Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

Cui Liu Lane is located in the southeast of the city. Lin Feng didn't go there immediately. Instead, he circled around, stopping at several morning market stalls. He bought two steaming hot vegetable buns, ate them slowly, and kept an eye out for anyone following him. He then went to an inconspicuous clothing shop, bought a patched tunic more befitting a laborer, changed into it, and casually stuffed his outer garment and felt hat into a bundle, slung it over his shoulder, completely changing his appearance.

After confirming no one was following him, he walked unhurriedly into the alley, his steps steady, but his gaze, like the finest sieve, swept over every door, every window, and every person who brushed past him. Li Si had only said that the accountant might be looking for a woman named "Hong Gu" in Cui Liu Alley, but this alley was a melting pot of brothels, private establishments, and gambling dens; there was probably more than one woman named "Hong Gu." He needed more specific information.

He didn't ask directly; that would be too conspicuous. He was like a real man from the lower class, someone who came here to seek pleasure or do shady things. His gaze lingered on the doors with their suggestive red lanterns or half-open doors, yet he seemed hesitant and wary, as if he were choosing or waiting.

After walking a short distance, he saw a small, dilapidated teahouse in the middle of the alley. It had a greasy cloth awning, two tables with crooked legs, and an old woman with gray hair and a wrinkled face was squatting in front of the stove boiling water. Such places are often the most well-informed yet least noticeable.

Lin Feng walked over and sat down on a bench near the outside. He placed the bundle on his back at his feet and said in a hoarse voice, "Grandma, give me a bowl of the cheapest tea. I'm dying of thirst."

The old woman raised her cloudy eyes and glanced at him, but said nothing. She scooped a bowl of murky tea into a chipped earthenware bowl, placed it in front of him, and stretched out two withered fingers.

Lin Feng took out two copper coins and handed them over. The old woman took them, put them in her bosom, and then bent down to stir the stove fire.

Lin Feng picked up the bowl, blew away the foam, and took a small sip. His gaze seemed to casually sweep across the alley, but his ears were perked up, catching any subtle sounds from the old woman's direction. He noticed that although the old woman appeared frail and senile, her hands were steady as she tended the firewood, and her eyes occasionally flashed with a sharpness beyond her years when they swept across the alley entrance.

This is a man with a story, and he might also be one of the "local bullies" in this alley.

After finishing half a bowl of tea, Lin Feng put down the bowl, sighed, and muttered in a low voice just loud enough for the old woman to hear, "In this godforsaken place, it's so hard to even find someone you know..."

The old woman paused slightly as she tended the firewood. Without looking up, she spoke slowly, her voice hoarse like a broken bellows: "Young man, which acquaintance are you looking for? There are plenty of 'acquaintances' in this Green Willow Lane."

"There's a chance!" Lin Feng's heart leaped with joy, but his face betrayed just the right amount of distress and wariness. He lowered his voice and said, "It's... an accountant surnamed Qian. He said he has a lover here, named... something like 'Hong'? Ugh, my memory! He owes me some wages, and we agreed to meet here today to pay him back, but I've been looking around for ages and haven't seen him anywhere..."

"An accountant surnamed Qian? And her lover is called 'Hong'?" The old woman raised her head, her cloudy eyes staring at Lin Feng for a few seconds, seemingly trying to glean something from his face. "In this alley, there are at least eight or ten women named 'Hong Gu,' 'Hong Jie,' or 'Xiao Hong.' What does the one you're talking about look like? Which shop does she work as an accountant?"

Lin Feng quickly recalled the information Zhou Wenyuan had given him about the accountant (Zhou Wenyuan had briefly mentioned it when assigning the task), describing him as: "Around forty years old, lean, with a small mustache, and a black mole on the corner of his left eye. I heard he used to work as an accountant at a large warehouse in the west of the city, but recently it seems... things haven't been going well for him."

"The west side warehouse... with a black mole at the corner of his eye..." the old woman repeated softly, a hint of understanding flashing in her eyes, but quickly replaced by wariness. "You're looking for him... really for your wages?"

"Grandma, do you think I'm dressed like this for something else?" Lin Feng smiled wryly and shrugged. "It's just that he owes me three months' wages, and we're almost starving. I heard he's been rolling in money lately and keeps coming here, so I thought I'd try my luck."

The old woman stared at him for a moment, seemingly weighing her options. Finally, she lowered her head, poked at the ashes with a fire poker, and said in a barely audible voice, "Go down the alley to the very end, to the house on the right with the crooked willow tree. There's a faded red silk hanging above the door. The proprietress there, nicknamed 'One-Bite Red,' is one of the most well-informed 'madams' in this alley. The accountant you mentioned, I think I went to her place the night before last and stayed for quite a while. As for whether she's there now... this old woman doesn't know."

A crooked willow tree, faded red silk, "One Bite of Red!" Lin Feng memorized it, clasped his hands in a fist salute to the old woman, and whispered, "Thank you for your guidance, Grandma." He then took out two copper coins and placed them on the table, "Tea money."

The old woman didn't look at the money; she just waved her hand, signaling him to leave quickly.

Lin Feng didn't linger any longer. He shouldered his bundle, stood up, and continued walking deeper into the alley. He could feel a gaze following him, until he turned a corner and disappeared. Was it the old woman? Or someone else?

The deeper you go into the alley, the dimmer it gets, and the more dilapidated the buildings on both sides become. There are almost no pedestrians, and only the occasional indistinct sound coming from a crack in a door or window.

Finally, he saw the old, crooked willow tree, its trunk thick and its branches sparse, swaying slightly in the late autumn wind. Beside the willow tree stood a two-story wooden building that looked slightly better than the others, but was still quite old. Sure enough, a piece of faded, worn-out silk cloth, its original bright red almost unrecognizable, hung above the door. The wooden door was tightly closed, with no sign on it, only a few dim lights shining through the cracks.

It is here.

Lin Feng did not immediately knock on the door. He pretended to be passing by, slowly walking past the door, his eyes quickly scanning the structure of the entire wooden building, the position of the windows, and the surrounding environment.

After observing the area, he retreated to a shadowy corner across the alley, where clutter was piled up, and waited patiently. Barging in directly would be the stupidest thing to do; he needed to first ascertain the general situation inside, especially whether the money clerk was really there, and who this "One-Piece Red" was.

About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the wooden door creaked open a crack from the inside. A middle-aged woman, dressed in a faded, peach-colored dress with oil stains on the collar and cuffs, her face smeared with cheap makeup that couldn't hide the fine lines around her eyes and her tired expression, peeked out and looked around. She was slightly plump, with habitually pursed lips that gave her a somewhat mean look, but her eyes held a wariness and shrewdness honed from years of living in the lower rungs of society.

This must be the "One-Bite Red". She seemed to be just routinely checking outside, and finding nothing unusual, she prepared to turn back.

Just then, Lin Feng moved. He didn't walk directly out of his hiding place, but quickly circled around to the side and back of the wooden building, where some broken baskets and tiles were piled up. He aimed at the window with a hole in the paper on the second floor, estimated the distance and angle, took out a sharp-edged shard of porcelain he had picked up on the road from his bundle, and flicked his wrist!

The shard of porcelain traced a low, flat arc and accurately shot through the hole into the second-floor window, followed by a soft "smack," as if it had hit some wooden furniture.

"Who?!" The person downstairs, known as "Yikouhong," had obviously heard the noise and immediately shouted in a low voice, looking up at the second-floor window.

Behind the second-floor window, a figure flickered, as if someone had gone to the window to check, but quickly retreated without opening it.

"Yikouhong" frowned, listened carefully again, and when he heard no other sounds, he cursed "dead cat and stray dog" and slammed the door shut, followed by the sound of the latch being tightened.

But Lin Feng had already achieved his goal. His throw had been precisely calculated in terms of force and angle; the sound of the shards hitting an object would attract attention downstairs without alarming too many people. More importantly, there were people on the second floor! And they reacted quickly and cautiously, without rashly opening a window or making a sound. This was definitely not the reaction of an ordinary customer or prostitute.

The accounting office is very likely on the second floor! And it's under high security.