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

"Brother Qi! Master Qi!" He clenched his fists, then hurriedly clasped them together, his knuckles white. "Is...is there really no chance at all? Please, even if there's only a sliver of hope..."

"Old Pan, once you're in the Lixingshe First Division, it's like jumping into a vat of boiling oil—you still want to bail him out?"

"If it falls into the hands of the Second Division, then it might be..."

The words had barely left his mouth when he bit down hard on his back teeth, cutting them off abruptly.

In reality, the Second Division would never make an exception for a local party member to request personnel, and Li Wenguo wouldn't get involved in this mess unless a knife was held to his confidant's throat. But Old Pan had sharp ears; upon hearing the words "Second Division," he immediately stepped forward: "Second Division? Does the Second Division really have connections? Tell me quickly!"

"No way." Ding Xiaoqi shook her head decisively. "We're on good terms in name only, and we'd practically spit in each other's faces when we meet. Besides—we're not that important, they wouldn't even give us a second glance."

Old Pan's shoulders slumped as if his bones had been pulled out. He hung his head, his lips moved silently, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out a faint, bitter smile.

Ding Xiaoqi reached out and patted his shoulder, then stood up and said, "Think it over carefully tonight. Come find me when you've figured it out."

After saying that, he turned and left, lifting the hem of his coat without looking back.

No sooner had he left than the two lookouts outside slipped in. One of them, wringing his hands anxiously, asked, "What did they find out? Where is he being held? Can we rescue him?"

Old Pan slowly raised his head, his calloused hands slapping his face, rubbing it vigorously a few times, his nails scraping against his stubble with a soft, scratching sound. Once the initial shock subsided, he spoke in a hoarse voice, "Old Fan, he's locked up. Let's go see Station Chief Lin right now!"

The three walked briskly and soon turned into a small village on the outskirts of the city, stopping in front of a courtyard with a faded medicine sign. A man in his fifties walked out of the courtyard, his expression calm and collected; he was none other than Station Master Lin of the Beijing Transportation Station.

"Station Chief Lin, the matter has been clarified—Old Fan can't be saved." Old Pan's voice was dry, like sandpaper rubbing against wood.

Station Chief Lin sighed deeply, the embers in his pipe flickering: "Old Fan is a good comrade. Even if we can't rescue him, we can't lay a finger on him. Otherwise, we'd be breaking the rules."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the three men. "If he can't withstand the torture and confesses, you'll all have to leave the capital tonight. Keep your eyes peeled these next few days, and watch out for any tails following you."

Finally, he suddenly raised his voice and stared at Old Pan: "Have you found out anything about Ding Xiaoqi? Is he reliable?"

Old Pan then recounted the entire story of the meeting at the dockside restaurant.

"So, they've probably already figured out who you are?"

Station Master Lin stood up abruptly, his expression changing drastically, and the chair leg scraped against the blue brick floor with a screeching sound.

What he fears is not the exposure of a single individual, but the complete collapse of the network.

"Why were you so reckless? What if they were casting a net to catch us? We'd all be wiped out!"

"Why didn't you report this sooner?" His voice was strained.

"Station Chief Lin, please don't panic. I was also terrified at the time, but after secretly keeping an eye on him for a few days, I found that 'Master Li' was just the accounting manager of the foreign firm. We've been dealing with him for so long, and I've never seen anyone sneakily following us or secretly investigating us."

"That's why... I didn't bother you," Old Pan replied, bowing his head.

"Oh..." Station Master Lin slowly sat back down, and a tiny red glow rekindled in his pipe.

"Do you think they were behind Lao Fan's incident?"

"If it really was a trap set by them, why did they leave out me and Lao Xing?" Lao Pan raised his eyes, his gaze calm but filled with undeniable certainty.

"That's not the reason. Recently, two hidden agents, including the dockside hotel, have been completely wiped out, and the higher-ups suspect there's a traitor within their ranks."

Station Chief Lin said in a low voice.

"Traitor? Whom do you suspect?!"

Old Pan clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He couldn't stand spineless cowards who betrayed their own people.

"We haven't locked onto it yet; we're digging deeper. But we can basically rule out our underground transportation station as a possible route—if it were really one of our own people turning against us, why would we only take down the dock hotel, a well-known stronghold? It would have been wiped out long ago."

Station Chief Lin lit a cigarette, his voice steady amidst the swirling smoke.

Actually, no one expected that there was no traitor at all. As early as three years ago, a mole had been silently planted deep within the organization.

Today, the spies, the Kuomintang, and the local party are already intertwined, their entanglements tightening like vines binding a tree. In another two years, they might even have to check fingerprints before offering each other a cup of tea.

Old Pan and his men remained steadfast, never entertaining the idea of ​​Ding Xiaoqi assassinating Old Fan; they had also secretly prepared an escape route. But Ding Xiaoqi soon sent a secret report: Old Fan had no confession, enduring seventy-two hours of torture before dying.

Of course, that wasn't the case. It was Li Wenguo who personally handed him a cup of hot tea laced with medicine—Old Fan passed away peacefully.

He dared not gamble. If Lao Fan couldn't hold back and blurted out Yang Yuerong and his own wife, that would be a catastrophe. Rather than waiting for a knife to his throat, he would rather cut off this fuse for the organization first.

No need to thank him.

He never seeks fame or signs his name when he does things.

A month later.

The cargo ship ordered by Mitsui & Co. docked. As soon as the handover procedures were completed, Li Wenguo sent spies to keep a close watch on the dock. After nightfall, he secretly infiltrated the area and, taking advantage of the space, dug straight down to the bottom of the cargo hold, silently stealing the entire cargo.

That's not all.

He carried several buckets of gasoline around the warehouse and poured it out. Before leaving, he lit a match and tossed it behind him—BOOM! The entire warehouse was engulfed in flames, burned to the ground, leaving not even a scrap of cloth behind.

This fire destroyed two million silver dollars worth of goods belonging to the Mitsui Trading Company. These included in-demand goods sold by foreign firms and military supplies transported from the mainland; all of it ended up in Li Wenguo's secret accounts.

Kotaro Stubbornly smashed three celadon teacups on the spot, his face twitching, his refined mask completely torn off. He grabbed his katana and was about to cut off the guard's head when, if Miri Mitsui hadn't intervened, the blade would have nearly cleaved his own neck.

Stubborn Oo is merely a figurehead. The real power in the Mitsui Trading Company lies with the main Mitsui family, based in Tokyo. But those people are incredibly shrewd—if they entered Beiping, they'd probably be invited into an interrogation room for a long chat before even reaching the city gates. So they rarely show themselves.

The only exception was Mitsui Miri.

Her background is as deep as a dry well; no one can find a trace of water in it.

The Japanese would never swallow this huge loss. The military police and the Special Higher Police were all dispatched, but after searching high and low, all they found was a pile of charred wooden beams and a few strands of unburnt hemp rope.

Ha, something that vanishes into thin air is something no one can touch unless the Kitchen God comes on a cloud to investigate.

However, Mitsui Miri already had a feeling: it was most likely Li Wenguo who had stabbed her in the back again. The last batch of Western medicine that was robbed had also been handed over through him. She immediately decided to personally visit this "Master Li" to see if she could find any clues under his nose.

Kill? Not likely.

Two million dollars piled up would be heavier than his head.

Besides, not even a single grain of powder was left in the fire, which clearly meant that the goods had been emptied out before the fire was started.

a few days later.

Wu Xiaogou and Xiao Jie sneaked into Wen Ke's house under the moonlight.

The two had been working non-stop for a month: going through the Mitsui & Co.’s 30-year account books, keeping a close eye on 327 people coming and going, filtering out 281 irrelevant faces, and finally identifying five suspicious locations.

"Who lives inside? Are there any Japanese soldiers?"

Li Wenguo leaned back on the soft couch, having just finished work. He was wearing a loose bathrobe and had a grape that Wen Keren had peeled and handed to him in his mouth.

By the way, Xu Meijing gave birth to a chubby boy this month, named Li Guosheng; He Shuting's belly is bulging again, and she muttered, "It's not that I don't want to have another baby, but Xiaofen is only three months old and still breastfeeding. If I raise another one, I'm afraid I'll fall apart first."

Without further ado, Li Wenguo brought back three nimble sixteen or seventeen-year-old maids the next day—one for each of the three ladies.

"Mr. Li, those dens are all properties under Mitsui's name. Some are inhabited by Japanese people, and some by local brokers. They live together."

Wu Xiaogou lowered his eyes, and Xiao Jie also tensed his neck, not daring to lift it.

Wen Keren was also wearing a bathrobe, with a loose collar and a skirt so short that it just hit the back of her knees. The two of them could only talk while staring at the tips of their shoes.

Of course, even with her eyes lowered, her peripheral vision still couldn't help but sweep over those two fair and slender legs.

To avoid losing focus, the two simply held their breath and stared intently at the small black dot on the floor, as if they were really trying to decipher its hidden patterns and mysteries.

"Those people...are they also problematic?"

Li Wenguo picked up a bright red strawberry with his fingertips and put it in his mouth.

"Yes, there's a big problem." Xiao Jie lowered his voice. "They don't have any proper jobs, but they always seem to be hiding in the streets and alleys; and there are a few who specialize in sneaking into nooks and crannies—they're probably using dead mailboxes."

"Um!"

Just as Li Wenguo opened his mouth to assign tasks, he suddenly felt Wen Keren pressed close to his side, her sleeve almost brushing against his arm. He turned his head and said in a light tone, "Go back to your room and wait for me—get me a white coat, and you change into a nurse's uniform. I'll give you an injection in a bit."

Wen Keren's ears instantly burned. She lowered her head, pursed her lips, and quickly turned and went into the room.

Wu Xiaogou and Xiao Jie breathed a sigh of relief, but when they looked at each other, their minds were full of questions: Doctor's uniform? Nurse's uniform? And injections? What on earth is going on?

Those who haven't seen those later, poignant love stories will never be able to fathom the intricacies of those words.

Those not written down in the notebook, once everyone inside is gathered, you take them out. I've prepared a radio for you—if you don't find a radio, then frame them! Go pick a few death row inmates from Niu Dali, promise to reduce their sentences to five years, and have them impersonate Japanese spies, insisting that those residences are Japanese hideouts.

Of course, I had already prepared the radio for them.

Li Wenguo slowly gave the instructions.

Wow—that's ruthless!

When it comes to setting traps and scheming, Master Li's skills are unparalleled!

Wu Xiaogou and Xiao Jie were shocked when they heard this, and they clicked their tongues in amazement.

After giving their instructions, the two turned and left.

This matter naturally had to be reported to Captain Dong Haitang.

But they knew perfectly well that Captain Dong wouldn't stop them; she always followed her husband's decisions.

Once everyone left, a playful smile appeared on Li Wenguo's face as he strolled into the room—Wen Keren had already changed into her nurse's uniform and was leaning against the bed waiting for him.

Strangely enough, almost a year has passed, and the two of them have never taken any precautions, letting nature take its course, yet Wen Keren's belly remains flat. Li Wenguo isn't in a hurry; he already has an illegitimate child, so he'll just let fate decide about having another child.

Wen Keren had already seen a doctor, who diagnosed her with a cold uterus, making it difficult for her to conceive. However, the old traditional Chinese medicine doctor confidently assured her: one course of treatment would cure her completely. Indeed, it was Baoningtang—the premier gynecology clinic in Beijing!

Ke Wenke knew what was going on. She was still young and radiant, which was why she could hold onto Li Wenguo's heart. She didn't want to get pregnant too early—once the pregnancy was stable, they would have to stop having sex, and if that went on for too long, there was no guarantee he wouldn't have other thoughts. So she planned to wait two or three years, until she was twenty-eight or twenty-nine, before getting pregnant.

Even as her beauty faded, a child held onto that bond.

After receiving the injection, Li Wenguo got up and left.

In the car, A-Gui whispered to his superior, "Master Li, Hammer just sent word—we've arrested an underground party member, the owner of a genuine pawnshop, named Huang Yuhe, in his early fifties. He couldn't withstand the torture and confessed on the spot, but he passed out before he could finish speaking and is now being rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment."

"Because he confessed, the authorities were on high alert and assigned four agents to keep a close watch on him."

"Oh, right, Lei Sheng is in that room too."

Lei Sheng was one of the three people transferred to the same department. His name wasn't because he looked like the Thunder God, but because the night his mother gave birth to him, thunder rumbled all night, so she simply named him Lei Sheng (meaning "born of thunder").

The other two are someone Hammer mentioned, and another one is named Zhang Qi.

After listening, Li Wenguo remained silent for two minutes before saying in a deep voice, "Since Huang Yuhe has already betrayed the underground party, let's send him on his way."

"Be quick, don't let him wake up and start talking."

The underground Communist Party in Beijing is rife with factions and intertwined clues. If Huang Yu is connected to the Anmin Daily, He Shuting and Yang Yuerong would be in immediate danger. Rather than gambling on luck, it's better to cut ties decisively.

Besides, since he had already betrayed the party, the underground party itself wouldn't tolerate him. Li Wenguo simply decided to clean house for them first—he didn't expect them to thank him later.

After the order was given, Ding Xiaoqi, Agui, Haozi, and Binzi quickly ate a few bites of rice and then hurriedly set off after sending Li Wenguo home.

They went straight to the hospital.

Ah Gui went up to the third floor and immediately saw at the end of the corridor four secret agents in Zhongshan suits, their faces cold and their eyes sharp as knives, guarding a ward.

He quickened his pace, his hands gesturing to his belt, looking like he was desperate to find a restroom.

The four agents immediately tensed up, their eyes fixed on him.

Until he slipped into the bathroom.

He came out humming a little tune while he was taking a piss, and was glared at as he passed by.

After another hour, one of the agents gestured with his chin toward his companions: "You guys keep watch, I'm going to the toilet."

It was Lei Sheng.

He pushed the door open and looked around to make sure no one was there before bending down to lift the lid of the first cubicle's water tank—underneath lay a note and a pack of cigarettes.

"At 10 PM tonight, use sleeping powder to knock them out. Replace the cigarettes afterwards, just as they were."

Lei Sheng put the cigarette in his pocket and tore the note into pieces, flushing it down the toilet.

When he came out, there was no trace of anything unusual on his face.