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

The street where the neighborhood revolutionary committee was located was in complete chaos. Groups of students were chanting slogans.

Several other people were pinned to the ground with their arms tied behind their backs, their destination unknown.

Just then, amidst the chaos, the roar of car engines came from afar, growing louder as they approached. A student with a youthful face turned his head at the sound—a truck was driving towards them, followed by a second, a third, until they formed a long line.

Screech—The convoy stopped abruptly on the side of the road, the tires screeching as they rubbed against the ground.

"Go! Go! Go! Hurry up!" The passenger door of the lead car was flung open, and Team Leader Gou jumped out, waving his hands behind him at the top of his lungs, "Quick! Take control of all these thugs! Show no mercy to those who resist!"

Before the words were even finished, the rear panel of the carriage smashed open with a series of bangs, and militiamen and security personnel jumped out one after another. As soon as they landed, they shouted and rushed to flank the street from both sides. One group rushed straight into the alleys, while the other group rushed straight into the street. In an instant, screams of pain filled the air, mixed with curses and the sound of running footsteps. The whole street was in complete chaos.

The young men who were initially watching the commotion from the base of the wall turned pale and their legs trembled like leaves when they saw this group of people carrying long spears and charging over with a menacing aura.

The clever ones turned and ran, shouting as they went to report the news; those who were slower weren't so lucky and were immediately tackled to the ground.

The butt of the rifle slammed down hard on his back and shoulder blades, sending him tumbling to the ground, his screams growing louder and louder.

Not long after, a black sedan slowly drove into the street corner. Team Leader Gou hurriedly put down what he was doing, ran to the car in a few quick steps, and bent down to open the back door.

A woman got out first, causing Team Leader Gou to pause for a moment in surprise. Then Li Jing'an pushed open the door from the other side and straightened his clothes. The front passenger door opened as well, and a strange man stepped out—the very same man who had been sent by the gear factory as the head of the workers' propaganda team.

"Xiao Gou," Li Jing'an pointed to the middle-aged man, "This is a worker from the gear factory in the street's propaganda team. We're all on the same side. He's leading the team now, so you must cooperate well."

"Yes, Director!" Team Leader Gou stood up straight, his heels together.

The head of the propaganda team nodded to Group Leader Gou, his gaze sweeping over the situation on the street, which was now largely under control. "Director Li, I'll go into the Revolutionary Committee first to see how the committee members are doing." With that, he led Group Leader Gou quickly toward the Revolutionary Committee's courtyard.

Li Jing'an followed behind, frowning as he looked around the street. A large group of people were lying on the ground, some covering their heads, some hunching their shoulders, all being pointed at by the gunmen who had vandalized the steel mill.

A few hotheads were unconvinced and had just propped themselves up to shout something when a militiaman rushed up and shoved a rifle butt into their lower back. They groaned and fell back down.

"You fucking stubborn bastard! You dare to curse me!" Several militiamen who had vandalized the steel mill kicked and shoved, not caring about vital organs at all. One of the young men cursed the most fiercely and showed no mercy in his kicks.

Li Jing'an glanced at them a few times, his face darkening. He suddenly shouted, "What are you doing? In broad daylight, you're beating people up in the street? Who gave you permission to do this?"

The militiamen froze, exchanged glances, and none of them dared to speak, their eyes darting away, avoiding Li Jing'an's gaze.

Li Jing'an gave them a cold glance: "This is outrageous. Drag them into the alley and beat them up."

The militiamen were stunned for a moment, then reacted and grabbed the struggling man, dragging him into a nearby alley.

Just then, a group of people poured out of the courtyard gate, supporting each other. Some were clutching their heads, blood trickling down between their fingers; some had their arms hanging limply, clearly dislocated; and two others were carried out, their faces ashen, their eyes unable to open.

The head of the workers' propaganda team jogged out from behind, stopped in front of Li Jing'an, and caught his breath: "Director Li, most of our Revolutionary Committee members are injured. Could you send a vehicle to take them to the hospital?"

Li Jing'an glanced at the group of disheveled people, their clothes stained with blood, their faces bruised and swollen, and he couldn't help but grit his teeth: "These thugs... they're truly inhuman! They're so ruthless, they're aiming to kill!" He turned and shouted, "Xiao Gou!"

Hearing the shouts, Team Leader Gou quickly ran over from the courtyard gate: "Director Li!"

"Go, arrange a car for all the comrades and get them to the hospital quickly, don't delay!" Li Jing'an waved his hand, then frowned and asked, "Where's the leader? And that guy from your neighborhood surnamed Cui? Is he among them?"

He raised his chin and gestured towards the long row of prisoners lying face down against the wall.

Team Leader Gou followed his gaze and shook his head, saying, "Director Li, I just looked too. This is only a small portion of the students. Most of them are scattered, wandering around the streets. That guy surnamed Cui isn't here."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Li Jing'an's face darkened. He turned to the head of the Workers' Propaganda Team and said, "You take Team Leader Gou and send everyone out to control them! Especially that guy surnamed Cui, we can't let him escape! People like him are a huge threat to society!"

The head of the propaganda team patted his chest, his face beaming with excitement: "Director Li, don't worry! I know this area like the back of my hand. I know which courtyards can hide people and which alleys lead out. I also have a few informants under me; finding out their locations won't be difficult!"

Team Leader Gou immediately left a dozen or so people to guard the captured people, while the rest of the team split into several groups and, following the instructions of the Workers' Propaganda Team leader, scattered into various alleys and lanes.

The street gradually quieted down. Only the figure lying on the ground occasionally let out a few suppressed sobs.

Li Jing'an walked along the roadside step by step, his boots crunching on the gravel. He glanced down at the rows of young people who were covering their heads and dared not move, feeling extremely smug—it felt so good to have people under his feet.

"Hehehe." He couldn't help but smirk and burst out laughing.

A student lying nearby heard the noise and, driven by curiosity, quietly turned his head and slowly raised his eyes to see who was laughing so lewdly.

Li Jing'an caught him looking up out of the corner of his eye. He frowned, raised his right foot without saying a word, and kicked the man in the head.

Bang

The student rolled over on the ground with a thud, then his head lolled to the side, and a trickle of dark red blood slowly seeped from his nose.

Li Jing'an looked down at the dust on the toes of his shoes, spat in the young man's face, and coldly said, "Such a young age and already not learning good things. If your parents don't care, your uncle will."

As soon as he finished speaking, several sounds came faintly from afar—bang, bang, bang, intermittent, as if someone had actually used something.

Li Jing'an listened intently, his expression unchanged, unconcerned. In a city as vast as Beijing, people died every day. Especially during the height of the armed conflict, the rebel organizations were full of ruthless figures who could easily take lives. That was precisely why the Workers' Propaganda Team and the Military Propaganda Team were deployed—to suppress these lawless young rebels.