In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 98, Section 97: A Visit, A Warning

A gentle breeze rustled through the dense sycamore leaves, filtering down dappled sunlight.

The atmosphere of early summer quietly permeates the alleyways, carrying the warmth of the sun and the unique freshness of the plants.

A few minutes before nine o'clock in the morning, Yang Guangming, carrying a slightly worn military green canvas bag, appeared precisely on time outside the rather imposing cast iron gate.

He wore a short-sleeved shirt, his posture as upright as a poplar tree. His gaze calmly swept over the group of buildings before him, a symbol of status and position—neat, uniform red-brick cadre buildings, bearing the distinct marks of the era, standing silently in the morning light.

Inside the door lies another world, a social circle that is difficult for an ordinary worker to reach.

"Guangming! Over here!" Tang Jianhong's enthusiastic voice immediately pierced through the gap in the iron gate.

Sure enough, he was already waiting inside the gate, wearing a perfectly pressed gray polyester short-sleeved shirt, his hair neatly combed back and shiny, his face full of eager smiles, and he quickly came to greet us.

The gleaming emblem of the Oriental Machinery Factory on his chest shone brightly in the sunlight, silently proclaiming his identity and affiliation.

"Hello, Uncle Tang." Yang Guangming nodded in greeting with a gentle smile on his lips.

His voice was not loud, but clear and steady, carrying a composure beyond his years.

"Oh, thank you for making the trip! Come in, come in, have a seat!"

Tang Jianhong patted Yang Guangming's shoulder familiarly, his affection as if he were talking to his own nephew.

He led Yang Guangming inside, his tone carrying a sense of ownership pride, yet also a hint of boasting:

“Guangming, look at the residential compound of our Dongfang Factory. The layout and the greenery are top-notch even in Shanghai.”

He waved his arm, pointing out the layout, "Look, that's the workers' new village, it's bigger, and these are a few buildings over here..."

He specifically pointed to several obviously newer, more spaced-out three-story buildings with small, practical balconies, his sense of superiority practically overflowing in his words:
"It's a cadre building! So the conditions are naturally a little better."

He deliberately emphasized the last syllable of "a little bit".

Yang Guangming listened quietly, his gaze sweeping over the women queuing up to get water at the public water tap downstairs and talking in hushed tones, over the various clothes hanging on long bamboo poles swaying gently in the wind, and over the neatly stacked honeycomb briquettes in the corner, which looked like a black fortress.

These everyday, mundane details form a vivid picture of life in that era, which he quietly took in.

Tang Jianhong's home is on the second floor of one of the cadre buildings.

Stepping onto the dusty cement stairs, the narrow corridor is filled with a faint smell of coal smoke, the lingering smell of leftover food, and a unique odor of dampness.

Tang Jianhong skillfully opened a wooden door painted military green: "Guangming, please come in!"

As soon as the door opened, a kind-faced middle-aged woman wearing a blue apron greeted them warmly. She was Tang Jianhong's wife, Zhai Cuilan.

"Oh, the light has come! Please come in, please come in!"

Her smile was like cotton cloth warmed by the sun, sincere and fervent, carrying a heartfelt gratitude.

Her gaze lingered on Yang Guangming's face for an unusually long time, as if she wanted to deeply remember this young man who had saved her youngest son's life. Her eyes seemed slightly red, and she nervously wiped her hands on her apron, her voice slightly choked with emotion:

"Regarding Xiaobao's situation last time, it was really...it was all thanks to you! Auntie is so...so grateful..."

Her voice choked slightly, and the rest of her words were cut off by deep gratitude.

"Auntie, you're too kind. It's good that Xiaobao is alright; that's the greatest blessing," Yang Guangming replied gently, his tone carrying a comforting quality.

"Come inside, come inside, Old Tang, quickly pour some tea for Guangming!"

While greeting the guests, Zhai Cuilan explained in a considerate tone, "Xiao Bao and his sister went to the Children's Palace for an activity. We were worried that the children would make noise and disturb your serious conversation, so we asked them to come back later."

Yang Guangming walked into the living room, his gaze quickly and meticulously sweeping across the room.

The living room wasn't large, about ten square meters, but in an era of extreme housing shortages, being allocated such an apartment with a separate kitchen and bathroom was a significant symbol of Tang Jianhong's rank and status as a cadre.

Against the wall stood a dark red painted square table and four wooden chairs with backs of the same color, which served as both a dining table and a reception area.

On the other side against the wall were two wooden crates painted in dark brown and a chest of drawers of the same color. Neatly arranged on the chest of drawers were a metal thermos, a white porcelain teacup with a lid, and a clock with a glass cover that ticked.

A portrait of the leader hangs prominently on the wall, next to several certificates of merit with red lettering, silently testifying to the male homeowner's work achievements.

The area near the window is separated by a blue and white checkered curtain, presumably the bedroom.

The entire house was spotless, with bright windows and clean furniture, exuding the warmth of a small family and the diligence of the lady of the house.

"Uncle Tang, Auntie, this is just a small token of my appreciation."

Yang Guangming took out two slender tea canisters, carefully made from bamboo tubes, from his worn-out military green canvas bag.

The surface of the bamboo tube is polished to an exceptionally smooth finish, exhibiting a warm and jade-like natural color with a hint of red. There are no printed factory names or trademarks on it; instead, there are hand-carved lotus scroll patterns and auspicious cloud patterns.

The knife work was skillful and smooth, with graceful and flowing lines, and the depth of the cuts was just right. It was clear at a glance that it was made by an experienced old craftsman, and it exuded a restrained nobility in its simple elegance.

The unique packaging alone is enough to tell you that the tea inside is not something you can get in ordinary markets.

Tang Jianhong and Zhai Cuilan's eyes were instantly drawn to it, and their faces showed undisguised surprise.

Tang Jianhong subconsciously reached out and picked up one of the bamboo tubes. His fingertips immediately felt the delicate and warm patina, like a baby's skin, and the exquisite craftsmanship.

He flipped through the pages, his eyes filled with disbelief and deep curiosity.

“Guangming, this…this bamboo tube…” He clicked his tongue in amazement, his voice tinged with barely perceptible excitement, “The craftsmanship, the quality…it’s practically a work of art! And the tea inside…Guangming, you relative…”

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was already very clear.

This level of packaging implies an immeasurable value for the tea, making it something that ordinary families cannot afford, let alone give as a casual gift.

He began to re-examine the composed young man before him, his mind racing as he speculated about the possible hidden background or complex network of relationships that might exist behind him.

Yang Guangming remained calm, offering only a faint smile, as if he were handing over an ordinary object.

"Uncle Tang is overthinking it. This was originally a small gift from an older relative to the elders in the family, and the elders just keep it anyway."

I'm just a junior to tea, and I don't know anything about it, let alone how to appreciate it. But I thought Uncle Tang was a discerning and knowledgeable person, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to offer you and Aunt Tang a small token of my appreciation. Please don't refuse.

He spoke calmly and naturally, attributing the source to "a gift from an older relative to an elder" and "it's just sitting there anyway," thus explaining the rationale for the valuable origin and cleverly preventing Tang Jianhong from digging any further.

The phrase "We, a junior, don't understand tea" carries a perfectly casual air of "not knowing its value," which makes it all the more unfathomable and unfathomable.

Looking into Yang Guangming's calm and unwavering eyes, Tang Jianhong felt his doubts and curiosity ripple even more, like a stone thrown into a lake.

But he also knew that it would be inappropriate to press the matter further.

This seemingly casual yet profound gesture planted a seed of "caution" in his heart, making him more cautious and unconsciously polite to the young man before him.

"Oh dear, this is too much trouble, too much trouble! Cuilan, please put it away, this is really... Guangming, you're too kind!"

He spoke politely, gesturing for his wife to put away the tea leaves, but his actions carried a subtle solemnity, as if he were holding some kind of treasure rather than tea leaves.

Zhai Cuilan thanked her repeatedly and carefully put the two precious bamboo tubes into the safest shelf of the dresser, as if afraid of bumping or knocking them.

A steaming cup of tea, fragrant with jasmine blossoms, had just been served, and I hadn't even taken a few sips when a light knock came at the door.

"Du, du, du."

The rhythm was clear and even, with a rigid and businesslike quality, as if the person knocking on the door was not a finger, but a ruler.

"They're here!" Tang Jianhong immediately stood up, his relaxed expression vanishing instantly, replaced by a serious one.

Standing outside the door was Gu Yongkang.

He was still wearing that dark gray Zhongshan suit, which was slightly faded from washing, but every crease was ironed straight as a knife, with the collar tightly buttoned up, showing a strict sense of discipline.

He wore his signature black-rimmed glasses, and his eyes behind the lenses were as sharp as a hawk's.

He was carrying a slightly worn black faux leather briefcase, which was bulging and looked quite heavy.

His face was expressionless, and the sharply defined lines of his face gave off a cold and unapproachable aura. He simply nodded slightly to Tang Jianhong, who opened the door, and then his gaze went straight past him and landed precisely on Yang Guangming inside the room, with a scrutinizing look.

"Cousin Yongkang, please come in!" Tang Jianhong warmly stepped aside, his tone clearly respectful.

Gu Yongkang walked into the house and merely nodded slightly to Yang Guangming, who had stood up, and Zhai Cuilan, who was peeking out from the kitchen, as a greeting.

His gaze swept quickly around the room like a radar scan, carrying a professional, almost harsh, scrutinizing quality, before finally settling steadily on the dark red square table in the center of the living room.

"It's good that Comrade Guangming has arrived." His voice was steady and deep, without the slightest emotional fluctuation, like a cold stone thrown into water.

"Sit down, cousin, have a cup of tea and rest." Tang Jianhong quickly invited, and Zhai Cuilan hurriedly went to get a clean cup.

"No need." Gu Yongkang waved his hand decisively, his movements swift and efficient. He walked straight to the table, placed his handbag on it with a "thud," and deftly unfastened the clasp.

Inside, a small balance wrapped in dark blue velvet, a magnifying glass with a brass handle, a pair of slender tweezers, a notebook with a kraft paper cover, and a Hero brand fountain pen were clearly visible.

The tools were arranged meticulously, like surgical instruments.

"Did you bring the things?" He looked at Yang Guangming, without any unnecessary pleasantries, getting straight to the point, every word as if it had been precisely measured.

“I brought it.” Yang Guangming took out a small bag carefully wrapped in clean kraft paper with its four corners folded neatly from a specially made, thickened pocket inside the canvas bag, and gently placed it on the table with equally steady movements.

Gu Yongkang didn't say anything more. He took out a pair of faded cotton gloves from his pocket and put them on skillfully.

He unwrapped the brown paper package with extreme care, as if he were disassembling a rare treasure.

Inside are dozens of thin slices of rhinoceros horn, dark brown in color, with a smooth, jade-like texture and unique, fine, hair-like patterns on the edges.

He picked up the magnifying glass with the brass handle, brought it close to the light shining through the window, and examined each piece with extreme care.

He adjusted the angle, and the rhinoceros horn slice slowly rotated in his hand, the lens of the magnifying glass almost touching the surface of the rhinoceros horn.

He observed the direction, density, color variations, and subtle features of the edges of the texture, occasionally using tweezers to gently adjust the angle, as focused as if he were performing a surgical operation that allowed no room for error.

The air in the entire living room seemed to freeze because of his intense concentration, with only the ticking of the clock and the slight rustling of his clothes as he occasionally adjusted his posture.

Tang Jianhong and Zhai Cuilan stood to the side, holding their breath and not daring to make a sound. Their eyes followed Gu Yongkang's steady and focused hands as if those tweezers were holding their hearts.

After observing the rhinoceros horn, Gu Yongkang carefully placed the tested pieces onto the balance.

This balance is an old-fashioned, precision instrument with a fine sliding weight, a brass base, and a glass cover.

After testing each and every piece of rhinoceros horn, they were all placed on the pan of the balance.

He adjusted the position of the swimmer with extreme patience, his movements as gentle as if handling a feather, ensuring that the position was perfect.

After a slight wobbling, the pointer finally came to a steady stop on one of the marks.

He picked up his pen, removed the cap, and meticulously wrote a few lines in his notebook. The pen nib scratched across the paper with a soft, rustling sound.

The entire testing process lasted about half an hour.

Gu Yongkang finally put down the tweezers, took off his gloves, folded them up, and put them back in his pocket.

He looked at Yang Guangming and Tang Jianhong, his tone still flat and devoid of any emotion, as if he were reading a lab report:
"Sumatra rhinoceros horn top 'Tiangou slice', in good condition, with a warm and smooth texture, clear and fine grain, properly preserved, free from insects, mold and mildew, and its medicinal efficacy is intact. Weight: 5.3 grams."

He pointed to the clear number in the notebook, which was the final and unquestionable conclusion of the investigation.

"That's great! Thank you, cousin! You've worked so hard!" Tang Jianhong's face immediately broke into a relieved smile, as if his heart had finally settled back into his stomach, and he thanked him repeatedly.

Gu Yongkang simply nodded slightly and began to methodically and precisely tidy up his tools, putting them back in their original places in his handbag and zipping them up.

"I have some things to take care of at home, so I'll be going now." He picked up his bag and said succinctly, without any intention of lingering.

"Oh? You're leaving already? Sit a little longer, have some tea! The water's already boiled!" Tang Jianhong quickly stepped forward to persuade him to stay, his tone earnest.

“Yes, cousin, you just arrived and left without even having a sip of water…” Zhai Cuilan chimed in, her face full of apology.

"No, I'm busy." Gu Yongkang's tone was firm and left no room for argument. He picked up his bag and strode out, his straight back conveying a stiff refusal.

A hint of habitual helplessness and embarrassment flashed across Tang Jianhong's face. He could only see him to the door and say, "Well... cousin, take care on your journey."

Gu Yongkang reached the door, but unexpectedly paused. He turned around, his gaze as sharp as a searchlight fixed on Yang Guangming's face: "Comrade Guangming, could you please see me off?" This was not a request, but a command.

Yang Guangming understood immediately and replied, "Okay, Director Gu." He nodded to Tang Jianhong and his wife and said calmly, "Uncle Tang, Aunt Tang, I'll see Director Gu off."

Although Tang Jianhong was somewhat surprised, he could only reply, "Okay, okay. Guangming, take it easy."

Yang Guangming followed Gu Yongkang down the slightly steep cement stairs and out of the building entrance.

The early summer morning sun was already quite scorching.

Gu Yongkang did not immediately walk towards the imposing cast-iron gate of the family compound. Instead, he turned around and led Yang Guangming to a quiet, deserted open space on the side of the building.

Here, only a few low holly trees serve as a silent backdrop, separating the area from the bustling main road of the residential compound.

Stopping in his tracks, Gu Yongkang turned around, his gaze behind his glasses suddenly becoming sharp as a knife, piercing straight into Yang Guangming, as if trying to penetrate his skin and see through every corner of his heart.

His voice was low and stern, with an unprecedented intensity; each word struck like an icicle hitting the ground.
“Comrade Guangming, I have seen and measured what you have today. Sumatran rhinoceros horn is something the state doesn’t care about or can’t control. You’re trading it privately, so you bear the risks yourself. This is your own business. Whether it’s good or bad, you’ll have to bear the consequences yourself.”

His tone abruptly shifted, becoming more serious, even carrying an undeniable warning, as if he were reciting a legal provision: "However!"

He deliberately emphasized this word, "Besides rhinoceros horn slices, if your relatives or your own family have other precious medicinal materials such as ginseng, deer antler, bezoar, or musk—especially those clearly listed in black and white in the national unified purchase and sale catalog!"

He paused, his gaze fixed intently on Yang Guangming. "Listen carefully—absolutely, absolutely do not even consider selling it privately! Not a single ginseng root, not a single deer antler!"

His voice wasn't loud, but every word struck Yang Guangming's heart like a heavy hammer.

"That's a red line! A high-voltage line! Touching it is tantamount to profiteering! It's a completely different matter!"

There was no hint of a joke in Gu Yongkang's eyes. "If you get caught, at best you'll have your money confiscated and be fined, spend a few years in re-education camps, and have a stain on your record that you'll never be able to hold your head up high again; at worst, you'll go to jail! I'm not kidding!"

His gaze seemed to carry a tangible pressure, gripping the sunlight tightly.
"The state has a unified system for purchasing and distributing goods, and the prices are fixed. This is to prevent anyone from taking advantage of loopholes and embezzling state reserves! This loophole is tightly controlled!"

Don't try to think that a private deal will go unnoticed! If there's even the slightest hint of trouble, it won't stand up to scrutiny! One investigation and you're caught red-handed!

He spoke slowly, but each word carried a heavy weight, striking the quiet little open space.

He took a slight breath, his tone softening slightly, but his seriousness remained undiminished:

"I'm telling you all this today because of Hongtao."

That kid is honest and straightforward; he doesn't have many hidden agendas. He treats you like an old classmate and a friend.

I don't want to see his friends fall into this deadly trap because of greed or foolishness!

He glanced around, his voice lowered and carrying a chilling wisdom, "There are no secrets in this world! Don't take chances! One wrong step leads to another!"

Gu Yongkang's gaze once again locked onto Yang Guangming, carrying a final warning and scrutiny:
"If you are truly in financial difficulty, or if your relatives need to liquidate their assets, take my advice: when selling medicinal herbs other than rhinoceros horn slices, do it honestly and through legitimate channels! Go to state-run medicinal herb purchasing stations, or even to Jishetang!"
The pricing was set according to national standards, the procedures were clear, and the invoices were complete.

Although the price is much lower, it's better to have peace of mind and a good night's sleep! Understand?

Beneath his stern gaze, there seemed to be a subtle, almost imperceptible concern that belonged to an elder.

Sunlight streamed down as he met Gu Yongkang's stern gaze, which held a hint of worry in it, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

He fully understood that this traditional Chinese medicine practitioner, who was so rigid and meticulous that he was almost inhuman, was not giving this heartfelt advice out of thin air, but rather out of genuine concern and a deep understanding of potential risks from an industry insider.

He dropped his usual gentle smile, his expression becoming extremely solemn, as if making a solemn promise.

He nodded vigorously, his gaze meeting Gu Yongkang's with a frank and firm look:
"Director Gu, thank you! Thank you so much!"

I have taken every word of your advice to heart!

Don't worry, my relative has only this little bit of rhinoceros horn passed down from his ancestors. I know the rules, and I would never touch anything else!
I would absolutely never dare to cross that red line! I promise you!

His voice was not loud, but it was resolute and carried an unquestionable determination.

This serious attitude and frank gaze eased Gu Yongkang's tense expression slightly.

He looked deeply at Yang Guangming, as if trying to confirm the weight of this guarantee once again from the depths of his pupils.

The silence lasted for a few seconds, like a silent confrontation.

"Remember what you said today."

Gu Yongkang finally nodded, said nothing more, turned around, picked up the heavy black handbag, and walked steadily and powerfully toward the gate of the family compound without looking back.

That upright figure, bearing the spirit of an intellectual from the old era, quickly disappeared around the corner of the brick wall covered with vines, leaving only the scorching sunlight on the open ground and the silent holly tree.

Yang Guangming stood still, the early summer breeze carrying warmth across his cheeks, and he could even faintly hear the distant sounds of children playing, but a distinct chill swept through his heart.

Gu Yongkang's warning, like a heavy and loud alarm bell, echoed repeatedly in his ears, clearly defining the boundary between safety and danger in front of him, and marking the minefield that could swallow people at any time.

He was more aware than ever that while the "treasure" in his portable refrigerator was tempting, apart from the rhinoceros horn, which was in a gray area with ambiguous policies, everything else was absolutely off-limits.

Every step we take in the future must be taken with utmost care and caution, as if walking on thin ice.

(End of this chapter)