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

The leader squatted down, grinned, revealing a gold tooth: "Young Master Qian? Someone here has given instructions—you have to take good care of him."

This man is called Xiao Cong. He took the blame for Xiao Fo's theft years ago and spent three years in prison. And he wasn't the only one; there were seven or eight men in the room, all there because of that sentence.

Less than three seconds later, the fist came down.

"Bang!" "Crack!" "Thud!" "Clang—"

Interspersed with muffled groans, pleas for mercy, and the ear-piercing scraping sound of a bucket being kicked over.

Outside the door, the prison guard leaned against the wall, slowly taking out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out and putting it in his mouth. The flame hissed and leaped up. He took a deep drag, then held the cigarette between his fingers, letting it burn on its own. When the ash had piled up and was almost impossible to fall off, he finally raised his hand and slowly knocked on the iron door: "Alright, leave me a moment."

The inside immediately dispersed.

Qian Shaoyong lay sprawled on the cement floor, blood from his nose mixed with saliva dripping into the corner of his mouth. His right eye was swollen shut, and his left wrist was twisted at an odd angle. His chest rose and fell, his breathing sounding like a broken bellows.

Xiao Cong squatted down and gently nudged his calf with the tip of his shoe: "Hang in there, it's only the first day."

He stared at the swaying light bulb on the ceiling, with only one thought in his mind: if there were a gun pointed at his temple right now, he wouldn't hesitate to blink.

Over the next few days, he tried banging his head against the wall, but was held down; he thought about biting his tongue, but his mouth was pried open and salt water was poured into his mouth; at night, he was curled up in a corner and forced to drink urine and lick feces—the taste pierced his throat, making him vomit bile, which was then forced back down.

Outside, things didn't stop either.

Deep in the alley, Xiao Guan and Xiao Liang were cornered against a wall. Xiao Fo swung a locust wood stick as thick as a rolling pin, striking them repeatedly on the backs of their knees. Two crisp "crack" sounds rang out, like dry firewood snapping. The two collapsed on the spot, their cries turning into distorted screams, their voices hoarse and torn.

"Stop hitting me! I won't do it again!"

"Grandpa! Please spare me!"

They weren't the masterminds, but they were all there, handing out sticks, keeping watch, and gossiping—none of them were left out. Li Guoxian held grudges, but he remembered kindness even more. He didn't do the work himself, but no one dared to disobey his orders.

—The corner of the third floor of the Construction Bureau office building.

Han Zhili leaned against the fire hydrant box, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, the Rolex on his wrist reflecting a cold light. He stared at Li Guoxuan walking towards him, saying each word clearly, "Li Guoxuan, stay away from Cao Ying. If I see you getting close to her again, don't blame me for being unruly."

He was the only son of the newly appointed Director Han, and he had long had his eye on Cao Ying. Cao Ying initially used Li Guoxuan as a shield, but later, feeling guilty and ashamed, and afraid of implicating him, she simply decided to marry him.

Li Guoxuan did not agree.

For no other reason than that he had just turned twenty-seven and wasn't in a hurry to get married; he also knew very well that Cao Ying's feelings were a mixture of gratitude and apology, a "repayment of kindness" that she had forced upon him out of fear of hurting him. He didn't want her to wake up one day and look at the person next to her, suddenly feeling that her whole life had been bought with grievances.

So he refused.

That's why Han Zhili is standing across the stairwell right now, saying this.

But Li Guoxuan is no longer the greenhorn he was two years ago, fresh out of college, waiting foolishly outside the personnel department with his file folder. In the past two years, he has been running around construction sites, scrutinizing blueprints, and wrestling with construction teams, while also quietly sorting out some old relationships behind the scenes—for example, the former bureau chief, Li Guofu, was actually his own brother.

He stopped, neither smiling nor bowing his head, but calmly looking at Han Zhili: "I'm not without connections in the bureau. Former Director Li is my brother. If you want to touch me, you'd better consider whether you're powerful enough."

After saying that, he turned sideways and walked under Han Zhili's arm.

Han Zhili stood there, his expression changing three times, his knuckles turning white from clenching his fists, but he ultimately didn't speak again.

"Dad, have you heard of Li Guoxuan, the guy who works in the lobby of our bureau? Does he have some powerful connections?"

Han Zhili strode into her father's office, her tone tentative yet tinged with urgency.

"I just spoke with him for a bit—he said the former bureau chief, Li Guofu, is his older brother. Is that believable?"

Director Han was flipping through a document when he heard the question. He paused, looked up, and frowned slightly: "Li Guoxuan?"

He pondered for a moment, then shook his head: "I don't remember."

The Bureau of Construction has about a hundred employees, and Li Guoxuan is just a clerk at the front desk of the lobby. He has a low rank and rarely appears in public. Even his attendance sheet is often categorized as an "auxiliary position". Director Han has only been in office for a little over a month, so how could he possibly know all of them?

"However... I do know Li Guofu." He closed the file, his tone softening. "He started from the old Construction Bureau, working his way up step by step, becoming the bureau chief in his early forties. Later, he was transferred to be the mayor, almost ten years younger than me. If we're talking about background—he's probably much more powerful than me."

age!

Han Zhili's heart skipped a beat, as if he had been gently bumped by something.

His father is in his early fifties, Li Guofu is in his early forties, and Li Guoxuan is only in his early twenties—a difference of more than twenty years. He's barely qualified to be a son, let alone a younger brother? That's outrageous.

—Ha, you're quite the actor.

He touched his back teeth with the tip of his tongue, remained silent, and swallowed the curse back into his stomach.

"By the way, what do you want with him?" Director Han asked casually, taking a sip of tea from his thermos.

"Oh, I just heard he had some connections, so I asked casually." Han Zhili smiled and said casually, "Now it seems that it was probably just a rumor spread by my subordinates."

You can't exactly say that you went to investigate Li Guoxuan's background specifically for Cao Ying's sake.

After saying that, he got up and left, his steps quick and brisk, heading straight for the office of Yao Zhiyuan, the office director.

The door was ajar. He knocked twice and then pushed it open to go inside.

"Director Yao, there's something I'd like to ask you for a favor."

Yao Zhiyuan was bent over his desk reviewing documents when he heard this. He looked up, his face beaming with his usual smile, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes adding to his charm: "Oh, Young Master Han has arrived? Please, please speak."

"I want to transfer Li Guoxuan from the lobby to a subordinate unit."

The subordinate units of the Construction Bureau, such as the Urban Construction Archives and the Municipal Engineering Service Center, are nominally under the bureau, but in reality, their staffing, funding, and personnel are all managed by the district. Their job rank is half a grade lower, and their promotion is slower. More importantly, they are three streets and two traffic lights away from the bureau's office building where Cao Ying works, making it difficult to run into each other.

Yao Zhiyuan's smile remained unchanged, but his eyelids drooped slightly as he picked up his teacup and blew on it: "Oh... about this."

He slowly sipped his tea before continuing, "Someone in the bureau told us to keep an eye on Li Guoxuan, that young man."

Han Zhili was taken aback: "Who?"

"Deputy Director," Yao Zhiyuan said, his eyes lowered and his voice neither loud nor soft, "I can't say exactly who it is—but the message carried weight when it reached me."

Han Zhili stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly smiled, didn't reply, and just nodded: "Okay, I understand."

As he turned to leave, the corridor light shone on his profile, casting a long, thin shadow.

His father had just taken over the Construction Bureau, and the leadership team wasn't yet in place. He couldn't afford to offend any of the middle-level cadres. This was the advice his father gave him before he took office, patting him on the shoulder: "Stability is paramount; weave the net first, then reap the rewards."

But right now, it seems that the net has just been cast and has been caught on the edge by a thin thread.

He paused at the top of the stairs for a moment, tilted his head back, took a breath, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Fine, let's see how long you can stay hard."

If the authorities can't touch you, then let's try somewhere else.

A few days later, just after six o'clock in the evening.

Li Guoxuan rode his old bicycle home, a half-sack of vegetables hanging on the back rack. The evening breeze carried the dampness of early summer, causing the wisps of hair on his forehead to sway slightly.

Suddenly, I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

He instinctively turned around—a man in a gray jacket had already rushed up to him and, without saying a word, shoved a bulging brown paper package into his arms, the movement as fast as if it had been rehearsed ten times.

Li Guoxuan was taken aback and instinctively reached out to support it, but the man flicked his wrist, and the paper package fell to the ground with a "thud," revealing several neatly bundled stacks of banknotes.

The man acted as if he hadn't seen him, only winking at him before raising his voice: "See you at the usual place!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already turned into a narrow alley next door and disappeared in a few steps.

Li Guoxuan stood frozen in place, the handlebars askew, the wheels still turning slowly. He looked down at the bag of money on the ground, then looked up at the alley entrance, his lips moved, but no sound came out.

Just then, a short, powerful whistle sounded from afar.

Two young men in dark blue police uniforms rushed out from the street corner, their epaulets swaying as they ran, and charged straight at him.

"Stop! Don't move!"

A large hand slammed down on his left shoulder, while another hand gripped his right wrist with considerable force.

"Tell me! Where did your accomplices go?!"

The white walls of the interrogation room were glaring, and the eight red characters on the wall, "Confess and be treated leniently, resist and be punished severely," had just been painted, and the smell of paint had not yet dissipated.

An officer sat behind a desk, leaning forward, tapping his fingers on the surface: "Confess honestly! The location where the stolen money was handed over, the division of labor, the source of the stolen goods—don't leave out a single detail!"

His tone was fierce, and his eyes were even fiercer, but he kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at the crack in the door, as if waiting for some signal.

Li Guoxuan sat in the chair opposite him, his back straight, his hands on his knees, neither struggling nor bowing his head.

"I don't know him." His voice was flat and his pace even. "The things were forced on me, and I don't even know his name."

"Third time here, huh?" the officer scoffed, clicking off the cap of his pen. "You know this place better than we do."

"The first time was to deliver a household registration booklet for a neighbor, and the second time was to pick up a medical insurance form for a colleague." Li Guoxuan looked up. "This time, it was also given to me by someone else."

"Bullshit!" The other person slammed their hand on the table. "He told you to 'meet at the usual place,' you two planned it all along! He'd steal, you'd help him out—you're fast on your bike, you can get away, we can't catch you!"

Li Guoxuan didn't refute him, but just looked at him quietly: "If I were an accomplice, why didn't I just get on the bike and leave the moment I got the stuff?"

There was a two-second silence in the room.

The officer squinted.

Li Guoxuan continued, "I stopped in my tracks because I didn't realize what was happening at all. It wasn't until you got closer that I realized—something was wrong."

"Something's not right?" The officer sneered, grabbing a piece of paper from the table and throwing it at you. "The surveillance footage is crystal clear! He threw his bag, you bent down to pick it up, and when you saw us, your hand hovered in mid-air, too afraid to move—that's hesitation! That's a guilty conscience!"

"But if I'm truly guilty," Li Guoxuan pushed the printed paper back, tapping the corner with his fingertip, "why should I wait until you get closer before 'hesitating'?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the number tag on the other person's chest: "What do you think?"

Inside the interrogation room, the air conditioner hummed like an old tractor, waiting for the next instruction.

The interrogation room was brightly lit, making people's faces look bloodless.