Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Don't touch my parents!

"Wife, keep a close eye on Zhuzi these days, don't let him run around outside."

He Daqing's tone was somewhat heavy.

"Zhu Zi asked the doctor to go to Dongtangzi Hutong... where a Japanese soldier died."

The city is under martial law now; they might search our area any day now.

"what?"

Chen Shuxiang was startled.

"Someone died? Will Doctor Lin... be alright?"

"It's hard to say."

He Daqing sighed heavily.

"You can't go into that alley anymore."

I hope he is safe... Good people should always be rewarded.

What kind of world is this?

"Couldn't you... ask someone to bring Dr. Lin out?"

"How can we say we owe him two lives?"

"I'm just a cook."

He Daqing shook his head with a wry smile.

"How could I possibly have such great abilities?"

My legs went weak when I saw Japanese people.

Those beasts... they kill people like stepping on ants, without even blinking an eye.

"Sigh... I hope he can escape this calamity."

He Yuzhu listened intently, his consciousness gradually sinking into the system space.

The corpses in the corner are still frozen stiff; they need to be disposed of as soon as possible.

The Japanese have lost three soldiers, so they will definitely search the entire city.

If the investigation leads to ordinary citizens, who knows how many wrongful convictions will be made.

It would be best to dump the body in the territory of the traitors or the Japanese.

But where can he find those places?

They had no idea which traitor was hiding in which place or where the Japanese were stationed.

The most troublesome thing is that he is only ten years old.

At this age, going out is inconvenient in many ways.

Adults might be able to disguise themselves and hide it.

A teenager stands out wherever he goes.

Just as I was worrying, a panel suddenly popped up in front of me.

[Mission: To reduce harm to civilians in Beiping by the Japanese army, the bodies of Japanese soldiers must be disposed of tonight.]

【Destination: Beiping Police Station (Qianmen Public Security Street)】

He Yuzhu felt a little relieved.

Police station? Thank goodness, they didn't send him directly to a dangerous place like the military police headquarters.

"Zhu Zi is awake? If he's awake, get up."

He Daqing's voice came from the outer room.

"Why."

"You little rascal, you can really eat and sleep a lot."

He Daqing laughed and cursed.

"If it weren't for your father being a good cook, I really couldn't afford to feed you with your appetite."

He Yuzhu silently rolled his eyes in his mind.

How can you call me a big eater? You've never seen a truly big eater.

"How could you say that about my son?"

Chen Shuxiang immediately protected her son.

"You go out to earn money, isn't it to support us, your mother and children?"

"Okay, okay."

He Daqing was amused.

"The money I earn is for you and your children to spend."

Sigh, what a life of toil!

"What are you standing there for? Go cook."

"Zhu Zi, hurry up and start a fire! We'll stew another chicken today!"

"Okay!"

He Yuzhu rolled off the kang (a heated brick bed), put on his shoes, and strode into the kitchen.

He glanced at the stove—a string of cured meat was hanging next to the chest of drawers.

Upon opening the drawer, I found that there were more than a dozen extra eggs.

It seems this is the "harvest" He Daqing brought back today.

He Daqing went out with a knife, ready to kill a chicken.

Jia Zhangshi didn't come out to cause trouble today—the weather was just too cold.

It's better to stay indoors and warm yourself by the fire.

Jia Dongxu originally wanted to go see He Yuzhu in the afternoon, but He Yuzhu was sleeping and didn't go out.

He was outside freezing for most of the day, and in the end he had no choice but to go home with his neck hunched over.

When he got home, he was bound to be complained about and be scolded by Jia Zhangshi.

In the evening, as usual, chicken soup was brought to the old lady.

The old lady specifically instructed He Daqing to be extra careful when going out to do errands.

He Daqing recounted the story of a Japanese soldier who died in Dongtangzi Hutong.

The old lady frowned after hearing this.

This is too much of a coincidence.

But how could she possibly think of such a thing as her own grandson?

All he could do was repeatedly remind He Daqing: Make sure to keep a close eye on Zhuzi and don't let him run around.

After dinner, He Yuzhu insisted on going back to his side room to sleep.

"My younger sister cried so hard in the middle of the night that I couldn't sleep."

He Daqing raised his hand to slap him, but Chen Shuxiang stopped him.

"Go and light the stove in the side room. Once it's warm, take your son over there."

Chen Shuxiang could tell that her son was hiding something, so she simply went along with his wishes.

This is a good opportunity for the couple to have a chat.

My son is more sensible now, and there are some things that are really not suitable for him to hear.

The night deepened.

Darkness, like thick, unyielding ink, heavily enveloped the city of Beijing.

The cold wind, carrying fine snowflakes, kept pounding against the doors and windows.

The rustling sound was especially clear in the quiet night.

He Yuzhu lay on the earthen bed in the side room, his eyes wide open, staring intently at the window.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, spreading out a pale, cold halo.

Next door, He Dajun was snoring evenly, like the slow and rhythmic snoring of an old pendulum.

He got up quietly and put on a thick cotton coat.

Then he carefully put on his hat and tightened his scarf.

"Creak—"

The door was pushed open a crack, and a gust of cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed in, making him shiver.

He hunched his neck and wrapped his cotton-padded coat even tighter.

She tiptoed out the door.

The courtyard was so quiet that you could hear the faint sound of snowflakes falling to the ground.

All the houses were dark, with only the sound of the wind howling and whispering.

The occasional howl of wild dogs in the distance added a chilling eeriness to the cold night.

He dared not walk out of the backyard—fearing that leaving his footprints in the snow would arouse suspicion.

So he turned and moved toward the front gate of the courtyard.

He took a few steps, following the footprints left by the adults in the snow that had not yet been covered by fresh snow.

Slowly move to the front door.

Looking at the door panel that was nearly ten feet tall, he couldn't help but feel a little worried.

The latch was too high; he couldn't reach it at all.

Looking around, I saw an old ladder standing in the corner.

He gritted his teeth and simply started rolling around in the snow.

Rolling over like this will prevent you from leaving clear footprints on the snow.

But climbing back over the wall would be difficult.

He climbed up the wall, holding onto the ladder, and first pulled the ladder up with his hand.

He flipped over and climbed up the high wall, then slowly slid down the ladder to the ground outside.

The moment his feet touched the ground firmly, he yanked the ladder leaning against the wall down and, with a flick of his wrist, stored it directly into his system space.

He raised his hand and gently shook off the snowflakes clinging to his shoulders and clothes, then hurried along the snow-covered path toward the front door.

He Yuzhu ran with all his might in the thick, ink-like darkness of the night, leaving a rapid trail in the snow.

The biting wind felt like a sharp blade dipped in ice water, scraping against my cheeks and causing a stinging pain.

Rapid, panting breaths condensed into wisps of white mist in the cold air, only to be torn to shreds by the howling wind as soon as they rose.

He didn't run very far.