Courtyard House: From Deputy Division Commander to Civilian, Progressing All the Way

Pei Yihong looked at the special steel that was originally intended for national defense construction, and he was so angry that he trembled all over and his eyes turned red.

He suddenly turned around, strode up to Sun Debiao who was being held firmly to the ground, grabbed his hair, and slammed his face hard onto the railway tracks.

"Five thousand tons of special steel! You beasts, even if you were torn to pieces a thousand times, you wouldn't be worth even one ten-thousandth of this steel!" Pei Yihong's voice roared like that of a wounded beast.

Zhao Lichun appeared unusually calm. He pushed up his glasses, walked up to Sun Debiao, and squatted down.

"Director Sun, stop resisting. The deputy director from the Provincial Revolutionary Committee who was protecting you was invited for 'tea' by the special investigation team from the Ministry of Heavy Industry at his home half an hour ago. Your protective umbrella has collapsed."

Zhao Lichun's voice was gentle, yet it was like the most deadly poison, completely shattering Sun Debiao's last psychological defenses.

"I confess... I confess everything... It was the deputy director who ordered me to do it..." Sun Debiao broke down and burst into tears.

"Take them away. Conduct a surprise interrogation tonight and dig out every single person on the list." Zhao Lichun stood up and gave the order in an icy tone.

A massive corruption and smuggling case that shocked the entire Northeast was completely dismantled in this thunderous operation.

At dawn.

The wind at the marshalling yard finally died down a bit.

Pei Yihong stood in front of the open, sealed freight car, reaching out to touch the cold, special steel, his gaze gradually hardening.

Zhao Lichun walked over to him, handed him a cigarette, and lit it for him himself.

The two stood side by side beside the railway tracks, watching the first hint of dawn appear on the eastern horizon.

"Yihong, we've really helped the minister make this game in the Northeast a success," Zhao Lichun said, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"This is just the beginning. As long as I'm here, not a single fly will ever get out of this factory in Northeast China." Pei Yihong took a deep drag on his cigarette, his eyes as firm as a rock.

He turned his head and looked at the train loaded with steel. Then, he strode to the locomotive's cab, pulled open the door, grabbed the cold iron handrail with one hand, and nimbly flipped into the cab.

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The massive locomotive control lever was pushed hard to the bottom by a pair of calloused hands.

The diesel locomotive let out a deafening roar, and thick black diesel exhaust fumes gushed out of the exhaust pipe, shooting straight into the night sky before dawn in Fengtian.

Accompanied by the teeth-grinding grinding of steel gears, the freight train, fully loaded with 5,000 tons of top-secret special steel, abruptly halted its northward journey in the wind and snow. It then slowly reversed, retracing its steps along the tracks it had come from, and returned to the nation's vital steel artery.

Pei Yihong stood in the locomotive cab, the wind rushing in through the half-open iron window, making his faded blue overalls flutter loudly. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the front until the train had completely entered the absolute safety zone of the military region's logistics warehouse, only then did his body, which had been as tense as a bowstring, finally relax a little.

On the platform, Zhao Lichun pulled his dark blue wool coat tighter, watching the train slowly come to a stop, a cold yet satisfied smile curving his lips.

That night, the underground network of Fengtian City and even the entire heavy industrial base of Northeast China suffered a devastating blow.

Those local officials who were usually high and mighty and controlled the allocation of supplies were like venomous snakes with their fangs pulled, trembling as they were stuffed into the dark compartment of a military truck under the guns of the Central Security Bureau's special operations team.

The sky finally brightened.

In a secret meeting room at the military region's guesthouse, a charcoal brazier was burning brightly.

The door was gently pushed open, and a figure wearing a bulky old cotton-padded coat and a large gray scarf wrapped around his head walked in silently.

Hearing the noise, Zhao Lichun, who was organizing the statements, looked up.

The person took off her scarf, revealing a face that, though somewhat haggard and roughened by the cold northeast wind, still possessed a beauty and resilience that could not be concealed.

It was Lou Xiao'e.

For the past six months, posing as an ordinary sent-down youth, she infiltrated the finance department of the Red Star Farm, working tirelessly like a ghost, unraveling the complexities of tampered accounts. Her eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, and she even survived several assassination attempts and fires, using her professional knowledge to piece together this horrifying smuggling network.

"Director Zhao." Lou Xiao'e walked to the desk, took out several black ledgers, warmed by her body heat and with worn edges, from her inner pocket, and solemnly placed them on the table.

"These are all the real material transfer records of Red Star Farm over the past three years. Every falsely reported loss, every batch of special steel and coal that flowed to the black market, has the signatures of the specific person in charge and a code checklist." Lou Xiao'e's voice was a little hoarse, but it revealed a sense of satisfaction at getting revenge.

Zhao Lichun took the ledger with both hands and casually flipped through a few pages. The densely packed numbers and annotations on it were practically a chronicle of the crimes committed by the industrial parasites of Northeast China.

"Comrade Xiao'e, you have performed a great service." Zhao Lichun closed the ledger and exclaimed sincerely, "These ledgers are more powerful than an armored division. With them, those big shots in the Northeast who think they can control everything will never get out of Qincheng Prison for the rest of their lives."

Lou Xiao'e lowered her head slightly, a hint of anticipation and anxiety flashing in her eyes.

"Director Zhao, how is my godfather... Minister Lin?"

Zhao Lichun looked at the girl whose eyes held endless emotions and smiled gently.

"The minister is doing well. Before he came to Fengtian, he specifically instructed that as long as you hand over the account books, your mission will be completely over." Zhao Lichun took out a document stamped with a large red seal from the drawer and handed it to Lou Xiao'e. "This is the transfer order. You don't need to go back to Hongxing Farm. This afternoon, I've arranged for someone to escort you directly back to Beijing on a military special plane. The Ministry's Coordination Department has reserved a deputy director position for you."

Lou Xiao'e's eyes instantly reddened as she looked at the transfer order. The anxiety and constant walking on thin ice she had endured for the past six months finally melted into tears of grievance and relief.

She reached out and touched the metal plaque engraved with a red star that she kept close to her body. It was a talisman given to her by Lin Yang, and the only faith that kept her going through countless desperate nights.

"Thank you, Director Zhao." Lou Xiao'e wiped away her tears and bowed deeply.

After seeing Lou Xiao'e off, Zhao Lichun picked up the red secure phone on the table and dialed the office of the Minister of Heavy Industry in Beijing.

"Minister, the net in the Northeast has been closed."

On the other end of the phone, Lin Yang's voice was as steady and deep as ever, without the slightest ripple.