I feel right at home in the world of the courtyard house.

A little while later, an older woman returned with a boy who looked about eight or nine years old. The boy was clearly a little scared, hiding behind his parents and looking timidly at the people filling the yard.

Yi Zhonghai pointed at Xu Damao: "Kid, look closely. Wasn't it him who gave you candy and made you say those things this afternoon?"

All eyes were on the boy. The boy looked at Xu Damao for a long while, then hesitated before saying, "I...I don't remember what he looks like, because he was wearing a mask. But his face shape...is quite long."

He looked at Xu Damao again, "It's a bit like him, but a bit unlike him... That mask might be a bit small, his chin is showing."

"That's him!" Sha Zhu shouted immediately.

Madam Jia Zhang also started cursing: "Xu Damao, you despicable bastard! You think you can bully us because we don't have a man in our family? I'll fight you to the death!" As she spoke, she was about to rush forward, but Qin Huairu held her back tightly.

Xu Damao grew anxious and stepped forward: "Child, look again carefully! Listen to my voice, isn't it the same person from this afternoon?"

The boy shook his head: "I can't remember the voice... I just remember the face was long..."

Upon seeing this, the boy's parents quickly pulled their child away, saying, "Our child is young and doesn't understand, please forgive him, gentlemen." They then hurriedly left, afraid of getting into trouble.

Liu Haizhong slammed his fist on the table: "Xu Damao, what else do you have to say? It was clearly you who secretly ran back from the factory this afternoon and instructed the kids to do it!"

"I'm innocent!" Xu Damao was almost in tears. "It really wasn't me! Second Uncle, you can't be so arbitrary!"

Sha Zhu rolled up his sleeves and was about to rush forward again, but Liu Guangtian and Yan Jiecheng held him back tightly.

Lou Xiao'e stepped forward again, this time her voice was exceptionally calm: "Gentlemen, neighbors, I admit that no one can prove that Da Mao was at the factory this afternoon, but what solid evidence do you have to prove that he did it? Just because the child said 'his face is a bit long'? Da Mao isn't the only one in our neighborhood with a long face, is he? Second Uncle, your face isn't short either."

Someone in the crowd couldn't help but laugh out loud, and Liu Haizhong's face immediately darkened.

"Lou Xiao'e, what are you saying!" Liu Haizhong scolded.

"What I'm trying to say is that investigations must be based on evidence, not guesswork," Lou Xiao'e said firmly. "If we can convict someone today based on a child's vague identification, then tomorrow anyone can be wrongly accused? Is there no justice left in our court?"

These words silenced everyone. Yi Zhonghai frowned, while Yan Bugui nodded thoughtfully.

Lou Xiao'e continued, "Since there is no conclusive evidence, it cannot be said to be Da Maoqian's. As for his whereabouts in the afternoon, no one in the factory can confirm it, but that doesn't prove he definitely returned either. At most, it's a point of suspicion, not evidence."

Xu Damao looked at his wife with gratitude, his eyes even a little red.

Yi Zhonghai pondered for a moment before finally speaking: "Xiao'e is right. There is indeed no conclusive evidence that Xu Damao was responsible for today's incident. But Xu Damao, your actions this afternoon were indeed suspicious. You should be more careful in the future. Meeting adjourned."

"Is that all?" Madam Jia protested. "My grandson was bullied for nothing?"

"So what do you want?" Yi Zhonghai retorted. "Without evidence, what can we do?"

Xu Damao covered his eyes, indignantly saying, "I got beaten up for nothing! Sha Zhu, this isn't over!"

Sha Zhu sneered, "Are you saying I'm afraid of you? Let me tell you, Xu Damao, I'm watching you. Sooner or later I'll find something on you!"

Lou Xiao'e tugged at Xu Damao: "Alright, let's go home." Then she asked in a low voice, "Really not you?"

Xu Damao stamped his foot in frustration: "Even you don't believe me? I swear, it really wasn't me! If I did it, may I be struck by lightning!"

"If this doesn't work, let's call the police. I can't let this beating go unpunished," Xu Damao said, unwilling to give up.

Looking at him, Lou Xiao'e's heart wavered. She knew her husband, but judging from his reaction this time, perhaps it really wasn't him.

"Alright, let's go home and apply the medicine first. What's the use of calling the police? At most, they'll just criticize Sha Zhu. You can't even explain what you did this afternoon." She sighed and pulled Xu Damao away.

The crowd gradually dispersed, discussing the matter in small groups. Most people still harbored doubts about Xu Damao, but they also felt that Lou Xiao'e's words made sense—there was indeed no conclusive evidence.

Li Jing'an watched the crowd disperse, wondering if that was the end of it. He shook his head and pushed his bicycle toward the backyard.

Back in his house, Li Jing'an took out the half-eaten chicken from yesterday and put it on the stove to heat it up. The aroma slowly wafted out.

"I need to go to bed early tonight to conserve my energy for the big battle that may come tomorrow," Li Jing'an muttered to himself, taking a bite of chicken.

It was already completely dark, and the atmosphere in the Jia family was so heavy it could be squeezed out of the ground.

No one ate dinner. Banggeng lay in bed, his head covered by the blanket, still sobbing softly. Jia Zhangshi sat on the edge of the kang (heated brick bed), sewing shoe soles with frightening force as she pierced the fabric, muttering curses incessantly: "That damned Xu Damao, may he die a horrible death..."

Qin Huairu sat at the table, her eyes red and swollen, lost in thought. Her mind was a jumbled mess. She felt more heartbroken than anyone else that Bang Geng had been bullied.

But Lou Xiao'e's words at today's meeting made her uneasy—what if it really wasn't Xu Damao? But if it wasn't Xu Damao, then who could it be?

"Mom, do you think... it might not really be Xu Damao?" Qin Huairu asked softly.

Madam Jia paused in her needlework, then looked up and glared at her: "Who else could it be but him? Besides him, who else in our courtyard is so despicable?"

Qin Huairu sighed and stopped talking. She got up and went to the inner room, lifting the quilt. The child's eyes were swollen shut from crying, and there were still tear stains on his face.

"Bang Geng, tell Mom what else those kids said?" Qin Huairu asked softly.

Banggeng sobbed, "They said... they said I was a child without a father, that our family was so poor we could only beg for food... and they pushed me and hit me..." He started crying again as he spoke.

Qin Huairu's heart ached as if it had been pricked by needles. She held the child in her arms and gently coaxed, "Don't cry, Mommy's here. Although our family isn't rich, Mommy will work hard to make sure you have enough to eat and wear, and that we don't have to beg for food from other people's homes."

"They also said... that the clothes I wear are all hand-me-downs from other people..." Bang Geng cried even harder.

Qin Huairu looked down at her son's tattered clothes, and tears finally fell.

Qin Huairu finally managed to coax Banggeng to sleep. She sat on the edge of the bed, seemingly lost in thought.

Finally, she reached out and grasped the drawer handle. The cool touch made her fingertips tremble slightly. She paused, then gently pulled open the drawer. The drawer slide made a soft, hesitant creak.

The drawer wasn't filled with many items, but they were arranged neatly, revealing a sense of care and cherishing in daily life.

Her gaze swept over the odds and ends and landed on the innermost part of the drawer, on a plain handkerchief folded squarely.

The handkerchief was slightly faded from washing, but the edges remained neat. She leaned over and took it out, holding it in her palm. The handkerchief wasn't heavy, but at that moment it seemed to have gained some weight.

She didn't open it immediately, but instead gently and repeatedly stroked the fine cotton texture of the handkerchief with her thumb, as if there were some illegible words written on it.

Her lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes filled with struggle and a barely perceptible pity. The light from the window slanted in, casting a small, trembling shadow beneath her lowered eyelashes.

After a moment, as if finally making an unchangeable decision, she took a deep breath and, with slightly slow but firm movements, untied the handkerchief layer by layer. What was wrapped inside was revealed—several tickets. She stared at the tickets, her gaze complex.

Her fingertips lightly brushed over several tickets, finally stopping on one of the pale pink ones. The ticket had words clearly printed on it, and was stamped with their factory's bright red official seal.

Those were factory perks—bath tickets.