Courtyard House: Home Alone

Lin Yifan, who was fluent in Japanese, heard clearly what the Japanese shopkeeper was saying to his son. The shopkeeper said, "You two listen carefully!"

The Chinese are an inferior race, cowardly and stupid. Our Imperial Japanese Army is here to rule them! From now on, when you see a Chinese person on the street, stand up straight. They must treat us with utmost respect!

Anyone who dares to disrespect us, tell the Imperial Army and let them know what's what!

He spoke with spittle flying, his face full of arrogance and disdain, as if the land beneath his feet and the people here were inferior to him.

The boy, who looked about ten years old, nodded vigorously, his eyes filled with a ferocity beyond his years: "Hai! Father, I understand! Yesterday I saw that Chinese kid from next door making faces at me. Once martial law is lifted, I'll have the Imperial Army uncles arrest him!"

"Baka!" The Japanese shopkeeper suddenly slapped him on the back of the head. "Idiot! What time is it? The whole city is under martial law. The Imperial Army is arresting that audacious murderer. Don't cause any trouble!"

"Once this storm passes, there will be plenty of time to teach those arrogant Chinese a lesson! What we need to do now is protect our shop; it's our foundation in China, understand?"

"Hai!" the two boys replied in unison, their little faces full of fear and obedience.

Lin Yifan listened to all of this in the space, his fists clenching unconsciously, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

An uncontrollable rage rose from the bottom of my heart. This was not only an insult to him personally, but also a trampling on the entire Chinese nation!

Even a Japanese child who is not yet an adult has been instilled with such distorted and hateful ideas, which shows that the malignant tumor of Japanese militarism has penetrated deep into the marrow.

He recalled the history he had learned in modern society, the land ravaged by the iron hooves of the Japanese invaders, and the compatriots wailing under the butcher's knife—scenes that seemed to be right before his eyes.

The Japanese shopkeeper's words were like a poisoned dagger, piercing his heart.

He had originally intended to find an opportunity to leave quietly, but at this moment, he changed his mind. Although this family did not directly kill Chinese people with weapons, their arrogance and prejudice, and their sense of entitlement to aggression, were equally appalling.

They are another form of "accomplice" of Japanese militarism in Beiping, subtly eroding this land.

Lin Yifan's eyes were icy cold, like ice that had stood for millennia. He slowly stood up, exuding a chilling killing intent that was completely out of character for his age.

Since they are so eager for "rule" and so contemptuous of "Chinese people," I don't mind letting them taste what real "power" is like in advance.

He silently adjusted his breathing, forcibly suppressing the turbulent emotions within him, his mind racing as he began to consider how to deal with the family in front of him.

His gaze swept over the layout of the backyard of the grocery store, and the room where the family lived. The windows were made of wood, and the door was also an ordinary wooden door.

The Japanese shopkeeper seemed to still be scolding the two children in a low voice, while the Japanese woman holding the little girl looked somewhat anxious and uneasy, glancing out the window from time to time.

A cold smile curved Lin Yifan's lips as a plan quietly took shape in his mind.

He did not act immediately, but waited patiently, like a cheetah lurking in the shadows, waiting for the best opportunity to strike.

He wanted to make this family pay the price for what they called an "inferior race".

Time passed second by second, and the occasional sound of the Japanese patrol's orderly footsteps and shouts came from the street outside, like a death knell, pounding on the nerves of the Japanese family inside the house.

The female Japanese soldier tightened her grip on the child's arms. The little girl seemed to sense her mother's tension, shifted uncomfortably, and let out a few soft babbling sounds.

"Quiet!" the Japanese shopkeeper hissed, his eyes scanning the window warily, as if worried that the "audacious murderer" might suddenly jump out from some corner.

It's now!

A cold glint flashed in Lin Yifan's eyes; the time had come. The next second, Lin Yifan's figure appeared behind the Japanese shopkeeper like a ghost.

Lin Yifan gave him no chance to shout or resist. His eyes were cold, and his right hand formed a knife. With a sharp whistling sound, he slashed fiercely at the Japanese shopkeeper's carotid artery.

Lin Yifan, who is already 132cm tall, can reach the Japanese shopkeeper, who is over 1.5 meters tall, just by waving his hand.

With a soft thud, the Japanese shopkeeper closed his eyes and collapsed to the ground instantly. The attack had broken his cervical spine, and he didn't even have time to kick before he was sent back to his Japanese homeland.

The female Japanese soldier sitting next to her covered her mouth in fright. She hugged the child tightly in her arms, huddled in the corner of the kang (a heated brick bed), trembling and her face as pale as paper.

The two boys were terrified. The boy, who was about ten years old, had been saying that he wanted the Imperial Army uncles to arrest people, but now his legs went weak and he knelt down with a "plop," losing control of his bladder and bowels, and a stench filled the air.

The six or seven-year-old boy collapsed to the ground, his eyes rolled back, and he almost fainted from fright.

After Lin Yifan dealt with the Japanese shopkeeper, his gaze, as cold as the Grim Reaper, fell on the two boys.

He recalled the Japanese shopkeeper's earlier remarks that "Chinese people are an inferior race," the ferocity in the ten-year-old boy's eyes, and the words, "Let the Imperial Army uncle arrest him."

To cut the weeds, you must nip them in the bud! Children who have been brainwashed by militaristic ideology since childhood will surely become a scourge if left unchecked! Lin Yifan felt no pity, only a cold and resolute determination.

He strode up to the ten-year-old boy, who was so frightened that he kowtowed repeatedly, crying incoherently, "Spare me... Spare me... Sir, spare me..." He even forgot that Lin Yifan was wearing a school uniform at the moment, and only knew how to kneel down and beg for mercy.

Lin Yifan remained expressionless, grabbing the boy's hair with his left hand, forcing him to tilt his head back. His right hand swung down again, swift and decisive, without a trace of hesitation. Another muffled thud, and the boy's cries abruptly ceased, his small head drooping limply.

After dealing with the slightly older boy, Lin Yifan's gaze turned to the little boy who was slumped on the ground, almost paralyzed with fear. The child's eyes were wide with terror, his lips trembled, and he couldn't even cry.

Without the slightest hesitation, Lin Yifan stepped forward and delivered a chop to the neck, ending the young boy's life.

Although he knew the child might not be inherently evil, in this age of wolves and jackals, mercy towards the enemy was cruelty towards oneself and one's fellow countrymen. He could not, and dared not, take that risk.