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

To be in charge of the welfare and legacy of heavy industry workers nationwide! For an old worker who had dedicated his entire life to the factory, this was the highest honor imaginable!

"Yoko...I...can I do it well?"

Lin Fan's voice was choked with sobs, and he could barely speak.

"No one in this world understands the hardships of those working-class people better than you. If you can't do it well, who can?"

Lin Yang smiled slightly and picked up the cup of tea in front of him, which had already gone cold.

"Tomorrow, I'll have all your connections transferred back to the city. Your sister-in-law can also return to the affiliated hospital as a relaxed vice president. Our Lin family's ship has sailed through the waves for so many years; it's time for you, the ballast stone, to return to the harbor and enjoy a peaceful retirement."

The night was deep and all was quiet.

The pine trees on Yuquan Mountain rustled in the night breeze.

With red eyes, Lin Fan carefully put the transfer order away from his body, turned around and walked out of the restaurant. Although his steps were a little unsteady, his back view showed a sense of complete relief after unloading a heavy burden.

Lin Yang was the only one left in the huge restaurant.

The air was filled with the aroma of food and the lingering scent of strong liquor.

Lin Yang sat quietly in the rosewood armchair.

He stared at the empty round table and the empty chairs where Lin Weidong and Lin Jianguo had just sat, his deep eyes reflecting a bottomless galaxy.

The overall strategy has been established, and the pieces have been placed.

The sharp knife of politics pierces the rotten flesh at the very bottom, while the hungry wolf of commerce pounces on the bloodiest market.

The foundation laid by the older generation has been settled and matured in the most stable way.

Lin Yang slowly stood up.

He walked to a mahogany table to the side. There lay a huge, confidential map marked with the red lines of the national economic development strategy.

Lin Yang extended his right hand, which had distinct knuckles and was full of strength.

He picked up a sharpened red and blue pencil that was placed next to the map.

Without any hesitation, Lin Yang's gaze locked onto the two key nodes on the map that represented the Southern Special Zone and the Central Plains.

With a flick of the wrist, the red and blue pencils made a loud "scratching" sound as they rubbed against the rough paper.

He drew two bright red circles heavily on the locations of Lin Weidong's upcoming destination, Lin Nan County, and the Southern Special Economic Zone where Lin Jianguo was about to start his business.

Then, Lin Yang flipped his wrist, and with a crisp "snap," the red and blue pencil was snapped in two with one hand!

He tossed the broken pencil onto the map and turned off the desk lamp in the study.

His entire figure instantly merged into the deep darkness that was capable of swallowing everything.

················

In the late autumn of 1985, a fine layer of frost had already gathered in the wind of Beijing.

Fallen leaves twirl along the wide streets as this ancient capital, brimming with a frenzied vitality, undergoes a rapid and astonishing transformation.

The once ubiquitous military green and navy blue have now been replaced by a variety of colorful suits, trench coats, and wool coats.

But the world's hustle and bustle seems forever unable to penetrate the thick, high walls of that top-secret villa in the Western Hills.

Today is Lin Yang's 55th birthday.

For a president who controls the macroeconomic lifeline of the entire mainland and wields the supreme power of the "Modern Reform and Development Association," fifty-five years old is the peak and golden age of a politician and strategist.

But he did not alarm any local steward, nor did he ask the General Association's office to organize any birthday banquet.

This small villa, nestled among evergreen pines and cypresses, is closed to all official visitors today. Outside the main gate, only three invisible lines of defense have been secretly established by the elite guards of the security bureau.

The kitchen was steaming hot.

Although the outside world has various high-end restaurants and overseas eateries, in Lin Yang's villa, the person in charge of cooking is still the nearly seventy-year-old man, He Daqing.

He Daqing's hair was completely white, and the age spots on his face were becoming more and more obvious. But as soon as he tied on that clean white apron and stood in front of that huge cast iron wok, he seemed to be rejuvenated. He stood up straight and held the big iron ladle as steadily as Mount Tai.

"Zhu Zi! Bring over the soaked abalone! It's almost done cooking. If you keep simmering the broth any longer, the flavor will dissipate!" He Daqing shouted loudly without turning his head.

Beside him, He Yuzhu, dressed in a smart casual outfit, quickly approached with a white porcelain basin.

Today, He Yuzhu is already a powerful official at the division level in the Special Security Division of the Central Security Bureau.

In Beijing's security system, he was a figure whose every move could shake the entire city. But in front of his father, in Lin Yang's kitchen, he was still like an obedient apprentice, honestly helping out.

"Dad, you're really quick on your feet. You look even more energetic than you did a few years ago," He Yuzhu said with a smile as he handed over the plate.

He Daqing glared at his son, wiped the sweat from his forehead with the towel draped over his shoulder, and said with barely concealed pride, "What do you know! Today is the commander's fifty-fifth birthday! This is the greatest honor for our He family! Even if it costs me my life, I will make sure this authentic Tan family cuisine is served in a grand and impressive manner! The commander has been working tirelessly for the country these past few years, and his hair has turned quite a bit gray. Today, he must have a comforting and hot meal!"

Just as the father and son were busy in the kitchen, the low thud of car tires rubbing against the ground came from the bluestone road outside the villa.

Three black sedans with license plates from different regions stopped outside the gate at almost the same time.

The car doors opened one after another.

The first person to get off the car was Zhao Lichun, the deputy general manager of economic development in the Handong region.

He wore a well-tailored black overcoat, and his gold-rimmed glasses were spotless. Time had etched deeper lines into his deep-set face, but it had also given him a profound and dignified air.

The person who got out of the second car next was Pei Yihong, Director of the Industry and Information Technology Bureau of the Hanjiang Region.

Unlike Zhao Lichun's refined elegance, Pei Yihong retained the ruggedness of an industrial powerhouse. He wore a navy blue jacket, his hair was cut very short, his eyes were as sharp as two searchlights, and he seemed to always carry the smell of gunpowder from a steel furnace.

The woman who stepped out of the third car was a radiant and powerful middle-aged woman.

Lou Xiao'e.

She was wearing a bespoke dark gray women's suit with a camel-colored cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders.

As the chairwoman of the renowned "Ocean International Trading Group," which controls hundreds of billions of dollars in capital, her every move exudes the composure and ruthlessness of a top-tier financial tycoon.

But when she raised her head and looked at the familiar gate of the villa, the cold capitalist shell in her eyes instantly melted away, revealing a hint of gentleness and awe.