Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

The door creaked open, and a strong, complex smell rushed out as if it were real—the stench of leftover food, the lingering smell of cooking oil, the musty smell of a poorly ventilated house, and the indescribable "human presence" that a bachelor had been too lazy to clean up.

The room was dimly lit, with tables and chairs placed haphazardly, piled with unwashed dishes, empty bottles, and half-open bags of tobacco. In the corner lay a few wilted cabbages, half a bag of cornmeal, and a few withered cucumbers that had been sitting there for who knows how long. The bedding on the kang (heated brick bed) was rolled up in a messy, dusty ball, exuding a careless, half-hearted attitude.

"Wow! This smells! Zhu Zi, your room is almost as big as our factory's swill bucket!" Xu Damao pinched his nose from behind the crowd and said sarcastically, which drew a burst of suppressed laughter.

Sha Zhu's face turned even redder, and he retorted, "Go to hell, Xu Damao! Is your projection room clean? It reeks of film reel and your own stench!"

Liu Fuguo and Wu Zhengmin frowned, but still put on white gloves and went inside. Wei Chen followed closely behind with Da Huang, while Liu Haizhong, struggling to show her pregnant belly, and Yi Zhonghai also went in to witness the event.

As soon as Dahuang entered the room, its nose twitched violently a few times, clearly overwhelmed by the mixed smells, and it sneezed slightly.

The search began. The police officers moved swiftly, but were clearly at a loss when faced with the "rich" contents of Sha Zhu's room. The kang mat was lifted, revealing several curled-edge, faded copies of "The Three Heroes and Five Gallants" and a few old newspapers left over from pasting the windows.

The ashes from the firewood in the stove hole were shoveled out, leaving only choking dust and a few half-burnt coal nuggets. The wardrobe was opened, and a smell mixed with sweat and oil wafted out. Several work clothes, also stained with oil and with blackened collars, hung haphazardly, with several pairs of tattered socks with exposed big toes and a pair of red underwear with a hole in them.

"Woof!" Big Yellow stopped in front of a broken wooden crate leaning against the corner and barked at it. Sha Zhu's face instantly turned as red as a boiled shrimp, and he muttered, "That broken crate, what valuable stuff could it possibly contain? It's all junk..."

Wu Zhengmin stepped forward, held his breath, and opened the box. Inside, it was even more chaotic: several faded, equally greasy changes of clothes were crumpled into a ball; a broken tea mug with most of its enamel chipped off, revealing its black iron base; several packets of star anise, Sichuan peppercorns, and dried chili peppers wrapped in old newspapers, emitting a strong aroma; and several handwritten cookbooks with curled edges and oil stains.

Wu Zhengmin frowned, enduring the smell as he carefully searched through the clothes. At the very bottom of the pile of clothes, he found a small cloth bag tightly wrapped in an equally greasy old towel.

Unwrapping the layers of packages, inside was a thick stack of crumpled, oil-stained bills and loose coins. The largest denominations were several one-yuan notes, along with a few crumpled ration coupons printed with the words "Local Grain Coupons of Beijing." Wu Zhengmin quickly counted them and loudly announced, "He Yuzhu's family, 103.72 yuan in cash, and a number of grain coupons."

"Only a little over a hundred?" "Isn't Sha Zhu a level nine chef? His salary is over thirty yuan a month! How come he only has this little left?"

"Always talking about eating and drinking well, so all your money goes down the drain? All you've got is scraps?" "Tsk tsk, bragging about eating out, huh? More like a garbage can!"

A murmur rippled through the courtyard, low yet crystal clear, filled with surprise and undisguised mockery. This paltry sum, compared to Yan Bugui's mountains of gold and silver, was like a beggar encountering a god of wealth! It starkly contrasted with Sha Zhu's usual boast of being "not short of money," making it a living joke.

Sha Zhu's face flushed red instantly, as if he had been stripped naked in public, and felt a burning pain, wishing he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

He stiffened his neck and shouted at the door, but his voice clearly lacked confidence: "What are you looking at! Haven't you ever seen someone spend money before? All the money I earn goes to food and drink! So what? Is it illegal? It's still better than some people who are so stingy that even their own sons are starving!"

His words were clearly a veiled criticism of Yan Bugui, but to the others, they sounded more like a fig leaf for Sha Zhu to put on a brave face.

His eyes darted away, especially when they swept over Qin Huairu's side. Qin Huairu's eyes, filled with complex emotions, made him feel even more embarrassed—Qin Huairu had "borrowed" money from him several times before, in amounts of five or ten yuan, adding up to several tens of yuan, which he had been too embarrassed to ask for back.

Now that his pitiful "family background" has been exposed, he feels as if his face has been trampled on by Qin Huairu, no, by the entire hospital. His inexplicable feelings for Qin Huairu have also been exposed to the light of day, making him feel utterly ashamed.

"Alright! If there are no problems, let's move on to the next one." Liu Fuguo interrupted the awkward situation in a deep voice, turning his gaze to Yi Zhonghai, "To ensure fairness and impartiality, and to eliminate any suspicion, search Comrade Yi Zhonghai's house again! Make sure nothing is missed!"

Yi Zhonghai's body trembled violently, as if he had been lashed hard by an invisible whip. His cloudy eyes struggled to move, looking at the familiar door of his own home, which now seemed like the gates of hell. His eyes were filled with resistance, deep-seated pain, and a deeper despair.

To go back and rummage through that home, already ransacked and as if its heart had been ripped out? To confront that bloody wound again? That would be tantamount to tearing the wound open once more, sprinkling salt on it, and exposing it to the scorching sun!

But his lips trembled a few times, and he made a "hoarse" sound in his throat. In the end, he didn't dare to say a single "no." He just nodded weakly, and his whole body hunched over even more.

The door to the Yi family's house was opened again. The furnishings inside remained the same, but a heavy, suffocating atmosphere of despair permeated the air, as if even the dust exuded death and coldness. An old woman sat blankly on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), staring vacantly at the ground, unresponsive to the people who entered, like a clay sculpture that had lost its soul.

The search was almost mechanically repetitive. The police officers symbolically checked a few places they had previously searched: neatly folded but stale clothes in the closet, cold ashes in the stove, and broken baskets piled with miscellaneous items in the corner...

Everything was as before, lifeless. Finally, Wu Zhengmin once again took out the few dozen yuan in loose change from the familiar iron box in the wardrobe: "Comrade Yi Zhonghai's family, thirty-seven yuan and fifty-six cents in cash, no other large sums of money."

The outcome was predictable. Yi Zhonghai closed his eyes in pain, his body swaying uncontrollably, only managing to stay upright thanks to the strong arm of the police officer beside him.

He felt like an empty puppet, repeatedly dragged to the marketplace for display, stripped of all its treasures. Each search relentlessly reminded him of the bloody, cold truth: his money was gone! Utterly gone! Half a lifetime's worth of hard work, gone to waste! A profound sense of emptiness engulfed him.

However, during this seemingly fruitless second search, Wei Chen, who was following beside him and appeared to be just quietly observing, used his powerful mental energy like an invisible probe to silently scan every corner and every crack in the brickwork of the Yi family's house once again.

This time, he "saw" deeper and more meticulously. Inside the earthen bed where Yi Zhonghai and the old woman slept, behind an inconspicuous, slightly dark-colored adobe brick near the stove's flue, his spiritual power detected an extremely faint spot, concealed by layers of adobe bricks and deliberately smoothed-out marks!

It was a small, tightly wrapped compartment made of multiple layers of thick oilcloth and moisture-proof waxed paper! Inside, there were some very interesting things: a dozen letters! It seems that it's not impossible that some of the younger versions of He Daqing used to send letters and living expenses to Sha Zhu and Yu Shui.

There are also detailed records of how Yi Zhonghai secretly gave several valuable items to the then-director of the street office in charge of this area (who has since been transferred) in order to smoothly become the "elder" of the courtyard house!

There was also a promissory note with a bright red handprint. It turned out that a few years ago, Jia Dongxu had lost a lot of money gambling and was in debt. When he was desperate, he secretly asked Yi Zhonghai for money. Yi Zhonghai was afraid that the matter would be exposed and affect his image as a "moral exemplar". He lent him fifty dollars to save his life, but made him write this promissory note.

Wei Chen sneered inwardly. What a hypocritical, morally upright "old man"! Not only did he possess a huge amount of ill-gotten gains, but he was also involved in these shady dealings! Bribery, coercion, hoarding other people's letters... any one of these acts would be enough to ruin his reputation!

He remained calm and quickly withdrew his mental energy, preventing Big Yellow, whose sense of smell and perception were extremely sharp, from revealing these things.

He glanced at Yi Zhonghai, whose face was ashen and who looked like a walking corpse, his eyes as cold as frost. Now is not the time to lift the lid.

These "evidence" are like the Sword of Damocles hanging over Yi Zhonghai's head, the hilt held firmly in Wei Chen's hand. If Yi Zhonghai is sensible enough to back down and behave himself, Wei Chen can pretend he didn't see it for the time being. But if he's still up to no good and dares to provoke him again, or tries to use moral intimidation again...

Wei Chen's lips curled into a faint yet chilling smile. Then don't blame him for settling both old and new scores, tearing away this "Moral Venerable's" last shred of decency, ensuring he could never rise again!

This was the "ultimate killing move" that Wei Chen had reserved for himself, a move powerful enough to deliver a fatal blow.

"Next, the Jia family!" Liu Fuguo's voice interrupted Wei Chen's thoughts and struck Jia Zhangshi's heart like a death knell.

"No! You can't search! Why are you searching my house?! You bastards! You're bullying an orphan and a widow!" Jia Zhangshi screamed like a cat whose tail had been stepped on and who had been doused with boiling water. She instantly burst into a shrill scream and jumped with astonishing speed!