Yu Xifeng appeared once again in the warehouse.

The warehouse had been completely abandoned, leaving only a pile of ashes.

Before Yu Xifeng had hidden in the space, the scattered grain was already gone.

Such a large granary, yet not a single grain of rice remained.

Before Yu Xifeng came out, she had imagined the worst-case scenario—if she showed her face, she would immediately face a hail of bullets, and she would have to flash back into the space at the last second.

Her nerves were tense as she immediately checked the surrounding environment.

There was nothing—no one, no newly restored surveillance cameras.

Yu Xifeng made a judgment: this place had been abandoned.

An empty building, without guards or any value worth visiting.

This matched Yu Xifeng’s expectations.

The main door was locked from the outside; she couldn’t judge what was happening outside.

Yu Xifeng found a fire exit in another direction, which was easier to deal with than the iron door.

At least it wouldn’t make much noise.

After some effort, Yu Xifeng was about to push the door open.

At that moment, she heard footsteps outside.

The footsteps had a distinct rhythm.

It reminded Yu Xifeng of someone.

Wang Anmin.

“A single shot killed the victim, the bullet pierced the forehead. Witnesses didn’t see the killer’s face, but from the footprints, the height is estimated between 165 and 172 cm. Considering the thickness of the warm clothing, the killer is probably a slim young woman.”

The young woman reporting was crisp and straightforward.

Yu Xifeng let out a silent breath inside her heart.

She had been careless.

“What about the outdoor surveillance?”

That was Wang Anmin’s voice.

“It’s been broken for a long time. At this temperature, the outdoor cameras are mostly decorative. Only two barely worked and were also destroyed—preliminarily suspected to be by steel crossbows.”

The footsteps grew closer.

Yu Xifeng didn’t dare listen further and retreated into the space.

Outside, Wang Anmin seemed to sense something and glanced in Yu Xifeng’s direction.

“This is suspicious. According to the guards, the protective iron spikes on the outside railings were still there at 4 p.m., but by 11 p.m., they were all gone.”

The underground shelter patrol team was short-handed, pulling people from the grassroots level.

Wang Anmin was about to be promoted, so he used this opportunity to transfer to the underground shelter, where he had some relevant experience. It was natural for him to take over this case.

Wang Anmin was not very pleased.

People were dying everywhere—what was some spoiled rich kid compared to that?

According to Kong Nuan’s description, if Zheng Chengfan hadn’t died that day, it would have been her.

Manpower was tight everywhere, with shortages, yet wasted on such meaningless matters.

Orders from above didn’t change according to his wishes.

Wang Anmin said, “I feel the guard is hiding something. Let me ask again.”

Inside the space.

Yu Xifeng looked down at her shoes.

Size 37, standard.

She rummaged around the room for half an hour and finally found a pair of size 39 shoes.

Silently, she put on three pairs of cotton socks and stuffed her feet inside.

She tried stepping on the floor.

Hmm, they could be worn.

Yu Xifeng returned to the warehouse; outside, it was completely silent.

No one had entered the warehouse.

Wang Anmin had come to investigate Zheng Chengfan’s cause of death.

But he hadn’t connected the missing grain from the warehouse.

There was only one possibility: Zheng Weiyang had not reported it upwards.

This was good news for Yu Xifeng—fewer people knowing meant less chance of the space being exposed.

As for those they wanted to catch—the killer who shot Zheng Chengfan—and any evidence pointing to herself,

Yu Xifeng didn’t rush to patch up the situation.

The more she did, the more mistakes she might make.

What she needed was to leave this factory quickly and get out of their sight.

Yu Xifeng opened the fire exit and, after stepping outside, closed the door behind her.

A strip of dawn rose on the horizon; visibility outside was very low, and Yu Xifeng had timed it well.

She had the entire day to return to the underground shelter.

Braving the cold wind, Yu Xifeng walked along the edge of the building.

Behind her, Wang Anmin had just extracted the information about the stolen grain from a security guard.

The guard was hesitant and couldn’t give an exact quantity.

Wang Anmin and his team went to check the warehouse of Production Department Two, still baffled.

The traces at the scene explained nothing.

By this time, Yu Xifeng was already gone.

When Yu Xifeng returned, the entrance registration of the shelter was surrounded by many people.

She saw Old Cai.

Her heart stirred as she was about to approach, but scanning around Old Cai, she didn’t see his little grandson.

Yu Xifeng’s heart sank.

Could it be that Old Cai’s grandson had gotten into trouble earlier in this life?

She was preparing to find an opportunity to talk when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Little girl, why are you staring at my grandpa? The old man’s already quite old; what’s there to look at?”

Yu Xifeng was startled and turned to see a tall man wrapped up like a bear.

He had very beautiful eyes—eyes that made you want to take off his hat and mask to get a better look.

Originally, Yu Xifeng felt a bit offended.

But then she realized he was a handsome man.

Ah, forget it.

Wait, Yu Xifeng asked, “He’s your grandpa?”

The man’s voice was muffled by his homemade mask: “Yeah, my grandpa.”

So this was Old Cai’s young grandson who died prematurely.

Yu Xifeng had often heard Old Cai talk about his little grandson coming back from the city to the countryside, stuffing chicken droppings into his mouth.

And Old Cai holding his grandson’s foot upside down while the kid crawled on the ground—a glorious story.

The old man was nostalgic, and because he hadn’t asked carefully, Yu Xifeng misjudged the grandson’s age.

For a moment, she found it hard to look directly at the tall man in front of her.

She quietly looked away.

After a while, she spoke, “Did your family get assigned a place? Which district?”

The man said, “District 8.”

Yu Xifeng said, “That district number you have is at the outermost edge. The heating is poor, and security is bad. If you trust me, give me your name and household registration, and I’ll find someone to get you a better spot.”

She glanced at Old Cai. Although he had white hair and worn clothes,

he still had spirit, and his eyes shone with a lively expression.

Much stronger than the dull and numb Old Cai from the last life.

“Little girl, do you recognize me?” Old Cai asked.

“You… remind me of an elder of mine,” Yu Xifeng said softly, a tone of nostalgia in her voice.

Old Cai comforted her, “At my age, if I’m still alive, I should be dead already. People must look forward.”

Yu Xifeng smiled and nodded, “Yes, people must look forward.”

Old Cai said, “You help us change to a good spot. What do you want in return?”

Yu Xifeng smiled and gave the reason she had thought of long ago: “I want you all to act as my distant relatives. If anyone asks, you just say I’ve been with you these three days.”

Old Cai agreed.

Old Cai’s full name was Cai Yuejin. His grandson’s surname was Zhang—Zhang Qiu.

Yu Xifeng was puzzled: “Why is your surname Zhang?”

“Oh, my mom is an only child. I took my mom’s surname.”

“What about Old Cai?”

Zhang Qiu said, “That’s my dad’s dad.”

“Are there others in your family?”

Zhang Qiu smiled faintly, “Almost all dead.”