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

He didn't rush to give a response, but instead asked, "Have you offended anyone recently?"

"Offended someone?" Li Guoxuan was taken aback, and subconsciously shook his head. "No. I even give way to people when we're arguing over a bike lane... There's no one like that at work—oh, wait..."

He suddenly got stuck, as if something was pressing against his teeth.

Zheng Weihua immediately looked up: "At work?"

"Yes... A couple of days ago, the new Director Han took office. His son, Han Zhili, blocked me at the stairwell and told me to stay away from Cao Ying, or else he would 'make me look bad'."

He gave a wry smile. "I even mentioned Guofu's name—that he was my own brother. I thought, surely he wouldn't actually do something like that over something so trivial, would he?"

"The new bureau chief's surname is Han?"

"Yes, Han Zhiyi."

"What about the other deputy director in the branch office?"

Li Guoxuan's mind went blank for a moment, as if someone had struck him with a gong next to his ear.

"Also surnamed Han."

He stared at Zheng Weihua, his lips moving slightly without uttering a sound, but the meaning was crystal clear—

Han Zhili, Han Zhiyi, Young Master Han, Deputy Director Han...

Three black fruits grew on one vine.

Outside the iron bars, the night wind whipped locust leaves against the window frame.

Li Guoxuan sat on a hard bench, his hands folded on his knees. He wasn't handcuffed, but the room felt heavier than any shackles.

The rules at that time stipulated that suspects could not be released on bail until the case was solved. He had no choice but to stay here and endure the night.

"Han Zhili?"

Zheng Weihua repeated the name softly, holding it on the tip of his tongue like he was holding an unshelled walnut.

"Alright, I understand. You've offended the Li family, and I'll settle this score with you, one by one."

At the entrance of the branch office, after listening to his brother-in-law Zheng Weihua's words, Li Guoxian's lips twitched. His voice was not loud, but it sounded like a shard of ice hitting the ground.

He had barely finished dealing with the Chen family lad from that compound when another guy surnamed Han popped up, still banging on the door with a bowl in hand—he wasn't intimidated, just annoyed. The more annoyed he was, the more determined he became.

"You need to know the importance of discretion."

Zheng Weihua was a year younger than Li Guoxian, but he knew his brother-in-law's temperament well: he seemed calm and collected, but when he got really stubborn, he dared to challenge even the heavens. He quickly added, his tone full of support rather than persuasion.

"Don't worry, I won't cause you any trouble."

Li Guoxian waved his hand, hopped on his old bicycle, the bell rang crisply, and he had already turned out of the alley, his back view as neat as a taut string.

When he got home, he first made Qin Huairu a cup of hot tea, then pushed the half-cold bowl of porridge on the table in front of her: "Drink some to warm yourself up." He didn't say much, but his eyes were warm and his hands were steady. Only at the end did he lower his voice and say, "Don't mention Dad yet. We'll handle this ourselves."

Li Wenguo is now in his early forties, broad-shouldered and straight-backed, able to lift a 300-pound cement pipe with one arm. But no matter how strong he is, he's still a father. His children are all grown up; why should he be the one to put on his clothes and go out to clean up other people's messes? If he did that, it wouldn't be loving his children, it would be slapping them in the face.

The next day arrived in the blink of an eye.

Just after eight o'clock in the morning, Officer Zhang and Officer Lin entered the duty room and saw Sun Xiaowang squatting on a bench in the corridor, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his tattered cotton-padded jacket, looking listless as he waited. The two exchanged a glance, then stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder: "Come on, let's go back to the station and talk."

The statement was taken very quickly, and Sun Xiaowang cooperated readily—he poured out everything like beans spilling from a bamboo tube, explaining clearly how Li Guoxuan taught him to pick locks, how to divide the loot, and how to arrange to meet at the back wall of the grain station. He even gave Li Guoxuan's department in the Construction Bureau, his employee number, and which desk he usually sat at, without missing a single detail.

The witness testimonies, details, and timeline are all so well-organized that it's impossible not to believe it.

Without much thought, officers Zhang and Lin drafted their report on the spot: The theft was completed; the principal offender was Li Guoxuan, and the accomplice was Sun Xiaowang.

At 9:17, the official document determining the nature of the case was stamped. Officer Zhang then dialed the Construction and Social Affairs Bureau office to report the case details.

At 10:03, Zheng Weihua finished the morning meeting, picked up his enamel mug, and pushed open the office door. Just as he was about to arrange the follow-up handling, he heard the report, his hand trembled, and the strong tea in the mug almost spilled. He rushed into the internal affairs office, grabbed the two people in charge, and asked, "Who gave you permission to make such a judgment without going through the proper channels?! Who gave you the guts?" His voice wasn't loud, but every word was like a nail hitting the ground.

"Retry the case!" he said decisively. "Go to the branch office and retrieve the case files right now!"

A retrial? They'd love to.

As long as the Bureau of Social Development removes Li Guoxuan from his public office and party membership, whether the case is established or not becomes less important.

Construction Bureau, third floor of the office building, office.

Director Yao put down the receiver, his brows furrowing deeply. The call was from the Public Security Bureau; the tone was firm, and the wording stern. But as he stared at the construction drawings Li Guoxuan had submitted last month on the table, the reinforcement details marked in red pen, densely packed and meticulous—would someone like that be hiding in the back alley of a hardware store in the middle of the night stealing wrenches?

"Here we go again..." He tapped his fingertips on the table and muttered to himself.

Three days ago, Director Han's son personally came to his door, smiling broadly, and said, "Director Yao, Li Guoxuan is quite capable. Our urban construction company is short of a technical backbone," and wanted to transfer him. He politely declined at the time, giving a very honest reason: "He was just awarded the title of advanced worker, and the project is currently at a critical juncture; I can't be replaced."

Two years earlier, Lin Guosheng's "hooliganism" farce followed the same pattern: first, he would try to pressure someone, and if that didn't work, he would throw dirty water on that person. In the end, Lin Guosheng was sentenced, and the bureau posted a self-criticism notice for three months. To this day, some veteran employees still remember that when he walked out of the gate in handcuffs, his trouser legs were still covered in mud.

These two things are too close together, like two buttons; with a gentle tug, the whole garment is exposed.

He stared at the four characters "Seek Truth from Facts" written in calligraphy on the wall, and hesitated for a moment—should he report it directly to the newly arrived Director Han? But then he thought, if something happens and he doesn't report it to the top leader, but goes to the deputy director in charge, Li Jingye, first, what if Han Gongzi whispers a few words in his ear, and tomorrow he might have to move from the director's office to the reception room.

Just as I was making plans, the phone rang again.

This time it was Officer Zhang calling, his tone light and cheerful: "Director Yao, it's done, don't worry. Young Master Han just hung up on me and said he's coming right away!"

Before he could finish speaking, the office door was pushed open with a bang.

Young Master Han stood at the door, his leather shoes gleaming, his hair neatly combed, a newly printed "Situation Report" in his hand. A smile played on his lips, but his eyes were devoid of warmth: "Director Yao, did you receive the call from the branch office just now?"

He desperately wanted Director Yao to immediately convene all the middle-level managers, read out the notice in the conference room, and announce Li Guoxuan's dismissal on the spot—ideally with the added statement, "This person is morally corrupt and will not be tolerated."

"He did it."

Director Yao was completely relieved.

Just ten minutes later, as soon as the news from the branch office landed, Young Master Han barged in as if he had super hearing—what else could it be but someone inside tipping him off?

Arrogant, mean, and utterly cunning.

But Director Yao had spent twenty years in the government office and had long since developed the ability to maintain a calm exterior while harboring a deep, unwavering mind. He picked up his teacup, blew away the foam, and said slowly, "Li Guoxuan's matter is a complex issue with far-reaching consequences. If we're truly wrong, the bureau will lose face, and the organization will have an even harder time explaining itself. I need to verify it again. I'll go to the branch office at noon and we'll discuss it again this afternoon."

"Verify?"

Young Master Han raised an eyebrow, his smile fading. "Director Yao, do you not trust the police?"

"I trust him." Director Yao didn't even lift his eyelids. "But police officers have people too, they get tired, and they can make mistakes. It's always better to be safe than sorry."

"To be on the safe side?" Young Master Han sneered. "He's already confessed and signed the papers, the branch office has issued an official notice, and you still want to be 'safe'? Could it be—" he drawled, "that you really think he's innocent?"

"Thump, thump, thump."

The knock was crisp and gentle, neither hurried nor slow.

"Please come in." Director Yao put down his cup.

The door opened, and Cao Ying poked half her body in. She was wearing a light blue work jacket today, her ponytail tied high and neatly. Her gaze swept over Young Master Han without pausing, then turned to Director Yao: "Director Yao, Li Guoxuan didn't come to work today. I came to ask if he's sick, or if he's taken leave for something?"

She and Li Guoxuan both work in the infrastructure department. Every day at 7:40, they go downstairs together and part ways at the intersection of Erdao Street. Yesterday, he even helped her carry a stack of design specifications, saying, "They're heavy, I'll drop them off at the bus stop on my way."

But this morning, the stairwell was deserted.

Upon hearing this, Young Master Han immediately interrupted Director Yao before she could speak, his voice shrill and piercing: "Comrade Cao Ying, you don't know yet, do you? The branch office just called—Li Guoxuan stole something, he's been arrested, and they're interrogating him!"

"What?!"

"Theft???"

"Absolutely impossible!!!"

Upon hearing this, Cao Ying's first reaction was to shake her head.

She subconsciously turned to look at Director Yao.

Director Yao merely raised his eyelids slightly, his tone flat: "There is indeed such a thing, but the details haven't been finalized yet. I plan to personally go to the branch office at noon to ask about it in person."

Cao Ying's heart tightened, and without thinking, she blurted out, "Director Yao, I need to ask for leave. I'll go to the branch office right now."

He got up, picked up the cloth bag from the table, and walked quickly toward the door.

"Wait, Comrade Cao Ying!"

Young Master Han darted out and followed her to her desk.

She quickly gathered the documents, stuffed them into her bag, and grabbed an old coat draped over the back of her chair. A dozen or so clerks were at their workstations in the office. His eyes darted around, and suddenly he raised his voice, each word clear and distinct:

"Comrade Cao Ying! Comrade Li Guoxuan is suspected of theft, and the Public Security Bureau has officially opened a case—this is not baseless! The facts are there, and there's no denying it! We now see this person clearly: he's of bad character, has shady dealings, and even dares to steal public property—such a person should have been dismissed from the unit long ago! What are you trying to achieve by rushing over there?"

brush--

The commotion in the hall instantly subsided.

The sounds of turning pages, turning the abacus, and clattering teacups on the table all ceased. A dozen pairs of eyes swept over, staring at Young Master Han's flushed face.

But in just a few seconds, some people looked down to continue looking at the materials, some picked up their enamel mugs and blew on them, some opened drawers to look for their stamps... and then the place came alive again with rustling sounds.

Young Master Han stood frozen in place, his lips still clenched, but his eyes were wide open—why was no one echoing him? No one slamming their fists on the table? No one expressing their righteous indignation?

"Isn't it strange that no one is responding to your remarks?"

"Why isn't anyone surprised?"

Cao Ying tightened her bag strap, turned to look at him, raised her eyebrows slightly, and her eyes were devoid of any warmth.

Young Master Han was taken aback, not understanding the implied meaning.