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

As soon as it was light, Qin Huairu went out with the two yuan in her hand.

The money, damp with sweat from my palms, was slightly soft; one yuan note and two fifty-cent notes, neatly stacked. And then there was the crucial ration book—a dark blue cover, printed with "Beijing Residents' Grain and Oil Supply Certificate," the householder's name changed from "Jia Zhangshi" to "Qin Huairu," and the street office's stamp still smelled of fresh ink.

She walked quickly, but her steps were steady. Her navy blue jacket was faded but clean, and her hair was tied tightly with old strips of cloth, revealing a section of her pale neck. Her face was expressionless, except for a kind of obsessive focus in her eyes.

The grain station was located on Gulou West Street, about a twenty-minute walk from Nanluoguxiang. At this time of day, the streets were mostly filled with workers rushing to their early shifts, their bicycle bells jingling. Qin Huairu walked close to the wall, avoiding the stares and curious glances—the Jia family's affairs had been the talk of the town these past few days, and her face had become a source of "bad luck" and "topic" in the eyes of the neighborhood residents.

A long queue had already formed outside the grain station. Men, women, and children were all there, each carrying grain ration books and bags, some even with vegetable baskets. The queue moved very slowly, and the sounds of abacuses clattering and impatient shouts of the staff could be heard from inside the windows.

Qin Huairu silently joined the end of the line.

An elderly woman was in front of her. She glanced back at her, seemed to recognize her, and a look of sympathy flashed in her eyes. She quickly turned back and subconsciously moved to the side.

Qin Huairu lowered her eyes, pretending not to see.

After waiting in line for almost an hour, it was finally her turn.

"Grain rations." A young woman with two braids stood at the window, not even looking up.

Qin Huairu handed in the grain ration book.

The young woman flipped through the ration book, saw the changed head of household and the bright red seal of the neighborhood committee, then glanced up at her with a complex expression: "The Jia family? They haven't received their rations this month yet. Population..."

"Three," Qin Huairu said calmly, "my two daughters. One is six years old, and the other is four."

The girl was writing in the ledger, reciting the numbers aloud: "Adults get 27 jin per month, six-year-olds get 19 jin, four-year-olds... 15 jin. Coarse grains make up 70%. You'll get... this month..." The abacus beads moved quickly, "46 jin of coarse grains (cornmeal, millet, etc.), 15 jin of refined grains (wheat flour, rice. Four liang of oil coupons, half a jin of meat coupons. Do you have enough money?"

"I brought it." Qin Huairu handed in two yuan. The grain station only accepted money; grain coupons were the proof of payment, and you could collect grain with the coupons.

The girl collected the money, wrote out the receipt, and shouted to the back, "Forty-six catties of coarse grains, fifteen catties of refined grains!"

Someone responded from the warehouse behind.

After waiting for another ten minutes or so, two sacks were handed out of the window: one large, containing golden cornmeal and millet; the other small, containing snow-white flour, and a small packet wrapped in oil paper—the four ounces of oil and half a pound of meat coupons.

Qin Huairu took the bag; it felt heavy in her hand. Forty-six jin plus fifteen jin, totaling sixty-one jin of grain, was her and her two children's food ration for the month, the foundation for their survival.

She carefully held the small sack of flour in her arms, and struggled to carry the large one on her shoulder before turning and leaving.

After walking a few steps, I heard the girl and her colleague whispering to each other outside the window:

"That's the daughter-in-law of the Jia family in Nanluoguxiang? I heard..."

"Shh, keep your voice down. It's so pitiful..."

"What's there to pity? I heard he's dishonest and a swindler..."

Qin Huairu didn't stop walking, but her back straightened even more.

Morning: Gaze in the courtyard

When they returned to the courtyard with the grain, it was already past nine in the morning.

In the courtyard, several women who weren't working were washing and rinsing themselves by the pool. These included Yan Bugui's wife, Third Aunt; Liu Haizhong's wife, Second Aunt; and the Ma family's wife from the front yard. Their laughter and chatter abruptly stopped when they saw Qin Huairu carrying grain in.

Their gazes pierced her like needles. Some scrutinized the grain sack on her shoulder, some peered at her expression, and most wore complex eyes that mixed curiosity, disdain, and a touch of fear.

Qin Huairu walked straight towards the central courtyard without glancing to the side.

The third aunt couldn't help but speak up: "Huai Ru, you went to buy grain? This... you've returned with your grain business?" Her tone was more probing than concerned.

"Hmm." Qin Huairu didn't stop walking, only responding with a snort.

The second aunt pursed her lips, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for Qin Huairu to hear: "Some people, you know, they're just so capable. They commit such a serious crime, yet they still manage to get their grain rations back."

Ma's wife tugged at her second aunt's sleeve but didn't say anything.

Qin Huairu acted as if she hadn't heard anything, walked to the Jia family's door, took out her key, and opened it. The grain sack was heavy, and she struggled to open the door, but she didn't ask anyone for help.

The door opened, she carried the grain inside, and then slammed the door shut.

It isolated them from all outside attention and discussion.

The third and second aunts exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of unease in each other's eyes. The current Qin Huairu was making them a little...apprehensive.

Noon: Chen Fei's observations and adjustments

Chen Fei went out to fetch water at noon, feeling "weak," and happened to witness Qin Huairu carrying grain back.

He stood in the shadows inside his own doorway, watching the slender yet upright figure carrying a heavy sack, watching her indifference in the face of those gazes, and watching the decisive, soft sound of her closing the door.

"She adapted really quickly," Chen Fei thought to himself. This wasn't feigned strength, but a rough and tough resilience born from being pushed to the brink, shedding all illusions and dependencies, leaving only the instinct for survival and maternal responsibility.

This makes Qin Huairu less threatening—her core objective now is to support her child and protect herself, not to harm others. However, she is also less controllable; she is no longer easily manipulated by emotions and words, and her actions are more purposeful and have more boundaries.

For Chen Fei's revenge plan, this is a neutral-to-positive shift. A clear-headed Qin Huairu, only seeking self-preservation, wouldn't actively provoke him; on the contrary, she might do things that benefit him in order to protect herself—for example, this morning when she reported the black market to the police station, she inadvertently helped Chen Fei eliminate a potential threat.

However, we cannot completely let her run wild. We need to keep her under constant pressure to "survive," so that she has no time to think about anything else and cannot accumulate any power that might hinder the plan.

After fetching water and returning to his room, Chen Fei had already made a new plan. He would no longer actively target Qin Huairu in the short term, letting her deal with Yi Zhonghai, Yan Bugui, and others on her own. His focus should be on further escalating the conflict between the three old men, especially between Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong, while simultaneously preparing for his next target—Yan Bugui.

Yan Bugui was calculating and greedy for small gains, but he also possessed the pride and timidity of an intellectual. The investigation could be conducted in a relatively "refined" manner, starting with his loan sharking and hoarding of grain coupons, for example, by having him "accidentally" expose himself.

Afternoon: Yi Zhonghai's troubles and Yan Bugui's panic

Yi Zhonghai didn't go to the factory this afternoon; he took leave.

He sat in his house, with the Selected Works of Mao Zedong spread out on the table in front of him. He had burned the note that had been tucked inside the book, but the words on the note lingered in his mind like a venomous snake.

"Yan Bugui embezzled the confiscated money and goods (grain coupons) from the conference, intending to replace you. He secretly colluded with Liu Haizhong."

In the past, he might not have fully believed it. But at yesterday's meeting, Yan Bugui jumped out to accuse Qin Huairu of "stealing grain coupons," and she did indeed have grain coupons in her hand, and she hadn't even informed him beforehand! This was clearly a blatant disregard for him, a senior figure, and an attempt to establish her authority!

And then there's Liu Haizhong! That ingrate! He wrote a whistleblower letter trying to bring down Deputy Factory Director Li (his backer), and now he's hooked up with Yan Bugui? Trying to work together to take him down?

Yi Zhonghai grew increasingly angry, and the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Yan Bugui was a teacher, literate and numerate, and somewhat respected in the courtyard; he had long coveted Yi Zhonghai's position as "the eldest son." Liu Haizhong, blinded by ambition, had always resented him. It was highly probable that these two would join forces!

No, you can't sit still.

He needs to find a way to put Yan Bugui in a bad position and at the same time completely suppress Liu Haizhong.

Just then, an older woman came back from outside, looking somewhat uneasy: "Old Yi, I heard from the Ma family's daughter-in-law in the front yard that Qin Huairu brought back the grain ration book this morning and bought more than sixty catties of grain."

"What?" Yi Zhonghai was taken aback. "She took the grain ration book? Who gave it to her?"

"She came to ask for it herself, saying that Director Wang from the neighborhood office said it wasn't compliant with regulations," an older woman said. "She seemed like a completely different person today, cold and aloof, not saying a word."

Yi Zhonghai's face darkened further. The grain rations were a crucial tool for him to control Qin Huairu, and they'd been taken back so easily? It must be that Director Wang from the neighborhood committee meddling! And Qin Huairu, how dare she use the neighborhood committee to pressure him?

One problem after another. Yan Bugui and Liu Haizhong might join forces to seize power, Qin Huairu is out of control, and the old lady in the backyard who has always pretended to be deaf and mute has been giving him strange looks lately…

Yi Zhonghai felt increasingly powerless to be this "old man," as if countless unseen hands were secretly pulling him back.

Meanwhile, at Yan Bugui's house in the front yard.

Yan Bugui was so worried about the new note he found in the textbook that he didn't even eat lunch properly.