Siheyuan: At the beginning, I can integrate everything!

The north wind on New Year's Eve was as sharp as a knife.

"Whoosh—whoosh—"

The wind swirled snowflakes, which rustled against the paper windows of the courtyard house.

Red paper lanterns were hung in front of every household.

Despite the shortage of supplies, people still hold a sense of awe for the Lunar New Year these days.

Even if it's tough, we have to put together a decent New Year's Eve dinner.

The air was filled with the mixed aroma of braised pork with vermicelli and fried ribbonfish.

It was also interspersed with the occasional dull bang of a firecracker.

The Intermediate People's Court, the Jia family.

There was no stove in the house, and it was as cold as an icebox.

The wind seeping in through the cracks in the window made the dim kerosene lamp on the table flicker.

Jia Zhangshi sat cross-legged on the bare, hard kang (a heated brick bed).

He was wrapped in a tattered quilt of indistinguishable color, his lips were purple from the cold, and his teeth were chattering.

"What a disaster... What kind of New Year is this...?"

She wiped her dry, sunken eyes, her triangular gaze glaring fiercely at the few cold, hard, black steamed buns on the table.

There was also a small dish of pickled vegetables that had turned sour on the side.

This is the Jia family's New Year's Eve dinner.

Qin Huairu, wrapped in a thin, tattered coat, huddled on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

Holding Xiao Dang and Huaihua, who were whimpering from hunger, in his arms, his eyes were glazed over, as if he had lost his soul.

The stalk of the dog lay pressed against the window frame, its nose pressed tightly against the frosted glass.

A small round hole was melted in the glass by his breath.

His small eyes, peering through the hole, stared intently at the direction of the east wing in the front yard.

The east wing was brightly lit, as bright as day.

That was Zhang Huaimin's house.

Although the door was tightly closed, the rich and overpowering aroma of stewed chicken soup and braised carp wafted through the air.

It desperately squeezed through the crack in the door and drifted all the way to the central courtyard.

Banggeng swallowed a large mouthful of saliva tinged with blood.

He was electrocuted a while ago and rolled on the ground, knocking out his front teeth and making his lips swell up like two sausages.

The smell of meat is making my stomach ache, and I feel so hungry that my stomach is churning.

"Grandma...I want to eat meat..."

Banggeng turned his head, drool dripping down his swollen chin onto his dirty cotton-padded jacket.

He pointed to the front yard, his voice trembling, "In that little house where no one has survived... they're eating big chicken legs..."

Upon hearing this, Jia Zhangshi's anger flared up instantly.

She abruptly threw off the tattered blanket, her withered chest heaving violently.

"Eat, eat, eat! All you ever do is eat!"

She cursed fiercely, but then she thought about it again and realized that the kid was indeed living a very comfortable life.

The neighbors are all saying that Director Wang made a special trip yesterday, bringing not only meat coupons.

They even gave me a 20 yuan New Year's red envelope!

Twenty yuan!

That's enough for the Jia family to eat cornmeal for half a year!

Not to mention that gleaming gold martyr's medal; if you took it to the black market, you could easily get dozens of kilograms of fat for it.

Jia Zhangshi's eyes darted around, a hint of greed and mad calculation flashing in them.

She waved to the stick.

"My dear grandson, come here."

Banggeng sniffled and went to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

Jia Zhangshi lowered her voice, and the sound was as harsh as fingernails scraping an iron pot.

"Listen to Grandma, there must be twenty yuan that the neighborhood committee just gave out in that little bastard's house."

"And that gold medal!"

Her thin fingers gripped Banggeng's arm tightly, making him wince.

"You should sneak over there tonight while he's asleep."

"His main gate is strange; we won't use it."

Jia Zhangshi pointed towards the back window, "Go around to the alleyway behind and pry open his back window!"

Qin Huairu, who was listening nearby, was terrified and quickly reached out to tug at Jia Zhangshi's sleeve.

"Mom, you mustn't!"

Her voice trembled, and her face was deathly pale. "Huaimin's house is incredibly eerie. Banggeng almost ruined his wrist last time. How could you still let him go there?"

"Shut up! You useless jinx!"

Jia Zhangshi flung Qin Huairu's hand away and slapped her hard across the face.

"Snapped!"

Qin Huairu covered her face, tears welling up instantly, but dared not utter another sound.

"It doesn't matter if you starve to death, you widow who brings bad luck to your husband, my grandson is the only heir of the Jia family!"

Jia Zhangshi turned her head and continued to entice the stick.

"My dear grandson, don't be afraid. His window is made of wood and doesn't have iron bars."

"Once you get the money and the gold medal, we'll go buy a big piece of fatty meat and firecrackers first thing tomorrow morning!"

When Bang Geng heard the word "big fatty meat," his eyes lit up instantly.

The hunger in my stomach overcame the fear of the unknown force.

He nodded vigorously, and through his slurred speech, said indistinctly:

"Grandma, you wait... I'll definitely steal all of that little devil's money!"

As night deepened, the sound of firecrackers gradually subsided.

One by one, the lights in the courtyard went out as everyone huddled on the heated kang (a traditional heated brick bed), unable to stay up all night any longer.

It was just past midnight.

It was so quiet that you could hear the snow falling.

A thin, dark figure, like a clever mouse, slipped out from the crack in the Jia family's half-closed door.

Banggeng tightly gripped a handful of rusty iron pieces in his hand.

Those were his usual "tools" for picking locks.

He didn't dare go through the main courtyard, but instead followed the alleyway where the middle and front courtyards met, and made his way to the back alley in the dark.

The cold wind was like a blade, scraping against his thin, tattered cotton-padded coat.

He was so cold that his nose was running and his teeth were chattering.

But his mind was filled with images of braised pork, and his steps didn't slow down at all.

Front yard, east wing.

The room was warm and cozy, and the kettle on the stove made a soft hissing sound.

Zhang Huaimin lay on the kang (a heated brick bed) fully clothed, without even taking off his clothes.

His breathing was steady, as if he were fast asleep.

But those large, clear black and white eyes gleamed with a cold, mocking light in the darkness.

The system's superior perception had already captured all the movements outside clearly.

"They really won't shed a tear until they see the coffin."

Zhang Huaimin sneered inwardly.

He slowly sat up without making a sound.

Barefoot, I stepped onto the scorching hot kang mat and quietly moved to the back window.

The curtains had a slit about two fingers wide left open.

Zhang Huaimin squinted, staring intently through the crack at the dark alley outside the window.

They were just waiting for their prey to come to them.

outside the window.

The stalk, stepping on a broken brick, huffed and puffed as it climbed onto the windowsill.

His hands were red from the cold, and his joints were stiff.

Trembling, he inserted the rusty little piece of iron into the gap in the window frame.

"Click".

A very faint metallic clanging sound.

He skillfully pried open the old wooden window latches.

Banggeng felt a surge of joy.

"Hey, you little rascal, you were sleeping like a log, but I still managed to sneak in!"

He smugly muttered to himself, becoming increasingly daring in his actions.

He gently pushed open a window.

An enticing aroma of meat mingled with the warmth of the heating wafted from inside the house.

Banggeng took a greedy deep breath, and drool instantly dripped down his chin.

He peered into the house by the faint moonlight.

The quilt on the kang (a heated brick bed) was bulging up, and the person was sleeping soundly.

At the octagonal table by the window.

An exquisite wooden box sat there quietly, its lid half-open.

The moonlight shone on the box, and you could vaguely see a dazzling golden light reflecting off it!

And there's a small stack of brand-new RMB notes next to it!

"Money! Big fat pieces of meat!"

Banggeng's breathing instantly became heavy, and his heart pounded like a drum.

He was so excited he was trembling, and he couldn't wait to lift one leg and step over the windowsill.

Half of his body was already inside the house.

Zhang Huaimin stood in the dark corner, less than a meter away from the window.

He crossed his arms and looked at a corpse.

Watching Banggeng's dirty hand, like a disgusting worm, slowly reach for the wooden box on the table.

"You choose the path to heaven but refuse to take it, while you insist on coming to hell when there is no way out."

A cruel smile curled at the corner of Zhang Huaimin's lips as he silently chanted in his heart.

"System, activate the high-voltage electrostatic protection network, maximum power."

[Ding! High-voltage electrostatic protection network activated.]

Without any warning.

Just as the tip of the stick was less than five centimeters away from the wooden box.

"Buzz—!"

The entire wooden window frame, along with the eight-immortal table.

Suddenly, a chilling, eerie blue electric light flickered in the air!

A strong smell of ozone instantly filled the air.

The stick's hand hadn't even touched the box yet.

That layer of eerie blue electric arc resembled a venomous snake with eyes.

With a "crack," it shot up his arm from his fingertips!

"what!"

Banggeng let out a short, startled cry.

Followed by.

As soon as his foot touched the ground, he tried to pull back.

A muffled "bang" was heard.

A blinding blue lightning bolt struck him directly.

The stick stiffened and fell straight backward.

"Grandma... help..."