Courtyard House: Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) Traded for an Aircraft Carrier, the Whole Count

After dinner, the central courtyard of the siheyuan (traditional courtyard house) was bustling with activity.

As the newly appointed "acting old man," Liu Haizhong, in order to demonstrate his authority, specially had the eight-immortal table, a symbol of power, moved to the center of the courtyard. The dim light bulb overhead swayed, casting long shadows on everyone.

"Everyone come out! Meeting time! Meeting time!" Liu Haizhong, with his large belly, paced back and forth in the courtyard, his hands behind his back, putting on an air of authority even greater than the factory director. "Today we're having a celebratory meeting! The theme is to celebrate the emergence of a high-ranking official in our institute!"

Before long, people from all over the village brought their small stools and gathered around.

Yi Zhonghai sat on a small stool in the corner, his face grim. Ever since he was stripped of his position as an elder, his prestige in the courtyard had plummeted. He used to be the center of attention, but now he was a nobody. Looking at Liu Haizhong's smug face, he almost crushed the enamel mug in his hand.

Sha Zhu hadn't been released yet, and Qin Huairu's family huddled at the back of the crowd, their eyes darting around uncertainly.

"Ahem!" Liu Haizhong cleared his throat, just about to launch into a long speech, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure walking into the courtyard gate out of the corner of his eye.

In that instant, the previously noisy courtyard seemed to have been muted, becoming completely silent.

Jiang Chen was wearing a brand-new, crisp four-pocket cadre uniform and shiny leather shoes. The bulging holster at his waist radiated a chilling aura under the light. He walked in casually, yet he seemed to carry the aura of a thousand troops, making everyone feel suffocated.

Liu Haizhong's chubby face jiggled, and his deep-seated tendency to bully the weak and fear the strong made him react instantly.

He sprang up from his seat at the head of the table like a spring, jogging to greet him, his face crinkling with a smile so wide it could trap flies: "Oh! Section Chief Jiang! You're back! Quickly, quickly, please take a seat! Please take a seat!"

As he spoke, he even went so far as to wipe the armchair that had originally belonged to an old man with his sleeve, and gestured "please" with a fawning expression: "Section Chief Jiang, you are now the highest-ranking official in our department, and a rising star in the factory. This position is rightfully yours! It's an honor for us old guys to stand guard for you!"

This stunned everyone in the hospital.

You should know that for decades, the main seat at the octagonal table in this courtyard has been an unshakeable rule, reserved only for the eldest uncle, Yi Zhonghai. Even when Liu Haizhong was acting as the eldest uncle's representative, he wouldn't dare to so blatantly trample on the rules.

But now, Liu Haizhong not only stepped on it, but did so willingly, even with a hint of ingratiation.

Yi Zhonghai, who was in the corner, suddenly raised his head and stared intently at that spot, his eyes turning red. That was his seat! That was the symbol of authority he had painstakingly cultivated for decades!

Jiang Chen walked to the table, his gaze sweeping over the entire room indifferently.

There was no refusal, no polite formalities.

He sat down in the armchair with an air of nonchalance.

This sitting down wasn't just about landing on your bottom; it was like a mountain crashing down on the backbone of the old order of the courtyard house.

"Since Master Liu is being so polite, then I won't stand on ceremony." Jiang Chen's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears. He took out a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes from his pocket, and Xu Damao, quick as a flash, darted out like an eel, struck a match, and lit it for Jiang Chen.

Jiang Chen took a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled a pale blue smoke ring. Through the smoke, his eyes became incredibly sharp.

"Now that I'm in this position, we need to establish new rules for our department."

He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, making a "tap-tap" sound.

"All those old tricks of moral blackmail and forced donations must stop from today onwards. If anyone is in trouble, go to the organization or the neighborhood committee. Don't hold hospital-wide fundraising events all the time. Nobody's money comes from thin air."

As he spoke, his gaze lingered on Yi Zhonghai and Qin Huairu for two seconds, which startled Qin Huairu, who quickly lowered her head.

"Also, if anyone in the compound dares to run a 'one-man show,' bully orphans and widows, or act arrogantly because of their age..." Jiang Chen sneered, lightly patting the holster at his waist, "Don't blame the security department for being ruthless and inviting them in for tea!"

The entire room fell silent.

These words were practically an insult directed at Yi Zhonghai, completely tearing off the face of this former "moral saint" and stomping on it.

Yi Zhonghai trembled with rage, his chest heaving violently, but when he looked at the gun at Jiang Chen's waist and at the neighbors around him who had previously been obsequious to him but now avoided his gaze, he could only lower his head in dejection and dare not utter a single word.

"Good! Section Chief Jiang is right!"

Xu Damao was the first to jump out, clapping enthusiastically until his hands were red. "This is our new look! We firmly support Section Chief Jiang's leadership!"

The sparse applause gradually grew into enthusiastic applause. Whether genuine or feigned, at that moment, everyone understood one thing:

The world in the courtyard has changed. Yi Zhonghai's era has come to a complete end. From now on, there will only be one king in this courtyard, and that is Jiang Chen.

After the meeting ended, the crowd gradually dispersed.

Qin Huairu stood in the shadows, watching Jiang Chen being escorted back to the backyard like a star being fawned over. A complex light flashed in her eyes. It was a fear of power, a desire for wealth, and a hint of calculation as a woman.

She subconsciously touched the empty rice jar in the house, and thinking of her hungry child crying in the house, her eyes gradually became firm and dangerous.

"Since the gentle approach isn't working... then we'll have to resort to something more drastic."