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

Jia Dongming casually slipped the coin into his pocket, picked up the teapot handle and poured half a cup of slightly yellow tea, picked up a melon seed with his fingertips and put it between his teeth, but his gaze was fixed on the blacksmith shop with its door open diagonally across the street.

Just as he was leisurely sipping his drink, the young security guard crouching on the stone steps at the alley entrance saw the scene inside the window and couldn't help but click his tongue in amazement: He really is a section chief, even his surveillance can find such a comfortable place. I should really learn from him in the future.

As the tea was being brewed for the second time, a farmer wearing a coarse cloth jacket swaggered into the blacksmith's shop carrying a cloth bag.

Before he could even stand up straight, a cheerful greeting rang out: "Master Ye! I hit a rock while chopping wood the other day, and this axe chipped. Could you take a look and tell me how much it would cost to repair?"

The shop echoed with the clanging of metal, followed by Master Ye's smiling voice: "Comrade, this needs to be reforged, one yuan."

Upon hearing this, the man rubbed his rough hands together, pulled out a few blackened coins from his pocket, and looked embarrassed: "Master Ye, can you give me a discount? It's really not easy for farmers to save up any money."

After a moment of silence in the blacksmith's shop, a slightly helpless reply came: "It's a government-run shop, the prices are fixed, I can't make the decisions."

The man bowed his head, counted out five silver coins, and carefully handed them over: "I'll pay you fifty cents first, and I'll make up the rest when Ming'er gets the knife, is that alright?"

A soft sigh drifted out from the shop: "Well, well, no one is well off these days."

"I'll repair the knife first. Mingri, please remember to settle the remaining payment."

"Thank you so much, Master Ye! I'll definitely bring Mingri!"

The man thanked him repeatedly and walked briskly out of the shop.

From the moment the man stepped into the teahouse, Jia Dongming listened intently by the window, as if he were a meditating monk.

Every word of the conversation was clearly audible, yet I couldn't discern anything unusual.

He withdrew his gaze and instead began to observe the rising steam in the tea room.

Under the locust tree next to the blacksmith's shop, the security guard, who was squatting and carrying an empty basket, winked at the alleyway across the street.

Another man wearing a straw hat stood up slowly and followed the farmer about twenty paces away, disappearing into the crowd.

Jia Dongming sat in the teahouse for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. Seeing that no one else was coming or going from the blacksmith's shop, he put down the half-full pot of tea and got up. "Comrade, you're leaving already? The tea's still warm."

The waiter hurried over to greet them.

Jia Dongming patted his clothes and laughed, "My wife broke the kitchen knife at home while chopping bones. I saw a blacksmith shop across the street and thought I'd go see if they had a thicker one."

Upon hearing this, the shop assistant's expression shifted slightly. He rubbed his hands together, seemingly wanting to say something but then hesitated before finally lowering his voice and saying, "If you want to buy a kitchen knife, you should go to the supply and marketing cooperative."

The furniture in the shop across the street... isn't exactly reasonably priced.

Jia Dongming slightly raised his eyelids and leaned forward a fraction of an eye: "Oh? Could it be that their ironware has some special features?"

Jia Dongming asked the shop assistant about the kitchen knife.

The shop assistant paused, a hint of confusion on his face, and shook his head, saying, "You're asking me what's the difference between the knives in this shop and those from the cooperative? I honestly can't answer that."

"This shop used to be run by Master Feng."

The shop assistant glanced at the deserted storefront. "His skills are good, and his business is booming."

Three months ago, the old man went back to Shanxi to retire.

"The new Master Ye doubled the price of ironware in just a few days."

Since then, fewer and fewer customers have come to our door.

"If it weren't for the current public-private partnership, this shop probably wouldn't have survived until now."

Jia Dongming understood the situation and smiled slightly: "The new society is still better."

In the past, a shop like this would have closed down long ago.

The shop assistant laughed upon hearing this, her words tinged with a hint of emotion: "You're absolutely right."

When we used to run a teahouse, those old policemen would come every few days demanding money, and if we didn't pay, they would disrupt our business.

Although I earn less now, I feel at ease and don't have to live in constant fear.

Jia Dongming nodded, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

As he left the teahouse, he habitually stared intently at the blacksmith's shop—his sharp eyes seemed to pierce through the brick walls and the ground.

The next moment, his breath hitched slightly.

In the underground chamber, Master Ye was bent over in front of a wooden table, holding a note in his hand, comparing it word by word with a thick old book.

A wood-chopping knife rested on the corner of the table, its wooden handle removed.

It turned out to be the case.

Jia Dongming's eyes darkened.

No wonder the branch office has been watching for so long but hasn't found any decent clues.

He walked calmly to his bicycle, rode to a quiet alley not far away, and stopped.

Using the shadow of the corner of the wall, he once again turned his gaze to the secret room.

Master Ye has finished translating the contents of the note.

He took another slip of paper, bent down and wrote down a string of numbers in neat but hurried handwriting.

After writing, he carefully rolled up the note and stuffed it into a hollow wooden handle. Then he picked up a shiny kitchen knife blade and carefully inserted it into the handle.

After assembling the cigarettes, he inspected them, took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and lit one.

He brought the half-burnt match close to the note he had just deciphered, and the flame suddenly flared up. The paper quickly curled up, charred, and turned into a few ashes that fell to the ground.

Master Ye closed the thick book, pushed it into a hidden compartment in the wall, then picked up the newly packaged kitchen knife and turned to leave the secret room.

Jia Dongming slowly exhaled.

The blacksmith shop—an intelligence hub.

The middle-aged man who came to get his knife repaired earlier was an enemy agent.

So, the next person to buy this kitchen knife will probably be someone else.

A clear plan gradually took shape in his mind.

He stopped keeping a close eye on what was happening in the shop and moved to a more secluded spot to wait quietly.

Around 4 p.m., Zhao Jun arrived in a hurry with several people.

Upon seeing Jia Dongming leaning against his bicycle smoking, he quickly stepped forward and said, "Director, we'll guard this place. You should go back to the factory and rest."

I will report to you immediately if there is any movement.

Jia Dongming handed him a cigarette, his tone calm: "You've been watching this shop all morning, has anything unusual happened?"

Zhao Jun thought for a moment and shook his head: "From nine o'clock in the morning until now, apart from that middle-aged man, no other guests have come or gone."

I didn't see anything special about it.

Jia Dongming flicked his cigarette ash, a faint smile appearing on his lips: "Qian the Cripple confessed that he sold all the scrap steel he stole from the factory here."

Adding to the information the branch office had gathered earlier, this blacksmith shop is very likely a hideout for enemy agents—of course, this is just speculation at the moment.

Whether there's a problem or not, we'll have to investigate to find out.

So I'm calling your Third Brigade over here. Keep a close eye on everyone coming in and out, and their identities.

Around 3 p.m., the sun was already setting in the west.

I've been keeping watch here for a long time. While your conduct is commendable, you're too rigid in your adherence to rules—you only know how to keep watch, as if all you see is that door and that wall.

While this approach may succeed, it's like using a sledgehammer to crack an apple—it's incredibly difficult.

Zhao Jun listened with his eyes downcast, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he remained silent, only muttering under his breath, "Chief, we're amateurs, how can we compare to proper reconnaissance soldiers..."

Jia Dongming smiled, a faint smile, like a wisp of steam rising from a teacup. "Who said you were competing? I meant, rivers have their channels, and mountains have their paths."

You need to first see clearly whether what's in front of you is a river or a mountain.

Seeing that Zhao Jun was still in a daze, he changed the subject: "Zhao Jun, tell me, what exactly are we here for?"

"Find out the details of this blacksmith shop."

Zhao Jun answered quickly.

"right.

To find out the truth, is staring at the door with your eyes enough?

Zhao Jun frowned in thought, then suddenly stopped halfway through his sentence—he remembered that Jia Dongming had turned into the teahouse diagonally opposite when he first arrived.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he gently patted his forehead: "Teahouses...taverns...those are the places with the most ears."

"What did you hear over there?"

He took half a step forward, his voice low and urgent.

Jia Dongming didn't answer directly, but instead looked at the mottled signboard of the shop in the distance and said slowly, "Watching people requires not only eyes, but also ears."

Teahouses and taverns are places with lots of ears.

He paused for a moment before continuing, "I went in and ordered a pot of tea, and sat by the window."

During a casual conversation, the shopkeeper mentioned that the shop was originally very famous in Winter City, with a skilled master craftsman and a thriving business.

But three months ago, the old master craftsman suddenly returned to his hometown to retire, and a new craftsman took over, doubling the price—and since then, the shop has been deserted.

"Isn't this cutting off our own source of income?"

Zhao Jun blurted it out.

"yes."

Jia Dongming turned his head, his gaze sharp as needles. "But that farmer just now, Mingming knew the price was high, yet he still carried the basket inside."

Are farmers now so well-off that they don't care about these things anymore?

Zhao Jun's back stiffened, and he suddenly realized: "That farmer... came to deliver winter melon?"

"If I'm not mistaken, this shop is probably not the main base, but just a hidden outpost."

Now that the intelligence has been sent in, someone will have to come and retrieve it sooner or later—either someone inside will send it out, or someone outside will come and pick it up disguised as a customer.

The wind swept across the alleyway, swirling up a few withered leaves.

Looking at Jia Dongming's calm profile, Zhao Jun's initial resentment had long since turned into admiration.

Just as he was about to ask something else, he heard the sound of bicycle wheels rolling over the stone slabs from the other end of the alley.

Two young men rode up and nimbly dismounted: "Chief, Captain."

Zhao Jun immediately went to greet him: "Guosheng, Zhang Ming—have you found out who that person who went in earlier came from?"

With permission granted, Zhang Ming leaned forward slightly, a barely perceptible excitement in his voice. "Chief, Captain, the target we've got our eyes on is definitely not simple."

He first looked at Jia Dongming, then turned to Zhao Jun, "Thanks to your previous arrangements, we used a rotation system to follow him from a distance. Otherwise, given his vigilance, we would have been shaken off long ago."

Zhao Jun, being impatient, pressed him before he could finish, "Stop beating around the bush, what exactly did you discover?"

"Yes."

Zhang Ming nodded, speaking a few steps faster, "That person wandered around the street for a long time, stopping and starting, occasionally taking the time to look behind him while looking at shop windows and lighting a cigarette."

We followed behind, our hearts pounding in our chests.

He wandered around for a good half hour before finally bursting through the gates of the Third Cotton Mill.

He paused, then added, "We later found out his background through Guosheng's connections in the factory's security department."

This man is named You Wan'an, and he is a purchasing agent at the factory.

It's said... his family has had a lot of misfortune. His wife had a difficult childbirth a few years ago, and both she and the baby died. Now she lives alone in the factory's staff quarters.

Jia Dongming listened in silence, his knuckles tapping lightly on the table.

A purchasing agent at a cotton mill... This identity is completely different from the one I overheard in the teahouse.

The seemingly simple man who claimed to be a country bumpkin and haggled with the blacksmith over a wood-chopping knife was actually just a carefully crafted facade.

Based solely on this huge difference in status, the suspicion surrounding You Wan'an deepened even further.

He is likely the hidden thread, responsible for connecting those unseen nodes.

"Director!"

Zhao Jun's low voice interrupted his thoughts, carrying Mingxian's wariness, "Someone went into the blacksmith shop; it was a middle-aged woman."

Jia Dongming's eyes sharpened, and he instantly suppressed all his wandering thoughts.

He slightly adjusted his posture, his gaze seemingly casually drifting towards the shops across the street, but in an instant, his hearing and observational skills were heightened to their peak, clearly capturing and amplifying every subtle sound and movement around him.

Inside the blacksmith's shop, a new customer was sizing up the shop assistant behind the counter.

"Comrade, do you have any durable kitchen knives here?"

The woman had a loud voice, with a straightforwardness common in the marketplace.

The shop assistant replied with a smile, "Yes, we do. The styles hanging on the wall are different, and the prices vary. Which one do you prefer?"