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

Li Guofu was promoted and transferred to a neighboring city to serve as mayor shortly after taking office; Li Jingye was promoted to deputy director—however, there were only four deputy directors in the bureau, and she was only one of them, in charge of urban construction archives and coordination of urban renewal, with little power and many tasks.

The newly appointed Director Han has a clean resume, but he is ruthless in handling matters. In his first month in office, he transferred his son, who worked as a fitter in a machine factory, into the bureau and assigned him to work as an office clerk.

Coincidentally, this young master Han took a liking to Cao Ying at first sight. Every few days, he would run to her department under the pretext of delivering documents or checking information, his eyes direct and his words full of veiled meaning.

As usual, Cao Ying used Li Guoxuan as a shield—saying that they were already engaged and that he lived in the next department. Who knew that this time she had offended not a face-conscious cadre's son like Li Deying, nor a reckless young factory worker like Lin Guosheng, but the only son of the Han family who held real power and had deep connections.

On two previous occasions, Li Guoxuan was implicated: once when Li Deying sent Duan Zhihui to his door to cause trouble, and once when Lin Guosheng framed him for "physically assaulting" him, almost resulting in a police station incident. What about this time?

Cao Ying grew increasingly depressed as she thought about it, her nails digging into her palms. She finally understood: if a shield is used for too long, the arrow will eventually turn against the person wielding it.

That evening after get off work, she stood in front of the state-run restaurant for ten minutes. When she saw Li Guoxuan pushing his bicycle towards her, she went up to him, her voice not loud, but every word clear:

"Guoxuan, I've always used you as a scapegoat, making you get scolded, bullied, and wronged... I've thought it through these past few days—how about we get our marriage certificate? From now on, if anyone tries anything with me, I'll just say: 'My man is right here.'"

On the same night, Qian Shaoyong took Xiao Guan and Xiao Liang to the same restaurant.

Little Buddha, who had been keeping an eye on them for days, had already laid an ambush with his men. The two groups pretended not to know each other and sat in the north and south corners respectively; they even deliberately ordered different dishes - one table ordered fried liver noodles, and the other table ordered sweet and sour pork rice.

Li Guolei was also there.

He didn't join Xiao Fo's group, but sat at the third table by the window with another colleague. That person was his brother-in-law's subordinate, and had only recently been transferred to the Public Security Bureau. Li Guolei had been assigned to the bureau two years ago by his sister Li Jingjiao, and was now a squad leader in the Public Security Squadron; his wife, Cen Weiwei, stayed home to take care of their child, having taken a two-year leave of absence without pay, and had raised their child to be healthy and chubby.

He's not here tonight for dinner; he's waiting for evidence, waiting for the right opportunity, waiting to make his move.

Halfway through the meal, the young people at Xiao Fo's table suddenly got up and walked towards the restroom. As they passed Qian Shaoyong's table, they turned and stopped beside it.

"Comrade, could you lend me a toothpick?"

There was a toothpick holder on the table, but instead of reaching for it, he leaned closer, shrugged, and suddenly sneezed loudly—

"Achoo!"

A few drops of spittle landed precisely on the plate of stir-fried chicken in front of Qian Shaoyong.

The glistening chicken pieces were instantly covered with a layer of grayish-white specks.

Qian Shaoyong paused, his chopsticks sinking into his throat, his face darkening. Xiao Guan slammed his fist on the table and grabbed the young man by the collar: "Are you fucking asking for a beating?"

Xiao Liang didn't speak, but his hand was already on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

The entire restaurant fell silent instantly.

Behind the cashier, the female clerk glanced up and said lazily, "Don't cause trouble here." Then she continued counting the bills.

These words were hardly pleasing to Qian Shaoyong.

He stared at the plate of diced chicken, his Adam's apple bobbing, his voice as cold as ice:

"Push his head in—let him eat it all himself, bite by bite."

As soon as Xiao Guan raised his hand, the young man immediately spoke up: "Comrade, this is the canteen, it's not appropriate to resort to violence. I advise you all to hold back—if you really start fighting, no one will cover for you."

"Heh?" Qian Shaoyong sneered, raising his chin without even bothering to lift his eyelids. "Cover you up? I'll beat you to a pulp right here and now, without you even knowing which way the police station door faces. You believe me?"

"I don't believe it." The young man took a half step forward, his voice suddenly lowered, only loud enough for the people nearby to hear, "—My two buddies were eating at the next table. If a fight really broke out…" He paused, his tongue touching his back teeth, "I'd kick your balls to pieces, you believe me?"

Swah——

The color rushed to Qian Shaoyong's face, and a vein throbbed on his forehead.

No one has ever dared to say such a thing to someone's face.

These words weren't fatal, but they felt like three slaps to the face, hot and loud.

The words "crushed egg" are not a threat, but an insult.

Xiao Guan and Xiao Liang were both stunned and looked at each other—was this guy tired of living?

If they weren't afraid of actually killing someone, they would have loved to break one of his arms on the spot to vent their anger.

Before he could finish speaking, the young man suddenly raised his voice, each word clear: "Everyone, don't cause any trouble! I'm a police officer from the Chongwen District Police Station! Anyone who lays a hand on a police officer will face double the penalty, no doubt about it!"

Upon hearing this, Li Guolei and his colleagues, who had just stood up, slowly sat back down in their chairs. One of them even nodded with a smile: "Oh, so you're one of us—then we won't have to step in."

The implication was clear, though not explicitly stated: they were police officers too.

"Police officers from the local station?"

Xiao Guan and Xiao Liang both turned their gazes toward Qian Shaoyong, their eyes asking directly—Should they fight or not?

Qian Shaoyong didn't even blink.

He came from a high-ranking position, who has he ever been afraid of? How much trouble can a low-level police officer cause? Besides, if something really happens, it's Xiao Guan and Xiao Liang who will take action. He's just an instigator at most. If you pull some strings and put some pressure on them, they can get the person out of trouble immediately.

Besides—he glanced sideways at the two people sitting next to Yan Li: their hair was dyed yellow, their trousers were rolled up to their calves, their collars were open, and their cuffs were stained with oil.

Police officers?

Would a police officer spit into someone else's plate?

Would a police officer just open his mouth and call someone a "cowardly street thug"?

These days, which police officer isn't dressed neatly and speaks with tact?

Installed.

It's just a scare tactic.

He nodded sharply and decisively: "Hit."

Without saying a word, Xiao Guan unleashed a powerful punch with his right fist, aimed straight at Yan Li's left cheekbone.

"Ouch!" Yan Li covered his face and took a half step back, then turned and yelled at his deskmate, "Are you deaf? I just identified myself, and they still dared to lay a hand on me!"

"This is outrageous!"

The two youths pushed their chairs aside with a "whoosh," stood up abruptly, and rushed over in a few steps. They grabbed Xiao Guan by the collar and shoved him. Xiao Liang tried to stop them, but the other one elbowed him in the ribs. The two were immediately entangled in a tangled mess, tables and chairs overturned, bowls and plates smashed on the ground, and soup splattered everywhere.

Yan Li steadied himself, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his face dark and menacing. Pointing at Qian Shaoyong, he cursed, "You spineless scoundrel! I've revealed my identity, and you still dare to order people to beat me? You're lawless, aren't you? Come on! Come back to the station with me and sit there!"

"You fucking want to die!"

The words "no balls" were like a red-hot iron rod, piercing straight into Qian Shaoyong's lungs. He rushed forward, swung his arm, and punched Yan Li hard in the mouth.

Yan Li didn't block and took the hit head-on, his mouth immediately splitting open and blood trickling down. But the other man leaned back, using the momentum to launch a flying kick that landed solidly on Qian Shaoyong's lower abdomen.

"Well--!"

Qian Shaoyong crashed into the long table behind him, soup splattering all over his face and head, oil splattering on his eyelashes, and rice grains sticking to his neck, making it slippery and greasy. He trembled with rage, grabbed half a chopstick, and stabbed forward, yelling, "I'll fuck your ancestors—"

Before he could finish speaking, Yan Li pounced on him, his right hand reaching into his robes, his movements so fast they were just a blur.

Just as Li Guolei and his colleagues were about to speak up to stop the four men who had just separated from each other, a scream, "Ah—!!!", piercingly sharp, shrill, piercing shriek rang out.

All the diners turned their heads in unison.

Qian Shaoyong stood frozen in place, his hands gripped tightly by Yan Li, the veins on his wrists bulging. A gleaming silver knife was stuck in his right chest, about three-tenths of the way down, the blade embedded more than halfway in, and beads of blood rolled down the blade, soaking the front of his shirt.

"Murder!!"

"This is real murder!!!"

The screams and cries erupted; some people overturned their chairs and ran outside, while others hid behind the counter, trembling.

"I'm Engineer An! Let go of your hands immediately! Put your hands behind your head and squat down!" Li Guolei shouted sternly.

Upon hearing the sound, Yan Li released his grip, his body went limp, and he collapsed to the ground, his eyes closed, the knife in his chest trembling slightly with each breath.

Qian Shaoyong looked down at his hand covered in blood, then at Yan Li lying motionless on the ground. His lips moved, but no sound came out—as if his soul had been taken away.

Li Guolei and his colleague rushed forward, twisted his arms behind his back, and with two clicks, the cold handcuffs tightened around his wrists.

"To commit a crime with a knife in public, that takes guts!"

"I didn't mean to kill him! It was him—he pulled out a knife, shoved it into my hand, grabbed my wrist, and stabbed himself!" Qian Shaoyong's voice was hoarse, his words rapid and fragmented. "It really has nothing to do with me! I swear! Comrades, you have to believe me!"

He sat on the hard wooden chair in the interrogation room, his fingers still trembling uncontrollably, his mind buzzing. What was that man after? Was he willing to risk his life for his imprisonment? Had he gone mad?

Zheng Weihua sat opposite him, his back straight, a pen resting on the case file, its cap reflecting a cold light. He stared at Qian Shaoyong, speaking slowly and deliberately: "More than twenty pairs of eyes were present at the scene, including two on-duty police officers from our bureau—they saw it clearly: you held a knife in one hand and pushed him with the other, the tip of the knife plunging eight-tenths of an inch into his chest. The handle of the knife was covered in your fingerprints, and the blood on your hands, cuffs, and under your fingernails all tested positive for his. Witnesses, physical evidence, motive—everything is there. There's no denying it."

He paused briefly, his voice deepening slightly: "Furthermore—the victim, Yan Li, was indeed a regular police officer from the Chongwen District Police Station. Assaulting a police officer is an even more serious crime."

Qian Shaoyong's head buzzed, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head.

"What?!"

His throat was dry, and his eyes were wide open, almost bursting. "He...he's really a policeman?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a metallic taste rise in my throat.

Even if the person can be saved, they can't escape imprisonment.

"My father is Qian Zhuangpeng, the former director of a textile factory, now the mayor of Luo City; my uncle, Qian Zhuangfeng, is the director of the city's financial and economic bureau—I need to see them! Immediately! Right now!"

With no other options, Qian Shaoyong could only resort to using the resources at home in hopes of calming the situation down.

Unfortunately, this relationship was no secret to the investigators. To ordinary people, the Qian family father and son were indeed powerful figures who were unapproachable; but compared to the Li family, they were like trying to pry open a stone mill with a bamboo pole—not enough, not enough weight.

Among the second generation, several members of the Li family hold substantive positions at the level of a department director; the Qian family's generation has only just reached the threshold of a department director, and their foundation is shallow, their experience is limited, and their intricate network of connections is incomparable.

"You've committed a serious offense; we will notify you as necessary."

Zheng Weihua spoke in a flat tone, but a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Of course, this couldn't be kept from the Qian family. But the question is—even if they found out, what could they do?