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

As soon as he finished speaking, three plainclothes officers circled around the flowerbed from both sides and stood silently. Wang Tingxuan felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively took half a step behind his second uncle.

Wang Hanli stared at Wang Ruibo's tie clip—a small silver five-pointed star—and his heart skipped a beat.

really.

Wang Ruibo took a half step forward, his gaze fixed on Wang Tingxuan's face: "Wang Tingxuan, someone has filed a formal complaint alleging that your cassette tape factory has been illegally recording and distributing audio-visual products for a long time. This afternoon, we seized the operating production line and 62,000 finished cassette tapes on site, all of which have been sealed. Seven workers are currently cooperating with the investigation at the bureau." He paused slightly, his voice flat, yet like a weight falling to the ground, "You are the legal representative, you are the factory manager, and the signature on the production license document is also yours."

Wang Tingxuan's face turned pale instantly: "Impossible! The factory stopped operating a long time ago! I told everyone to go home and wait on standby last week, and all the machines were powered off!" He abruptly turned to look at Wang Hanli, his voice strained, "Second Uncle, you were there that day, please say something!"

Wang Hanli's lips moved, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he ultimately didn't make a sound.

Wang Ruibo stepped aside, and two young police officers stepped forward, placing their hands lightly on Wang Tingxuan's shoulders. The pressure was light, but felt like two iron hoops: "Engineer Wang, please come back to the station with us and explain things clearly."

Wang Tingxuan was about to speak when Wang Hanli suddenly reached out and gently pressed his wrist, then nodded to Wang Ruibo: "Director Wang, may I speak to you in private?"

Wang Ruibo shook his head, his movements light but resolute: "Chairman Wang, if you have something to say, let's talk at the station."

He raised his hand to signal, and the group turned and walked out. Sunlight slanted in, casting long, silent shadows on the polished marble floor.

"Mr. Wang, you are one of the shareholders of the tape factory. Please come with us to the station to cooperate with the investigation."

The group quickly arrived at the police station.

The clock had quietly passed seven o'clock in the evening.

Everyone was hungry, but no one mentioned eating.

This case was personally overseen by Mayor Li's son, Li Jiayu. Director Wang Ruibo had barely entered his office when he quietly dialed Wang Hancheng's number. The voice on the other end was calm and clear—the eight words, "According to the law and regulations, treating everyone equally," resonated deeply. He hung up, his stomach rumbling, but his hand immediately opened the case file, heading straight to the interrogation room to personally question Wang Tingxuan.

Wang Tingxuan's hands were handcuffed to the armrests of the interrogation chair, and his feet were locked in the buckles on the iron chair legs. His collar was askew, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his face was flushed and pale.

"My father is Wang Hancheng! What are you doing?!" He struggled violently, the chains rattling, his voice hoarse, "Don't you know who I am?!"

He wasn't unaware of the need for dignity, but at this moment, even sitting up straight was a struggle. The only son of the most powerful man in Shanghai was being forced onto a cold iron chair, like a bird with its wings bound—it wasn't just him who was losing face; it was the prestige of the company, and the reputation of the entire city.

"Wang Tingxuan, the pirated cassette tapes, production line, and packaging materials were all seized on the spot at the factory; all eleven workers gave complete statements, unanimously identifying 'the factory arranged it.' You'd better think carefully before you speak."

Wang Ruibo pushed a stack of photos onto the edge of the table, the corners of the papers slightly curled up. He didn't sit up straight, but leaned against the table, his gaze straight ahead, exuding an air of authority without anger. This concerned Young Master Wang Hancheng; if anyone else came to ask, he feared he wouldn't be able to maintain his composure.

"It's stopped! Production stopped a long time ago!" Wang Tingxuan gasped for breath, veins bulging in his neck. "I never gave the order to start production! If it had actually started, it must have been someone else's idea—it has nothing to do with me! It really has nothing to do with me!"

He spoke rapidly, as if trying to get the words out before his thoughts could even form. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he froze: When did the factory resume production? Who signed the resumption order? Who transferred the warehouse goods? He, the factory manager, knew absolutely nothing?

"You're the factory manager and a shareholder." Wang Ruibo raised his eyes, his voice not loud, but each word slammed onto the table. "In the entire factory, who dares to act without your permission?"

Wang Tingxuan's Adam's apple bobbed, but he couldn't reply.

Yes, he didn't own many shares, but he handled everything in the factory—from roll call and shift scheduling to payroll and signatures—for all three hundred employees. Without his seal and verbal approval, not a single machine could be powered on. But… it really wasn't his order.

Where did that order come from?

"Smack—!!!"

It exploded with a crisp sound.

Wang Ruibo slammed his hand on the table, causing the teacup to bounce and water droplets to splash onto the case file.

Wang Tingxuan trembled, his shoulders instinctively hunching up.

"Explain yourself! The factory's ownership is registered under your name, Qi Zhendong's name, and Wang Hanli's name. Did the other two shareholders authorize you to produce the goods? Did they receive any profits? Were they involved in the planning? Speak!"

Wang Ruibo's gaze was like a knife.

He knew the details: the tape factory was actually run by Qi Zhendong and Wang Hanli, with Wang Tingxuan merely a nominal minority shareholder. Even his dividends were deposited into his account quarterly, and he never interfered in the operations. No one would believe that he was the sole operator.

Moreover, Wang Hancheng himself stated: "Investigate what needs to be investigated, and punish what needs to be punished." — This sounds fair, but in reality, it blocks all avenues.

Of course, Wang Tingxuan's name is clearly written on all contracts, licenses, and liability agreements. Even if he implicates two other people, as long as they insist that they "did not know," "did not sign," and "did not receive any dividends," he still cannot produce conclusive evidence.

Why not give it a try?

"No! Really not!" Wang Tingxuan shook his head violently, his wrists aching from the handcuffs, the scraping sound of metal ringing out shrilly. "It was done by my subordinates behind my back! It has absolutely nothing to do with us three shareholders!"

"Wang Tingxuan," Wang Ruibo leaned forward, his voice lower but deeper, "You are the factory manager. Even if someone else gave the order, you can't escape responsibility for dereliction of duty; you can't escape responsibility for lack of daily management. If you take the initiative to explain now, it can be considered an attitude; if you stubbornly resist to the end and wait for the chain of evidence to close, it will only aggravate the situation."

Wang Tingxuan's lips trembled, and he suddenly lowered his head, his shoulders shaking slightly: "I want to see my dad... I want to see Shu Ji..."

The voice was softer, but it carried a stubbornness that suggested a desperate gamble.

His father is a big shot in Shanghai, the true helmsman of the city. Even Li Jiayu treats him with respect; how could he not protect his own son?

Wang Ruibo paused for two seconds before speaking, his tone calm yet chilling: "Before the operation began, I consulted Comrade Wang Hancheng in person. He said—'Do whatever needs to be done.'"

The color drained from Wang Tingxuan's face instantly.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out; he only muttered repeatedly, "How could this be... how could this be..."

My eyes burned, and a tear rolled down unexpectedly, hitting the armrest of the iron chair and spreading a small dark patch.

He got it.

The worker didn't name names, only saying "the factory made me do it"—but the factory is none other than Wang Tingxuan.

The official seal was in his drawer, the keys were on his waist, and the attendance sheet was on his desk. If mud gets into your pants, it's not excrement, and it can't be washed away.

What's even more disheartening is that even her own father has firmly distanced himself from her.

Just as a chill ran through him, he suddenly remembered something his father had casually mentioned during a meal: "Your second uncle, Wang Hanli, is too cunning and unreliable."

At the time, he took it as just a common squabble between elders and laughed it off.

But now, that unintentional remark, like a needle, has unexpectedly pierced my mind.

Outside the door, a young policeman knocked twice and poked half his face in: "Director Wang, Comrade Wang Hanli has arrived and is waiting for you in the reception room."

Wang Ruibo got up, said nothing, and went straight out the door.

At the end of the corridor, Wang Hanli stood by the window, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Seeing Wang Ruibo approach, he turned to the side, a familiar smile spreading across his face, the lines around his eyes smoothing out like a perfectly pressed mask.

"Director Wang, I've heard about what happened." His voice was gentle, with just the right amount of worry. "But before, the elder brother personally promised Tingxuan that the factory had to be shut down and rectified. Now that it's suddenly resuming production, could it be that the subordinates are deceiving their superiors and keeping it from the child? You must investigate this thoroughly."

He paused, lowered his voice slightly, but his smile remained: "Besides... Tingxuan's status is what it is. Some things are interconnected, and a single move can have far-reaching consequences. You understand this better than I do."

—This is an attempt to drag Wang Hancheng down with them.

Qi Zhendong and he had already planned it out: if you want quick money, you have to take shortcuts; if you take shortcuts, you need someone to protect you. Without someone to protect you, you can't even get your goods out of Shanghai's docks.

Wang Ruibo didn't respond, but just looked at him quietly.

He had seen this face no less than twenty times—at meetings, research trips, group photos, and visits to offer condolences… as familiar as his own house number. But today, for the first time, he felt that beneath that smile, the skin was like a thin layer of wax, and something was churning beneath—dark, sticky, and chillingly cold.

He nodded, his tone calm: "Before the operation, I consulted Comrade Wang Hancheng. His exact words were—'Follow the procedures exactly, no prior notice, no notes, no favoritism.'"

Wang Hanli's smile froze.

Half a second later, the corners of his mouth slowly relaxed, like a puppet with its strings cut.

He finally realized: his brother hadn't been dragged down.

On the contrary, the ship not only did not sink, but an enforcement boat that patrolled day and night was also installed on the surface of the water.

"Comrade Wang Hanli, at the tape factory, most workers say the factory ordered them to continue production; however, your nephew Wang Tingxuan insists that he issued a stop-production notice two weeks ago and told everyone to go home and rest temporarily—several experienced workers have also confirmed this. So I'd like to ask you: is there some inside story we haven't figured out?"

Wang Ruibo leaned slightly forward, his tone calm, yet every word he spoke was substantial.

"I really don't know." Wang Hanli spread his hands and shrugged slightly. "You're right. Wang Tingxuan has been in charge of the factory from beginning to end. The other shareholder and I haven't even looked at the books. If Director Wang hadn't come to our door in person after this incident, I wouldn't even have known that the factory was still smoking."

As soon as he finished speaking, Wang Ruibo felt as if he had been splashed with cold tea – his elder brother Wang Hancheng had just adopted a businesslike demeanor, but he had pulled his hand away faster than anyone else, without even getting a speck of dust on his sleeve.