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

Meanwhile, at the entrance of a police station in Beijing, dusk was falling.

Li Jing'an's two cousins, Li Jingtang and Li Jingting, walked out of the police station looking dejected. Outside, their father—Li Jing'an's uncle—was standing with the police officers, talking in hushed tones.

"Dad!" The two of them immediately showed a hint of joy on their faces when they saw their father, and called out in unison.

Hearing the shout, Li Jing'an's uncle turned around. His expression first brightened, then his face darkened abruptly, his brows furrowing as he berated his two sons, "You two good-for-nothings! You're not children anymore, and you keep getting me into these kinds of inconsiderate situations!"

"Dad, I just... we saw you arguing with the Wang family, and they were saying such nasty things. I can't just pretend I didn't hear or see it, can I?" Li Jingtang argued, sticking out his neck.

"Get out of my way!" Uncle was even more furious at his eldest son, Li Jingtang's, burly but reckless appearance. "We're all neighbors, even tongues clash with teeth sometimes! It's just a couple of arguments, a few words exchanged, is it necessary for you to step in? Do you think you're so great? You went up and hit him with a brick, and he's still in the hospital! Do you think you can give me a break?"

He grew angrier as he spoke, his chest heaving violently: "If your cousin Jing'an hadn't put in a good word, there's no telling when you two would have been able to get out!"

The two sons stood there sheepishly, not daring to utter a sound, after being scolded by their father.

Seeing this, the police station chief quickly tried to smooth things over with a smile: "Alright, alright, Lao Li, don't be angry anymore. These kinds of things happen all the time, neighborhood disputes, fights, brawls, what's the big deal? Just be careful not to go too far in the future. Don't kill him."

"Thank you, thank you, Director." Li Jing'an's uncle hurriedly bowed and thanked the director.

"Oh, don't thank me," the director waved his hand and smiled meaningfully. "This is what the leaders told me. They said we're all on the same side, we're all family."

Li Jing'an's cousin looked at the two brothers, who were standing there like wooden stakes, and frowned even more deeply: "What are you all standing there for? Hurry up and come over to thank the director!"

The two then seemed to snap out of their daze and hurriedly stepped forward, bowing and scraping as they thanked the director.

The station chief smiled and waved, watching the three of them walk away into the distance. Only after they disappeared around the street corner did the smile fade from his face. He shook his head and muttered to himself, "Sigh, it's always easier to get things done if you have connections in high places."

After saying that, he turned and walked into the police station.

As soon as I stepped through the gate, a police officer came running up to me, looking flustered: "Chief! Chief! Something's happened!"

"What is it? What is it?" the director asked impatiently as he walked inside.

"Here's the thing, Chief," the officer said, catching his breath and lowering his voice, "We just got a call from the hospital. One of the two people who were hospitalized after yesterday's fight... just passed away in the hospital."

"What?!" The police chief stopped abruptly, turning to look at the officer with a shocked expression. "What happened? It was just one person with a head injury and one with a broken leg, right? How did it get so serious? Which one died?"

"It was that guy with the head injury. He looked fine at the time, and the checkup yesterday was normal. He was still under observation today. But who knew that today, for some reason, he... he just passed away. It just happened."

After finishing his sentence, the officer looked at the silent station chief and cautiously suggested, "Chief, those two who committed the assault haven't gone far. Should we... stop them?"

The director stood there, his expression shifting between light and dark, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

the next day.

Li Jing'an pushed open the gate of his uncle's house and stepped into the main room. He immediately sensed that the atmosphere inside was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

"Uncle, what exactly happened?" Li Jing'an walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down, breaking the deathly silence.

"Ugh, those two good-for-nothings!" Uncle suddenly looked up, glared at his two sons, then sighed heavily, his voice filled with deep exhaustion. "Jing'an, they were fine yesterday. I just picked them up from the police station, thinking this was the end of it. Who knew the police would come knocking again that very day? They said... they said someone from next door couldn't make it to the hospital yesterday and died!"

"What?" Li Jing'an frowned sharply, leaning forward instinctively. "Uncle, didn't you say before that one person had a broken head and the other had a broken arm? How did it suddenly turn into a fatality? It's that serious?"

"Who knows!" Uncle took a couple of irritable puffs on his cigarette, sighing with a worried expression. "He seemed fine at the time, otherwise how could he have gotten your two cousins ​​out so easily yesterday? Who knew that old man was so frail!"

Li Jing'an's fingers tapped lightly on the table, his mind racing. He glanced around and asked in a low voice, "Where are his family? Why haven't we seen anyone come to cause trouble?"

"Hey, they're all at the hospital watching over him right now. Doesn't he also have a broken bone lying in the hospital at home?" Uncle waved his hands repeatedly, his face clouded with worry.

"Uncle, are you familiar with this family of neighbors? Where do they live?" Li Jing'an continued to ask, trying to clarify the relationship between them.

"How can we not know each other? We're from the same farm, we see each other all the time. His house is just over there, not far from here." My uncle scratched his head in anguish. "You've said something so terrible, how can our family hold our heads high in this area anymore? And the worst part is, what will happen to your two cousins!"

"Uncle, don't panic. What's done is done, there's no use in rushing. The most important thing now is to figure out a solution," Li Jing'an quickly reassured him. He then turned to his two silent cousins ​​in the corner, his gaze returning to his uncle. "Hasn't the police station given us a clear answer? What are they planning to do?"

"They didn't give us a definite answer! Didn't they send someone to inform us? They told us to quickly find a solution, giving us two days to see how to reach a private settlement. Otherwise, if their family makes a scene, they'll definitely put your two cousins ​​in jail first!"

Upon hearing the word "imprisonment," Li Jing'an's eyes narrowed slightly. He stared at the ashtray on the table and muttered to himself, "Yesterday? How can we prove yesterday that my cousin killed him? Maybe he had some kind of illness, or maybe it was a sudden medical emergency..."

"What? Jing'an, what did you say?" Uncle didn't hear clearly and leaned closer to ask.

"It's nothing, Uncle, don't worry too much, the sky won't fall down." Li Jing'an waved his hand, his face showing a reassuring expression.

He stood up, walked to the corner, and his sharp gaze swept over his two cousins ​​before suddenly stopping on Li Jingtang's face. He frowned, pointed to the red marks on Li Jingtang's cheek, and asked, "Jingtang, what happened to your face? Did you get beaten up at the police station?"

Upon hearing this, Li Jingtang subconsciously raised his hand, touched his cheek, and replied in a muffled voice, "Brother, it wasn't the police station that hit me. It was from when we were fighting that day, when the other side scratched me."

"Hmm?" Li Jing'an's eyes flashed, as if he had caught some crucial information. He stared intently into Li Jingtang's eyes and pressed, "Really? The person who scratched you wasn't caught? If you two actually fought, then the nature of the incident changes; it would be considered mutual assault, right?"

When Li Jing'an said this, everyone in the room was stunned. His uncle and two younger cousins ​​looked at him blankly, not understanding why he suddenly asked this.

"Ah...we don't understand these things." Li Jingtang scratched his head, looking both honest and helpless.

"Who scratched you? Was it the deceased?" Li Jing'an ignored their confusion and continued to press forward.

"No." Li Jingtang shook his head and answered honestly, "The one who scratched me is still in the hospital, the one with the broken arm. His father died."