Courtyard House: A Start with Black Gold Swallowing 100,000 Silver Dollars

After a long silence, she suddenly looked up and said, "Master, I don't want to stay cooped up in the house all day. I want to go out and do some work."

I'll be graduating at the end of the year.

Li Wenguo was slightly taken aback.

If it were anyone else, they would probably have immediately sternly reprimanded them: "You're married, yet you still run off to other places? What kind of behavior is this!"

But deep down he wasn't a man of this era; he had no prejudice against women going out to make a living, and found it all quite novel.

I'm just puzzled—she was behaving herself just two days ago, why did she suddenly want to go out and explore?

On second thought, if she were really busy, how would she have time to compete and vie for power in the courtyard?

He then casually asked, "What kind of work do you want to do?"

"Have you booked the location yet?"

This accommodating tone surprised He Shuting.

She lowered her voice and said cautiously, "I studied language and literature and sociology in college, and I'd like to try my luck at working for a newspaper."

"It's right on Gulou East Street."

It's not far from home, about a 20-minute walk.

It was another newspaper office. Li Wenguo liked the sound of it and didn't hesitate much.

"Does someone at the newspaper office look after you?" he asked.

But a knot formed in her heart: that place was a mixed bag, and she was so beautiful, with a slender waist and bright eyes, that she would attract attention anywhere.

"Yes." She nodded. "The club president was my university advisor, and he reserved a place for me a long time ago."

"A few familiar classmates were also there."

Li Wenguo nodded, "Okay, but there's a condition."

He Shuting's eyes lit up. "What's the prerequisite?"

"You can start working again once you're pregnant."

She froze, as if struck by lightning, her mind buzzing.

I can't understand this convoluted logic at all.

She naturally didn't know that her husband was afraid she would attract too much attention and be taken advantage of.

Two weeks later, she got her job at the newspaper—the pregnancy was stable, and her belly was slightly protruding.

……

"Teacher, I've arrived!"

In the manager's office of Anmin Daily, He Shuting, dressed in an elegant white floral print dress, bowed slightly to the middle-aged man sitting behind his desk, her tone respectful.

The man was dressed in a sharp suit and wore gold-rimmed glasses; he was none other than the club president, Wang Zhiguo.

"Great, Shuting, you've finally arrived!"

Wang Zhiguo smiled warmly, his eyes revealing genuine joy.

"The grand game of revolution desperately needs young people like you—learned and courageous—only with you can we truly hope to win this game!"

"Teacher, I have always believed that as long as we grit our teeth and keep moving forward, China will one day stand tall and reclaim its rightful dignity and sovereignty!"

He Shuting's voice was clear and resonant, each word spoken with conviction.

"Okay! Okay! Okay!!!"

Wang Zhiguo slapped the table three times, his eyes welling up with tears of excitement.

He immediately suppressed his smile and let out a long sigh:

"The situation is critical right now—the Japanese devils in the Northeast are sharpening their knives, Japanese and puppet agents in Beijing are casting wide nets, and the Kuomintang is putting all its efforts into encircling and suppressing our party, with checkpoints everywhere tightly guarded. Supplies can't get in, intelligence can't get out, and we're constrained everywhere!"

"Intelligence is manageable; if hidden cleverly, it can always be smuggled out. But supplies—that's the real tough nut to crack!"

That's right. This newspaper, ostensibly a printing press, was actually a liaison station for the underground Communist Party; Wang Zhiguo and He Shuting were both genuine Party members.

Wang Zhiguo paused, then changed the subject:

"Shuting, I heard your husband works at a foreign firm?"

He Shuting nodded, "Yes."

"I heard it's a high-ranking position, a manager?"

"right."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she immediately understood the implied meaning.

"Shu Ting, he's your husband. Do you think... there's any possibility of leading him down this path?"

She lowered her eyes and pursed her lips, recalling the past two weeks of spending time together, during which she had already gotten to know Li Wenguo pretty well:

Amorous!

Greed!

Still so petty!

Strangely enough, despite disliking his flaws, he was genuinely attentive to her, protecting her fiercely and cherishing her deeply.

He Shuting knew in her heart that she hadn't made a mistake in marrying this man.

In terms of organizational rules and hiring standards alone.

Her mind went blank, and she didn't know how to respond to Wang Zhiguo.

To a Party member, such a person is no different from a festering boil.

"I...I'll try my best!"

………………

On the other end.

"You old bastard!!!"

"You dare stab me in the back!"

"Yang Zhengde, you filthy scoundrel—just you wait!"

Li Wenguo clutched his aching chest, his anger burning inside him, and strode out of the police station.

This story begins three weeks ago.

No sooner had Charlie left than the police chief quickly placed an order for a batch of weapons with Li Wenguo, even asking him to buy them on credit.

Li Wenguo didn't think much of it, just considering it a way to build a relationship, and nodded in agreement.

Little did he know that the old fox had already come up with a wicked plan to swallow the whole batch of goods. The first two times he had urged payment, the other party either claimed to be short of funds or pretended to be sick and refused to meet him; this time, Li Wenguo deliberately chose a time when there were many people around to visit, thinking that the other party would not dare to openly default on the debt.

But they still underestimated that face, which was as thick as a city wall.

Finally, he completely abandoned all pretense of civility, slamming his fist on the table and sneering, "The goods? They've been in my warehouse for ages! You think you can take advantage of me?"

He kicked him in the ribs and snarled, "If you dare come begging again, I'll smash your skull open right here!"

In that instant, Li Wenguo almost pulled out a gun from his personal storage space and sent him to meet his maker.

Fortunately, reason prevailed—if he really went to shoot someone in the police station, he probably wouldn't even have time to touch the dock before he had to flee overseas.

"Hold!"

"This is no coincidence! It's clearly a trap!"

Charlie boarded the ship just moments before the bureau chief placed his order. What a coincidence!

It's obvious they conspired to set a trap, specifically to frame him.

"If I don't break your bones, I'll write my name 'Li' backwards!"

His eyes flashed with a cold light, and his voice was as low as ice shards scraping against an iron plate.

This batch of weapons is only worth 50,000 silver dollars; even if we lose money, it won't be a major financial blow.

but--

If he swallows this insult silently, others will only see him as weak and easily bullied. Won't all those scoundrels in official robes and hats take turns stepping on his shoulders?

Does Li Wenguo still have a place to stand?

Ruthless figures in officialdom are more troublesome and insidious than street thugs. This time, he's determined to go all out and take a gamble.

"Sir, that old dog is a real scoundrel! He swallowed your goods and still dared to hit you?"

He Shuting rubbed his bruised chest with medicated wine while her fingertips trembled with anger.

"Don't get too hot, be careful not to upset the baby."

Li Wenguo gently pressed her hand down, his expression calm, like a lake without a ripple.

He paused, then raised an eyebrow and smiled: "Believe it or not, in less than five days, that old coffin-head will have to personally host a banquet and kowtow to apologize."

"Sir, you're bragging again!" she scoffed. "He's the police chief with real power, overseeing a hundred or so dark-skinned constables. Do you think he'd bow down to you? What a joke!"

He didn't believe it, but his brows furrowed even more: "As for that fifty thousand silver dollars... I only had a few thousand in the safe at home, and I took half of it."

Where was it moved to? Naturally, to a vital location supporting the revolution.

Li Wenguo laughed loudly, his back ramrod straight: "A mere fifty thousand? I have enough in my pocket to buy half a street's worth of houses! He wants to swallow it—I'll make him cough it up with interest, plus the deed to his ancestral home!"

A man must not lose any of his composure in front of a woman.

"Here we go again!" She rolled her eyes.

But he knew in his heart that if he said it, he would definitely do it—he took kickbacks from foreign firms, stuffing small amounts into his home and locking large sums directly in his secret compartment, and he never failed.

"Sir, just how much wealth do you have?"

She opened her bright, watery eyes wide and looked up to ask.

"Oh!"

"I'll show you something new today."

He raised his left hand and made a seven.

"Seventy thousand? No wonder you didn't even blink." She nodded.

"Silly girl!"

"You women, long hair, short wits."

His gaze swept over her collar, and he added, "Generous and plump, big breasts but no brains."

Immediately after the number "seven", he clenched his fist tightly.

She wanted to retort, but when she heard the words "seven hundred thousand," her mind went blank and she was completely speechless.

She stared blankly at Li Wenguo, her lips slightly parted, remaining closed for a long time.

A surge of excitement welled up inside him, and a feeling of triumph shot straight to the top of his head.

"What a nouveau riche! "

She muttered to herself, but in her heart she was already calculating: if this money were all invested in the revolutionary cause, how many troops could it support, how many batches of ammunition could it transport, and how many lives could it save?

"Hmph!"

"Now you know what I'm capable of, right? This is just the tip of the iceberg!"

Li Wenguo sat with his legs crossed, smug and self-satisfied, completely unaware that a burning flame had already ignited in the eyes of the person beside him—it wasn't admiration, but scheming, a determination to have him.

"Yes, sir, you're amazing!"

This time, He Shuting was truly convinced.

Thirty five

Seven hundred thousand silver dollars—an amount that an ordinary family couldn't save even a fraction of in several lifetimes.

Li Wenguo immediately saw through the hint of resentment in He Shuting's eyes. He leaned close to her ear, his voice as low as a cat's paw scratching silk.

Her face flushed instantly, and she pinched his arm. "I'm not one of those spineless bastards who make a living with their bodies in a brothel. I don't do such low-class things! If you want someone to serve you, go find them yourself!"

Before she finished speaking, she had already turned over, her back ramrod straight, even the ends of her hair exuding annoyance.

"It's just playing the flute, isn't it? Xianglan already knows how to do that."

"Then go find her."

"She's already rested by now."

"I'm going to sleep too."

"Hmph! People are lining up to fawn over you all the way to the alley entrance, why would you worry about not having anyone to flatter you?"

Li Wenguo muttered something, grabbed his clothes and put them on, then rushed out the door as if his feet weren't touching the ground, heading straight for Maria.

Having just been tricked by Yang Zhengde, he felt as if a red-hot coal was stuck in his chest, and if he didn't let it out, it might explode.

As for that kick—it's long gone. His body is immune to all poisons and can withstand countless blows; he recovers faster than spring grass turning green again.

Even if they're beaten to the point of death and spend half the night lying in bed, they can still jump up and kick the door.

……

this day.

At the entrance of the police station.

A rickshaw puller was squatting at the base of the wall, wearing a faded white overcoat, his face a yellowish hue like old wax paper, his hood pulled low. Seeing a plump, short, pot-bellied middle-aged man stroll out, he immediately stepped forward, his back bent like a fully drawn bow.

"Sir, where are you going?"

The man didn't even lift his eyelids, climbed straight into the car, closed his eyes, leaned back in his seat, and slowly uttered a few words:

No. 26, Qingyun Hutong, Zhengyangmen.

"Alright!!!"

"Sir, please sit tight!"

The driver moved with lightning speed, pulling the cart away.

The person in the back seat closed their eyes to rest, so he quietly turned into a narrow alley. When no one was around, he suddenly braked, and in the instant the other person was still in shock, he raised his hand and put the person and the car into his spatial storage.