes, and according to our investigation, almost all of these victims were involved in the persecution of the Lin family."

"The Lin family?" Zhang Jianguo frowned. "Which Lin family?"

"They were the original residents of Building 95."

Director Zhao said, "Lin's parents died 'accidentally,' leaving behind their eight-year-old son Lin Tian and their three-and-a-half-year-old daughter Lin Tangtang."

Several elderly men in the compound, along with the neighborhood committee official—who is also your wife—have seized the Lin family's property, compensation, and job opportunities under the guise of "custody."

Zhang Jianguo was stunned.

He had vaguely heard about this, but his wife had never told him the details.

All he knew was that his wife had suddenly become much wealthier in recent years and had even bought him a watch.

"A week ago, Lin Tian was beaten to death by Jia Dongxu."

Director Zhao continued, "But Yi Zhonghai obtained a 'natural death' certificate, intending to settle the matter hastily, but he came back to life at the crematorium."

From that time on, strange things began to happen; one by one, people in the courtyard died, their deaths all extremely gruesome.

He paused, then lowered his voice: "Now some survivors are saying that Lin Tian has 'returned,' but what has returned is not a living person, but... an evil spirit."

Zhang Jianguo dropped the cigarette in his hand to the ground.

He looked at Director Zhao in fear: "You mean... my wife...?"

"They participated in dividing the Lin family's property."

Director Zhao finished speaking for him.

The office was deathly silent.

Only the clock on the wall was ticking.

After a long silence, Zhang Jianguo murmured, "Retribution...this is retribution, but why did they have to harm my two children? They are so innocent..."

He suddenly grabbed Director Zhao's hand, his eyes filled with fear: "Director Zhao, this evil spirit... can we eliminate it completely?"

I...I wasn't involved, but I'm her husband...Could I...?"

Director Zhao remained silent.

He didn't know how to answer.

……

At the same time, in the kitchen of a state-run restaurant in Baoding.

He Daqing was stir-frying vegetables, the firelight reflecting off his weathered face.

He was in his fifties, with some gray hair, but his skills were still there, and the dishes he cooked were delicious and visually appealing.

"Master He, the phone!" the receptionist called out.

He Daqing ladled the food out of the pot, wiped his hands, walked to the front desk, and answered the phone: "Hello, who is this?"

"Is this Comrade He Daqing? This is the Hongxing Police Station in Beijing."

He Daqing's heart skipped a beat.

Police station?

Why would I look for him?

"Yes, this is me. What can I do for you?"

"Comrade He Daqing, we regret to inform you that your son He Yuzhu and daughter He Yushui were tragically murdered this morning..."

He Daqing could no longer hear what was said after that.

He only heard the word "murdered," his ears were ringing, his vision went black, and he almost dropped the phone.

"Hey? Comrade He Daqing? Are you still listening?"

He Daqing opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but his throat seemed to be blocked, and he couldn't make a sound.

Tears welled up unexpectedly and streamed down my cheeks.

"Old He, what's wrong?"

The hotel manager walked over and was startled when he saw him like this.

After hanging up the phone, He Daqing felt completely drained. He slumped into a chair, covered his face with his hands, and his shoulders trembled violently.

"Old He? What's wrong?" the manager asked with concern.

He Daqing raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse: "Manager... I need to ask for leave... to go back to Beijing. The police station just called, my son... my daughter... are both dead..."

……