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

The night rain poured down, and the fierce wind, carrying the icy raindrops, lashed the red brick walls of the small villa like countless whips. It was as if a thick curtain of water had been hung between heaven and earth, drowning out all sounds with the rushing rain.

This is perfect weather for murder, arson, or trespassing.

Jiang Chen's figure blended into the night like a drop of ink, silently bypassing the gatehouse. The old gatekeeper was already fast asleep, clutching his radio, completely unaware that death had passed by his window.

Using the thunder as cover, Jiang Chen pushed off the slippery wall with his toes, his entire body leaping into the air as if defying the laws of gravity. His body, modified by the gene enhancement fluid, displayed terrifying explosive power and coordination. His fingers gripped the edge of the second-floor balcony like iron hooks, his arm muscles bulging slightly. With a silent pull-up, he flipped onto the balcony like a ghost.

It landed silently.

The light from the study cast his shadow long and menacingly on the damp curtains.

Inside, Lou Bancheng slumped in his expensive leather swivel chair, clutching a handkerchief tightly in his hand, his forehead covered in cold sweat. He had just finished inventorying the last box of valuables, the culmination of half a lifetime's work. But for some reason, his eyelids kept twitching tonight, and the unease in his heart was like the low pressure before a storm, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Who?!"

Just then, a very faint sound of the window bolt being moved was heard.

Lou Bancheng, after all, was a tycoon who had roamed the underworld for half a century, and his reaction was extremely quick. Almost subconsciously, he opened the drawer on his right and reached for the well-maintained, gleaming Browning pistol.

"Director Lou, if I were you, I wouldn't touch that thing."

A cold and calm voice suddenly rang out in the room, devoid of any warmth, yet sending a chill down one's spine.

Lou Bancheng's hand froze in mid-air, then he suddenly looked up.

The previously closed French windows had been pushed open, and a tall figure in a black raincoat was standing by them. Rain dripped from the hem of the man's coat onto the dark red carpet, quickly spreading into a dark puddle.

The man slowly removed his hood, revealing a young face with sharp features and piercing eyes.

"Jiang...Jiang Chen?!"

Lou Bancheng's pupils contracted sharply, and he cried out the name in a trembling voice. As a director of the steel rolling mill, he certainly knew this "living devil" who had recently risen to prominence in the factory and whom even Deputy Director Li had to treat with deference.

But he never expected that in the dead of night, this nemesis from the security department would appear like a ghost in his study.

"It's so late, Director Lou, are you still up?"

Jiang Chen ignored Lou Bancheng's fear. He walked calmly to the chair opposite the desk and sat down with an air of nonchalance, as if he were back in his own home. He even picked up the teapot on the table with remarkable ease, poured himself a cup of the long-cold tea, and smelled it.

"Da Hong Pao tea, what a pity, the water's gone cold."

This arrogant attitude, which completely disregarded the owner, made Lou Bancheng even more hesitant to act rashly. He slowly withdrew his hand and asked, trying to appear calm, "Section Chief Jiang's late-night visit and trespassing on private property is probably against the rules, isn't it? If it's official business at the factory, we can discuss it in the office tomorrow."

"Business?" Jiang Chen chuckled, put down his teacup, and stared intently at Lou Bancheng with his unfathomable eyes. "Director Lou, let's not beat around the bush. All these suitcases in your room don't seem like you're planning to stay in Beijing for a long time."

Lou Bancheng's heart skipped a beat, and his face turned deathly pale, but he still forced a smile and said, "This... I'm just sorting through old things..."

"Alright, stop acting."

The last trace of a smile vanished from Jiang Chen's face, replaced by a suffocating sense of oppression. He pulled a neatly folded stack of papers from his pocket and casually tossed them onto the table in front of Lou Bancheng.

"Smack."

The papers were scattered, and several lines of striking boldface text came into Lou Bancheng's view.

"Look, this is the 'big gift' that your good son-in-law Xu Damao wrote overnight and is going to deliver to the Revolutionary Committee first thing tomorrow morning." Jiang Chen leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. "He even told you exactly how many gold bars you have hidden in this house, and even when you plan to run away."

Lou Bancheng picked up the document with trembling hands.

The more he looked, the colder his heart became.

This is... a death sentence!

That beast Xu Damao! The letter not only detailed the Lou family's assets that hadn't yet been transferred, but also fabricated charges against him outright, accusing him of "colluding with overseas spies" and "intending to abscond with state secrets." In these days, once such accusations are leveled, it's a capital offense punishable by confiscation of property and extermination of the entire family—not even a god could save you!

"How...how dare he...Xiao'e is his wife of many years!"

Lou Bancheng's voice was hoarse, like a broken bellows. He felt dizzy, the papers slipped from his hands, and he felt as if his spine had been removed, collapsing limply into the chair.

It’s over.

It's all over.

Once this material is submitted, the Red Guards and Young Pioneers will rush in early the next morning, drag him out like a dead dog for a public humiliation, or even... execute him outright.

"In this world, what do wives and children matter when it comes to climbing the social ladder?" Jiang Chen added coldly. "Xu Damao wants to use the flesh and blood of your Lou family to exchange for his official position."

The room fell into a deathly silence, with only the echoing sound of the torrential rain outside the window.

Lou Bancheng's face was ashen, his eyes vacant. He had spent half his life on the battlefield, accumulating immense wealth, only to be defeated by a mere projectionist in the end.

He is not reconciled!

"Section Chief Jiang..."

After a long silence, Lou Bancheng, as if grasping at a last straw, suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and madness. "Since you have this material, you must have a way, right? What do you want? Money? Gold bars? Antiques? As long as you can save my family, I'll give you as much as you want!"

Jiang Chen looked at the once arrogant capitalist now groveling and begging for mercy, but his heart remained unmoved.

The prey is in the net; now it's time to haul it in.

He leaned forward slightly, his shadow completely enveloping Lou Bancheng, his voice low and seductive, like the whisper of a devil:

"Lou Bancheng, you need to understand the current situation. The street committee, the revolutionary committee, and even the higher-ups are all watching you. This city of Beijing has already laid a tight net, and even without Xu Damao, you wouldn't be able to escape."

"Of all the people in Beijing, only I can save you now. I have connections to the highest levels of society, and I can send you all out without anyone noticing."

At this point, Jiang paused, then held up one finger and gently shook it:

"But my appearance fee is very expensive."

Lou Bancheng seemed to age ten years in an instant. He slumped into his chair, his voice hoarse, filled with a resigned despair: "As long as you can save Xiao'e and my lives, what do you want? Half of your family fortune? Or..."

"No."

Jiang Chen interrupted him.

The young face appeared exceptionally cold in the flash of lightning. He slowly extended a hand, fingers spread, then clenched it tightly, as if he held the entire Lou family in his palm:

"I want them all."