Courtyard House: I, the eldest son of the Jia family, have returned from the battlefield.

The leaders at the table exchanged glances, and the head of the publicity department smiled and pressed, "This term is novel; what exactly does it mean?"

"Reporting to Section Chief,"

Xu Damao bent down even lower, “‘Big One’ means that the leader is upright and supreme in our hearts; ‘Small Three’ means that when a small character like me toasts, the leader takes one sip and I have to drink three cups.”

Upon hearing this, Li Huaide, who was sitting next to the main seat, had a hint of amusement in his eyes.

He swirled the white porcelain cup in his hand and slowly said, "According to your logic, if I drink three cups, how much should you drink?"

Without thinking, Xu Damao blurted out, "Deputy Factory Director Li, you are the pillar of our steel rolling mill."

If Heaven drinks three cups, then three times three equals nine—I have to drink nine cups.

Li Huaide suddenly laughed and raised his chin at everyone: "Look, our factory is truly full of hidden talents."

Since Comrade Da Mao has such high aspirations, let's open everyone's eyes today and see if our projectionist is truly as he claims...able to withstand the test of alcohol."

Upon hearing this, Xu Damao felt a surge of heat in his chest and responded repeatedly.

After downing a dozen or so cups of strong liquor, he felt dizzy and disoriented. The chair legs seemed to suddenly give way, and he slid into his seat like a lump of mud, immediately starting to snore.

The table fell silent for a moment, then burst into laughter.

The private room was filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and great noise.

Li Huaide tapped the table with his fingertips, looked at the slumped Xu Damao, and smiled at Secretary Zhang and Factory Director Yang at the head of the table: "Secretary Zhang, Factory Director Yang, Comrade Damao may not have mastered the art of drinking yet, but his fearless spirit in making a fool of himself is quite rare."

At this moment, Jia Dongming suddenly remembered something and smiled, "Now that you mention it, I do remember."

The other day, Da Mao invited me to his house for dinner, but before all the dishes were served, the host collapsed.

With Xu Damao down, everyone's attention turned to Jia Dongming.

Yang Weimin held his wine glass, his words full of praise, from courage to strategy, from achievements to future prospects, but every word seemed to float in mid-air, never quite landing a single substantial sentence.

Jia Dongming listened with a smile, but the light in his heart gradually lit up—he finally understood why he had lost to the Deputy Factory Director Li in the competition that followed.

Secretary Zhang glanced at Yang Weimin, then suddenly put down his chopsticks and interrupted in a low but clear voice: "Old Yang, if it weren't for Comrade Dongming, the special workshop would have been a pile of coke long ago."

"If that happens, we'll both be sinners against the steel mill."

He paused, then turned his gaze to Jia Dongming: "You can't just talk about your achievements."

In my opinion, the factory should give Comrade Dongming some tangible rewards—such as three months' salary, plus some ration coupons.

This is what it means to have rewards and punishments, with clear distinctions.

Yang Weimin's smile froze.

Jia Dongming did save his political life, but he also disrupted the game he had planned.

Although he was all smiles at that moment, he felt like he had a thorn stuck in his heart.

Therefore, he only flattered Jia Dongming, painting one tempting picture after another, without mentioning any actual benefits.

When Secretary Zhang pointed it out in public, Yang Weimin's lips twitched twice, and he forced out a half-serious smile: "Secretary Zhang is right."

This time, thanks to Comrade Dongming's heroic efforts in turning the tide, the factory should express its gratitude.

Jia Dongming sensed the superficiality in his words and suddenly remembered the matter of those public housing units.

He raised his glass, bowed slightly to Secretary Zhang, and said in a sincere but barbed tone, "Thank you, Secretary Zhang, for speaking up for me."

Protecting the factory is my duty, and I feel ashamed to accept the reward.

If the factory really wants to reward me... I'm willing to pay for it myself, to buy the small courtyard the factory allocated to me, and the two rooms my younger brother currently lives in.

As dusk settled, Yang Weimin's mind was racing with calculations—he was plotting how to cut in half the reward he had promised Jia Dongming. The words were swirling on his tongue, but before he could find a suitable excuse, Jia Dongming spoke up himself.

The man refused any reward from the factory and instead offered to buy the courtyard he was currently living in out of his own pocket.

Upon hearing this, Yang Weimin paused for a moment.

He lifted his eyelids to examine Jia Dongming, trying to glean some clues from that calm face, but he couldn't grasp anything.

He muttered to himself, a perfectly appropriate look of difficulty appearing on his face: "Comrade Dongming, these words... put me in a difficult position."

The conversion of public housing into private property was ordered to be stopped by the authorities several years ago.

Even if I agree, I might not be able to get through it once I get to the top.

Before he could finish speaking, Li Huaide chuckled and calmly took over the conversation: "Director Yang, rules are rules, but people are always flexible."

Isn't there another way to reward outstanding employees in the factory? Everyone has seen the merits that Section Chief Jia made recently.

We'll give him the courtyard he's currently living in as a reward, and then collect some monetary compensation as a token. This will both uphold the system and fulfill our comrade's wishes—don't you see, isn't that a win-win situation?

Secretary Zhang, who had been mostly silent, nodded slightly. When his gaze swept over Yang Weimin, there was a faint, almost imperceptible sigh in his eyes.

He really couldn't understand how this factory director, whose mind was as shallow as a pool of clear water and whose manner of dealing with people was so rigid, had managed to get into this position.

While thinking to himself, he spoke tactfully: "Comrade Huai De's idea is appropriate."

Comrade Dongming's decision to forgo the reward already demonstrates his noble character; now that he is willing to pay for his own accommodation, the factory should support him.

Two voices, one in front and one behind, blocked Yang Weimin in the middle.

His throat bobbed as he thought of the upcoming investigation team, and then of his younger brother Jia Dongxu, who was bedridden due to a work injury. The reluctance in his chest was eventually suppressed.

He cleared his throat, his voice a little dry: "Since both the secretary and Huai De have said so... let's proceed according to the principle of majority rule."

However, while the prize is a prize, the factory's assets cannot be taken for granted.

The entire courtyard where Dongming now lives is valued at one thousand.

The two rooms occupied by his brother will cost an additional 500.

"One thousand and five?"

Li Huaide frowned slightly. "Director Yang, Section Chief Jia voluntarily gave up the reward. Isn't this price... a bit too high?"

Secretary Zhang also looked over, his tone gentle yet weighty: "Old Yang, what Huai De said makes sense."

I was about to offer a substantial reward, but Comrade Dongming declined it readily.

Now that he's willing to buy, we should be more accommodating in terms of price.

He just returned from military service, so his family background is probably not very wealthy.

For a moment, both of their eyes fell on Yang Weimin.

At this moment, Jia Dongming smiled. He bowed slightly to Secretary Zhang and Li Huaide, his attitude respectful but with his own opinions: "Secretary, Deputy Factory Director Li, thank you both for considering my case."

The price set by Factory Director Yang was very fair.

I immediately went to the logistics department to complete the formalities, and the payment was settled in one lump sum.

Seeing his reaction, Secretary Zhang didn't press the matter further. Instead, he asked with concern, "Can you manage to make money all at once? If you're short on cash, you can pay a portion first, and the rest can be deducted from your future salary. That's the same thing."

Before Jia Dongming could answer, Li Huaide shook his head with a smile: "Secretary, you're overthinking it."

You wouldn't believe it, but a couple of days ago, Section Chief Jia went into the mountains all by himself and brought back three or four thousand catties of wild game, which all went to the security team.

This amount of money is probably nothing to Section Chief Jia.

These words drew the attention of several people present, a flash of surprise and envy crossing their eyes.

I never expected that the new head of the security department would have such abilities.

And so the matter was settled.

When the meeting ended, it was completely dark outside the window.

Just after eight o'clock in the evening, a military green jeep rolled through the dim lights of the alley and came to a steady stop in front of the black lacquered gate of the courtyard house.

Jia Dongming opened the car door, and with the help of the driver, Lao Zhang, the two of them helped Xu Damao, who had slumped into a puddle, out of the car.

The night breeze was cool. Jia Dongming nodded to Old Zhang with his usual smile: "Thank you for your hard work, Master Zhang. Be careful on your way back."

Old Zhang hurriedly waved his hand and grinned, "Section Chief Jia, you're too kind. It's my pleasure."

After saying that, he climbed into the driver's seat, and the car quickly disappeared into the night at the entrance of the alley.

Just then, Yan Bugui, who was in the front yard, hurried out in his cloth shoes, holding a half-smoked cigarette in his hand.

Seeing this scene, he narrowed his eyes and leaned closer: "Oh, Section Chief Jia, so... you're drinking with the leaders? Da Mao's got quite the throng!"

Jia Dongming held Xu Damao's arm steadily and said in a normal tone, "There was a social event at the factory, and Damao was there too."

It was the first time I'd sat at the same table as my superiors, and I was so happy that I inevitably drank a couple more cups than usual.

Yan Bugui clicked his tongue.

He let out a sound, his face clearly showing envy.

He took half a step forward, rubbed his hands behind his back, and said, "How about... I lend a hand?"

Jia Dongming glanced at his hands, which were always behind his back, and just smiled: "It's alright, he looks big, but he's not heavy."

"Uncle, please continue with your work."

Yan Bugui readily accepted the offer and immediately turned to walk towards the gate: "Alright, then you guys rest now, I'll go lock the door."

The backyard was quiet, with only the warm yellow light shining from the Xu family's windows.

Jia Dongming helped the man to the door and knocked on the wooden board: "Comrade Lou Xiao'e, Da Mao is back. He drank a bit too much at the factory."

There was a rustling sound inside, and the door opened quickly.

Lou Xiao'e looked as if she had just gotten out of bed, her smooth silk pajamas clinging to her body, and she was still clutching a book that was half-read in her hand.

Seeing her husband slumped outside the door, she frowned almost imperceptibly, then turned to Jia Dongming, her voice gentle: "Thank you so much, Section Chief Jia."

The door was wide open, and light streamed in, illuminating half of her body.

The silk fabric draped smoothly, outlining a full figure, and a dazzling patch of white at the neckline unexpectedly caught Jia Dongming's eye.

He paused for a moment, his gaze seemingly caught by something.

Lou Xiao'e reached out to help Xu Damao, but saw that Jia Dongming was standing still.

She subconsciously looked up, followed the other person's gaze and looked down. A short, startled gasp escaped her throat. She quickly covered her chest with her hands, turned around and slipped into the inner room.

That soft call was like a needle, piercing the brief stillness.

Jia Dongming snapped out of his daze, his Adam's apple bobbed, and a thin layer of embarrassment appeared on his face.

He lowered his eyes, helped Xu Damao into the room, and settled him on the edge of the bed.

Lou Xiao'e had already put on an outer coat and buttoned it up tightly to the collar.

The breathtaking white expanse from before had vanished, leaving only a section of reddish neck above the collar.

Jia Dongming looked away and his tone returned to normal: "The person has been delivered. You should get some rest."

He turned and closed the door.

After the soft creak of the wooden planks closing, Lou Xiao'e remained motionless inside the room, her back pressed against the door panel.

My cheeks were burning hot, and my heart was pounding rapidly.

The intense gaze from outside the door didn't offend her at all; instead, it was like a pebble thrown into a still lake, creating ripples that surprised even herself.

As Jia Dongming stepped into the courtyard, the night breeze dissipated the smell of alcohol, but an inexplicable heat crept up his spine.

In the darkness, the luster of that white silk and the panicked figure covering their chest lingered in my mind, frame by frame.

He took a deep breath of the cold air and muttered to himself, "It's time to settle down and start a family."

When he arrived at his house, he saw that the light in the main room was still on.

Pushing open the door, I saw Qin Huairu sitting under the lamp, mending something, the needle and thread weaving between her fingers.

Hearing the noise, she looked up and saw that Jia Dongming's face was flushed from drinking. She gently held her breath and smiled, "Mom was worried that if you drank too much, no one would be there to take care of you, so she told me to wait."

Jia Dongming waved his hand: "At my age, I don't need to worry about such things."

It's late, go back to sleep.

Qin Huairu studied him for a moment, making sure his gait and eyes were still clear, then put away her needlework and stood up: "Then you should rest early too."

Qin Huairu, carrying a winnowing basket, disappeared outside the courtyard gate. Jia Dongming hastily wiped his face and collapsed onto the bed.

The events that unfolded in the small canteen's private room last night floated into my mind frame by frame in the silence.

These days, the security department may have the name of a steel rolling mill, but it wields real power.