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

"Deputy Investigator Zhao."

Shen Yan strode into the office, his leather shoes making a dull sound on the old wooden floor.

He didn't look at the trembling junior clerk; his gaze fell directly on Zhao Lichun's aged and haggard face. His voice was flat, without a trace of emotion.

"Put down what you're holding. Come with me. The chairman wants to see you."

The moment the word "Chairman" rang out in the office, Zhao Lichun could no longer hold onto the two thermos flasks in his hands.

"Clang! Crash!"

The thermos flask crashed heavily to the ground, its glass liner shattering instantly, and the remaining hot water mixed with glass shards splashed all over the floor.

But Zhao Lichun couldn't feel the slight heat on his legs at all.

His lips trembled violently, and large, cloudy tears welled up in his eyes instantly.

"The...the president...the president wants to see me..."

Zhao Lichun's voice was so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable, with a sob that was suppressed to the extreme.

He didn't even have time to grab the old coat from the hanger. He stumbled around the desk, like a dying man grasping at his last straw, desperately following behind Shen Yan as they left the prison that had confined him for thousands of days and nights.

Until their figures completely disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Xiao Wang, the junior clerk who was huddled in the corner, suddenly collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. His shirt was completely soaked with cold sweat.

He stared in horror at the shattered glass on the ground, his mind replaying Shen Yan's address to Zhao Lichun and the chilling title of "Chairman".

He finally realized what terrifying and overwhelming background was hidden behind the old geezer he had just ordered to turn on the water!

The sky over Beijing was gray and hazy.

A black Hongqi sedan without any license plates, escorted by several jeeps, moved like a ghost through the crisscrossing streets.

Inside the carriage, it was warm and cozy, and the soundproofing was so good that you couldn't hear a single sound from the outside world.

But even sitting in the leather seat in the back, Zhao Lichun still felt a chill all over his body. The bone-chilling cold made him tremble uncontrollably.

Shen Yan sat beside him, saying nothing, looking down as he flipped through an internal briefing.

This deathly silence was undoubtedly the cruelest form of psychological torture for Zhao Lichun.

He didn't know why Lin Yang had summoned him this time.

Is it finally time to thoroughly settle accounts with him for the transgressions he committed in the Handong region back then, and prepare to send him to trial? Or is it like when they pulled him out of the basement cowshed back then, preparing to use this rusty poison knife again?

Countless thoughts collided wildly in Zhao Lichun's political brain, which was now running at full speed again, weaving together a dense web that suffocated him.

The convoy did not head towards the imposing Modern Reform and Development Association building on Sanlihe Road.

Instead, it quietly bypassed the bustling city center and drove into a secluded courtyard house in the western suburbs, nestled against the mountains and beside the water, and tightly concealed by high walls and dense pine forests.

This is Lin Yang's private villa, which he uses for top-secret meetings and closed-door strategic planning. Within a three-kilometer radius, it is heavily guarded by sentries from the Central Security Bureau.

The Hongqi sedan came to a smooth stop on the bluestone slabs of the courtyard.

Chen Feng had already stood like a black iron tower at the foot of the steps of the main house.

Seeing Zhao Lichun climb out of the car, Chen Feng's face, as hard as a rock, remained expressionless. He merely glanced at Zhao Lichun coldly, his eyes revealing an indifference born of countless trials and tribulations.

"Wait outside. Without the chairman's order, no one is allowed to approach within ten meters of the main building," Chen Feng whispered to Shen Yan.

Shen Yan nodded and stopped walking.

Chen Feng turned his head, looked at the trembling Zhao Lichun, and slightly raised his chin.

"Go in. The president is waiting for you in the study."

Zhao Lichun swallowed a mouthful of dry saliva.

Looking at the two tightly closed, heavy mahogany carved doors, he felt as if he were standing at the entrance to the underworld.

He took a deep breath, dragging his heavy legs, which felt as if they were filled with lead, and climbed the steps one by one.

With trembling hands, I gently pushed open the half-closed wooden door.

There was a creaking sound.

A rich sandalwood aroma, mixed with the subtle bitterness of premium Da Hong Pao tea, wafts towards you.

The study was spacious and rustic, but the light was not bright.

The surrounding walls were covered with various complex national economic trend maps, heavy industry capacity distribution maps, and top-secret military transportation network maps.

And in front of the huge rosewood painting table in the very center of the study.

Lin Yang was standing there with his back to the door, his posture ramrod straight.

He was wearing a thin, dark gray cashmere sweater with the cuffs rolled up to his forearms. In his hand, he held a clean white silk cloth and was meticulously wiping an old brass military compass.

His movements were steady and powerful, as if all the noise from the outside world could not disturb his tranquility at this moment.

Hearing the door open, Lin Yang did not turn around.

He continued to meticulously polish the brass object in his hand, a symbol of direction and iron will.

Zhao Lichun stood at the door, looking at that broad, insurmountable figure, and tears welled up in her eyes again like a flood bursting its banks.

All her psychological defenses, all her grievances, fears, and regrets, completely crumbled the moment she saw this man.

He knew all too well that the years he had endured in the local history office, suffering a living hell, were entirely his own fault. If he hadn't been blinded by the power of the Handong region back then, and hadn't attempted to establish his own independent kingdom, he would still be this man's most prestigious and powerful minister.

"thump!"

A dull, crisp bang exploded in the quiet study.

Zhao Lichun slammed his knees hard onto the hard blue brick floor.

He didn't hold back at all this time. The excruciating pain of his kneecap hitting the ground instantly spread throughout his body, but he didn't even flinch.

He was like an old dog that had been abandoned for a long time and finally saw its owner again, lying on the cold ground and crying uncontrollably.

"President! I was wrong! Lichun truly knows she was wrong!"

Zhao Lichun's voice was harsh and hoarse, carrying a heart-wrenching regret, echoing in the spacious study.

"These past few years, sitting on the sidelines in the local history office, I've been reflecting on myself every day, slapping myself in the face every day! Back in Handong, I was blinded by flattery and led astray by the unchecked power I held!"