Courtyard House: A Veteran Returns Home and Becomes a Father

on the street.

Time is dead.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood.

It also smelled strongly of urine.

The ringleader fled in a panic, while the rest lay sprawled on the ground like clumps of rotten flesh.

They didn't die.

But this state of being was more despairing for them than death.

Some clutched their twisted wrists, making hoarse, gurgling sounds in their throats.

Some had their chests completely deflated, and each breath they took sprayed out blood foam.

No one can stand up.

The onlookers, whether neighbors or passersby, all looked as if they had been choked, their faces turned pale, and they didn't dare to utter a sound.

What did they see?

Less than ten seconds.

An old gatekeeper in an old uniform, empty-handed, took down eight burly men wielding knives.

That wasn't a fight.

It was a massacre.

At the entrance of the police station, Zhao Weiguo and several young police officers stood rooted to the spot, their batons still raised.

The young policeman who had been shouting the loudest just now could barely hold onto his baton. Looking at the carnage on the ground and then at that frail figure, a chill ran down his spine.

The baton in his hand is fucking ridiculous.

Were they rushing up to provide support?

They're going to their deaths.

Zhao Weiguo's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his throat felt like it was on fire.

He had been a policeman his whole life, handling at least eighty or a hundred serious cases, but what he saw before him shattered all his experience.

Bajiquan (Eight Extremities Fist).

He recognized those moves; they were real killing techniques learned on the battlefield, fed with corpses.

Every move was aimed at crippling the person; there was no wasted effort.

This doesn't look like a gatekeeper at all.

This is like mistaking a fierce tiger for a sick cat and stuffing it into your own chicken coop.

Su Mo, however, had only done a trivial matter.

He ignored the few pieces of material wriggling on the ground, turned around, and walked into the recycling room.

He pulled his terrified wife and daughter into his arms, gently patting his daughter's back with the hands that had just crushed human bones.

"It's alright, Dad's here."

The voice was calm and warm.

It was as if that killing god from before had never existed at all.

Xia Wanqing leaned against her husband's chest, listening to his familiar heartbeat, and the heavy weight on her chest finally lifted.

She looked up at her husband's calm profile, her eyes filled with love and, more than anything, heartache.

How many people must one have killed to remain frighteningly calm after stirring up such a storm?

"Dad, have all the bad guys been chased away?"

Niannian peeked her little head out from Su Mo's arms, her big eyes still filled with timidity.

"Yes, they've all been chased away."

Su Mo pinched her little nose and smiled.

"They'll never dare come back again."

After saying that, he pulled over a rattan chair, sat down, picked up the cup of tea that had already gone cold, and took a sip.

It was as if everything outside had nothing to do with him.

He left the mess to the police station.

Zhao Weiguo felt a chill run down his spine.

He watched the mailroom door close, then looked at the groaning thugs on the floor, his head buzzing.

"Chief, what do we do now?" A young police officer's voice trembled.

What should I do?

How the hell am I supposed to know what to do!

Zhao Weiguo cursed inwardly, but he had to keep a straight face.

He forced himself to calm down and began to give orders.

"Xiao Li, call 120! Tell them there's a thug brawl here, and several people are injured!"

"Xiao Zhang, put up a cordon and get everyone out of there! Don't let them stare!"

"Take statements from everyone else, one by one! Ask the shops nearby what exactly happened!"

At the command, the young men finally snapped out of their daze and immediately sprang into action.

Zhao Weiguo walked to the entrance of the antique shop.

The thin shop owner was being helped by his employee. He had a clear handprint on his face and blood at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes shone with an alarming light, filled with the excitement and gratitude of surviving a close call.

"Sir, are you alright?" Zhao Weiguo asked.

"No, it's nothing, thank you, officer."

The old man was panting, but his eyes kept glancing towards the mailroom.

Zhao Weiguo looked at him and lowered his voice.

"Sir, why are they looking for you? What is that picture?"

The old man trembled, his eyes filled with panic, and he waved his hands repeatedly.

"I don't know, officer. They're just trying to extort money from me. How would I know anything about the map?"

Zhao Weiguo could tell from the old man's evasive eyes that he was lying.

But he couldn't press him for answers.

The incident started with a picture.

The trigger was Su Mo's wife and daughter.

What's giving him the biggest headache right now isn't these thugs, nor that broken picture.

How do I write the report for tonight?

Write "Eight armed thugs committed a crime, but were subdued by my gatekeeper, Comrade Su Mo, all by himself"?

What a joke.

If he submits this report, his superiors will surely think he's insane.

I'm afraid the Discipline Inspection Commission will come to investigate tomorrow to see if Zhao Weiguo accepted bribes and fabricated stories.

Write "The thugs fight amongst themselves and kill each other"?

With so many eyes watching, are you trying to fool someone?

Zhao Weiguo felt that several more strands of his hair had turned white.

He walked to the door of the mailroom, rubbed his hands together, and then knocked.

"Comrade Su, Comrade Su Mo."

The door opened.

Su Mo looked at him calmly.

"Chief Zhao, is something the matter?"

"that......"

Zhao Weiguo rubbed his hands together, his smile looking more like a grimace.

"Regarding the situation outside, look at this report..."

Su Mo understood.

He said calmly, "I was just a concerned citizen passing by, acting in self-defense."

Zhao Weiguo was stunned.

A concerned citizen?

justifiable defense?

You call this self-defense? All eight people are lying down, one of them has a crooked neck, even a god couldn't save him.

But these words pointed him in the right direction.

Yes.

"A kind-hearted citizen".

A "Lei Feng" who wishes to remain anonymous.

This explains why the thugs fell down, and also removes Su Mo from the spotlight.

"Understood, understood!"

Zhao Weiguo nodded repeatedly, as if grasping at a lifeline.

"I understand! Thank you for your guidance, Comrade Su Mo! Don't worry, I promise I won't cause you any trouble!"

After saying that, he turned and left, his steps light and quick.

Su Mo watched his retreating figure, shook her head, and closed the door.

It's not over.

That "treasure map of a former dynasty prince" was a piece of meat that attracted sharks.

The Black Tiger Gang is just the smallest one.

Beneath the surface of the waters of Beijing, who knows how many more treacherous dragons are lurking?

He had wanted to live a peaceful life.

But now, someone is not letting him have peace.

That being the case.

A cold killing intent flashed in Su Mo's eyes.

Then chop off all those outstretched claws.