Kill the beasts in the courtyard, I fled to Hong Kong, surrounded by beauties on both sides.

Just past midnight, all was quiet.

Chen Fei was deep in sleep when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart tightly. He opened his eyes abruptly and, in the darkness, saw the golden mark on his chest flashing a dark red light wildly.

[Warning: The original owner's resentment has begun its first backlash]

[Countdown: If you fail to kill your first enemy within seven days, the backlash will intensify with each subsequent attack]

As the system's mechanical voice echoed in my mind, a chilling cold shot up my spine and straight to the top of my head.

"Ugh—" Chen Fei gritted his teeth, but still couldn't help but let out a suppressed cry of pain.

This wasn't physical pain, but a tearing sensation at the level of the soul. He felt as if his consciousness had been forcibly ripped in two, one half being Chen Fei, the modern-day hoodlum who had transmigrated, and the other half being the original body, filled with resentment and dying with eyes wide open.

Countless fragments of memory pierced my mind like knives:

—The unwilling look in my father Chen Jianguo's eyes when he was hit by a steel ingot;

—Mother Li Xiulan collapsed in the textile workshop, her fingers still in a position as if trying to grasp something;

—Little sister Chen Xiaoyu struggled in the icy river, her small hand reaching out of the water, but no one came to her rescue…

The clearest memories are of the original owner's last three months. Her parents and sister died tragically one after another, and the beasts in the yard relentlessly pursued her. Every night, the original owner would curl up on this hard bed, listening to the laughter and merriment of the beasts outside the window, swallowing despair and fear alone.

That deep-seated hatred erupted completely at this moment.

Chen Fei felt warm liquid flowing from his seven orifices. He raised his hand to wipe it, and in the moonlight streaming in from the window, he saw a dark red stain on his hand—it was blood.

Blood was seeping from the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

At the same time, terrifying hallucinations began to appear before my eyes.

In the corner, a little girl, soaking wet, slowly emerged. She was wearing the faded floral cotton-padded jacket—Chen Xiaoyu's favorite. Her wet hair clung to her pale face, her lips were bluish-purple, and her eyes stared blankly at him.

"Brother..." the illusion spoke, its voice seeming to come from the water, accompanied by gurgling sounds, "The water is so cold... so cold..."

Chen Fei felt as if his heart had been pierced by an ice pick.

"Xiaoyu..." he said in a hoarse voice.

"Brother, Banggeng pushed me... He was standing on the shore laughing..." Chen Xiaoyu's hallucination floated forward a step, leaving a wet trail behind her. "He said I was a worthless piece of trash... He deserved to die..."

"Brother knows," Chen Fei gritted his teeth, struggling against the surge of resentment, "Brother will avenge you."

"When?" Chen Xiaoyu's illusion suddenly drew closer, her pale face almost touching Chen Fei's. "I've been waiting for so long... The water is so cold..."

As she spoke, the illusion suddenly reached out her hand, her hands white and swollen from being soaked in water, with river mud under her fingernails. Her hand pierced through Chen Fei's chest; there was no tangible sensation, but Chen Fei felt as if his heart had been frozen.

"Brother, you won't avenge me... Have you forgotten about Xiaoyu?" The illusion's voice turned mournful.

"No!" Chen Fei roared, "Brother hasn't forgotten! Tomorrow! Tomorrow brother will avenge you!"

"Really?" The illusion tilted its head, a strange smile appearing on its childlike face. "Brother, you have to keep your word... otherwise, Xiaoyu will be angry..."

As the words fell, the illusion began to dissipate. But before it completely vanished, Chen Fei saw two more figures appear behind the illusion—

Chen Jianguo, wearing blue overalls, had a dark red patch on his chest; Li Xiulan, wearing an apron, had a deathly pale face.

They watched Chen Fei silently, their eyes filled with grief, resentment, but even more so with anticipation.

The father opened his mouth, but no sound came out. However, Chen Fei understood the shape of his lips: "Revenge..."

The mother raised her hand and pointed out the window—that was the direction of the Jia family's house.

Then, all three illusions vanished simultaneously.

Chen Fei collapsed onto the bed, gasping for breath. The bleeding from his seven orifices had stopped, but his face, neck, and clothes were covered in blood, making him look gruesome and terrifying.

The sharp pain in my chest gradually subsided, but the feeling of my soul being torn apart remained.

He struggled to sit up, groped his way to the water vat in the dark, and scooped water to wash the blood off his face. The cold water stimulated his skin, making him slightly more alert.

[The backlash from resentment has ended]

Current body control level: 90%

[Warning: If your primary enemy is not killed within seven days, the next backlash will reduce your control level to 70%, accompanied by more severe hallucinations and physical damage.]

The system notification sound was cold and indifferent.

Chen Fei dried his face and looked at his reflection in the basin of water. His face was pale, and his eyes were bloodshot, but his gaze was more determined than ever before.

"Bang Geng," he murmured the name, "tomorrow will be your death day."

Early morning: Maintaining disguise

Chen Fei got up just as dawn was breaking.

As usual, he "weakly" carried the bucket to fetch water, but his condition was worse than the previous days—and he wasn't faking it. Although the backlash from last night's resentment had ended, the physical strain was real. He genuinely felt weak all over and his steps were unsteady.

In the courtyard, Qin Huairu was washing clothes by the pool. Seeing Chen Fei, she paused, then exclaimed in surprise, "Little Chen, why do you look so pale?"

Chen Fei coughed twice: "It's nothing, I probably just caught a cold."

"You've really caught a cold," Qin Huairu put down the clothes she was holding and came over to help him. "Look at you, you can barely stand. Should we go to the hospital?"

"No need," Chen Fei waved his hand, "I'll just lie down."

As he spoke, he deliberately staggered. Qin Huairu quickly steadied him, feeling the icy coldness of Chen Fei's arm.

"You..." Qin Huairu hesitated for a moment, "How about I go talk to that old man and ask him to give you some of your father's pension so you can go to the hospital for a checkup?"

Chen Fei sneered inwardly. Yi Zhonghai would give money? Dream on.

But he showed a grateful expression: "Thank you, Sister Qin, but there's no need to trouble Uncle. I'm really fine."

After saying that, he picked up the bucket and walked back unsteadily.

Qin Huairu watched his retreating figure, her eyes filled with complex emotions. She recalled the events of the previous night: the note that read "Thieves will die a horrible death," and the footsteps she heard in the middle of the night…

This courtyard is getting more and more eerie.

Chen Fei returned to the room, closed the door, and the "weakness" on his face instantly disappeared. He walked to the bedside, sat down, and began to practice the traditional Chinese martial arts breathing technique to regulate his breathing.

He was too exhausted last night and needs to recover as soon as possible. He still needs to carry out the plan this afternoon, so he must have enough physical and mental strength.

An hour later, Chen Fei opened his eyes. Although he hadn't fully recovered, at least he could move around freely.

He got up and took out some things from the system space: a thin rope, a few scraps of cloth, and a small bottle of lard—which he had "borrowed" from the Jia family's kitchen yesterday.

He needs to get rid of these things without leaving any trace.

Morning: Yi-Liu conflict escalates

At nine o'clock in the morning, a fierce argument broke out in the courtyard.

In the Intermediate People's Court, Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong stood face to face, both with grim expressions.

"Old Liu, what do you mean?" Yi Zhonghai asked, suppressing his anger. "Did you put that photo there?"

"What photos?" Liu Haizhong feigned ignorance. "Old Yi, explain yourself clearly."

"Still pretending?" Yi Zhonghai sneered. "Who else but you could put that prohibited photo in my book in my house?"