Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

Another week has passed quickly, and the agreed delivery date with Lou Bancheng has arrived.

The agreed-upon location was a secluded bend in a tributary of the Yongding River, far from any village.

The early spring nights were still bitterly cold, and remnants of ice that had not yet melted floated on the river.

Zhao Ping'an stood behind a clump of reeds that were about waist-high, wrapped in an ordinary old cotton-padded coat.

His eyes, however, sharply scanned the open mudflats ahead and the shadowy trees on the opposite bank.

Behind him were thirty carefully selected soldiers, all dressed in dark uniforms without any markings, lying quietly in the shadows of the riverbank.

Dazhu was behind him, holding a Czech light machine gun fully loaded with bullets, his fingers lightly resting on the guard.

Further away, Zhao Dongliang personally led another team to control the upstream pass, while Zhao Desheng's men blocked the downstream passage.

This was a location they had carefully chosen, and it was the first time they had conducted such a large-scale and sensitive "goods" transaction.

The agreed time is approaching.

Several blurry dark figures appeared at the edge of the woods on the opposite bank. Soon, more figures silently slipped out of the woods and spread out on the mudflats, taking up positions behind several natural embankments and rocks.

There was no firelight, no conversation, only a disciplined silence and vigilance. The other side seemed to have a considerable number of people, and their movements were clean and efficient.

Zhao Pingan exhaled a soft breath and whispered to Liu Dazhu beside him, "Send the signal."

Liu Dazhu took out a flashlight covered with a red cloth from his pocket and flashed it three times rhythmically towards the opposite bank of the river.

A moment later, the opposite bank responded with three flashes of red light, faint and brief.

The transaction has begun.

Zhao Pingan waved his hand, and ten soldiers behind him, each carefully carrying a small but well-sealed wooden box, silently and quickly walked down the riverbank.

Arriving at a relatively flat open space in the middle of the mudflats, we neatly stacked the boxes.

They then quickly retreated, leaving only Zhao Ping'an and four guards behind.

Almost simultaneously, a small group of people emerged from the opposite bank, carrying several boxes that looked even heavier, and placed them on the other side of the open space.

The leader was a man of medium build, wearing a thick cotton hat that covered most of his face.

He was followed by two people who looked like "technicians," carrying small flashlights and tools.

The two sides stood about ten meters apart in the open space.

The moonlight was cool and clear enough to make out each other's outlines, but not their specific faces.

The person wearing the cotton hat slightly raised their chin.

The two technicians behind him immediately stepped forward and walked to the wooden crate that Zhao Ping'an had placed there.

One of them pulled out a specially made crowbar and skillfully pried open the seal of the first box.

The flashlight beam focused—inside were neatly stacked cardboard boxes. Opening the boxes revealed rows of small glass vials sealed with wax, each containing white powder.

The labels are all in foreign languages, but they are well preserved.

The two technicians visibly gasped for breath.

They carefully and randomly selected a few bottles, used a flashlight to examine the powder's state, opened the caps to smell it, and even used a magnifying glass to inspect the bottles and seals.

The entire process was swift, professional, and meticulous.

After inspecting the first box, they exchanged a glance, nodded almost imperceptibly, and then quickly checked the other wooden boxes.

The man in the cotton hat stood quietly, his gaze seemingly sweeping over the goods and over Zhao Ping'an and the soldiers not far behind him.

Although he couldn't see the eyes clearly, Zhao Ping'an could sense the scrutiny and assessment in their gaze.

—This applies not only to the goods, but also to the quality of their "transportation team" itself.

After the technician finished his inspection, he returned to the person wearing the cotton hat and whispered a few words quickly.

The man in the cotton hat nodded slightly, took a few steps forward, and stopped between the two goods. He raised his hand and made a gesture.

The people behind him immediately pushed the boxes they had brought forward.

On Zhao Ping'an's side, Liu Dazhu also led his men forward and pushed ten medicine boxes over.

There wasn't a single wasted word, no empty pleasantries.

The two sides acted almost simultaneously, quickly and cautiously exchanging the positions of the goods.

Zhao Ping'an's men lifted the box the other party had brought—it was extremely heavy. Upon opening it, they found it contained gold.

They quickly retreated back to the riverbank. The other side also swiftly carried up the ten medicine boxes and retreated to the opposite bank.

The whole process took no more than five or six minutes. The mudflats were empty again, leaving only trampled snow and mud.

The man in the cotton hat glanced one last time in Zhao Ping'an's direction, seemed to nod slightly, and then turned around without hesitation, leading his men and goods, quickly disappearing into the shadows of the woods on the opposite bank, vanishing without a trace.

The river breeze blows, the reeds sway, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Withdraw!" Zhao Ping'an shouted in a low voice. Everyone immediately followed the predetermined route, taking turns to cover each other, and silently withdrew from the riverbank.

Only after walking several miles and returning to a pre-arranged transfer point did the group breathe a slight sigh of relief, but they remained highly vigilant.

Upon opening the box again, the golden light shone almost blindingly in the torchlight. Inside were one hundred and twenty large yellow croakers, not one missing.

"My goodness..." Dazhu, who was standing next to Zhao Ping'an, couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice.

Zhao Ping'an remained calm as he carefully examined the gold bars for their purity and markings, confirming that they were genuine.

He felt little joy, but rather a heavy heart.

The deal is done, but the real test may have just begun.

The professionalism, caution, and hidden strength displayed by the other party further convinced him of his judgment.

These weren't ordinary black market buyers; they were our own army. Thinking this, Zhao Ping'an couldn't help but suppress his excitement.

Take it slow, no rush. We need to build trust gradually. It's not too late to start a rebellion later!

For the next few days, everything at the camp proceeded as usual.

The recruit training was in full swing, and Zhao Desheng carefully selected dozens more to join the ranks.

Zhao Ping'an also saw some familiar figures, including four of the eight young men he had rescued that day.

There were also some strong young men from nearby villages, which made Zhao Ping'an even more convinced of his decisiveness in taking action earlier.

At the same time, Zhao Ping'an converted most of the gold into system currency.

The enormous sum almost made Zhao Ping'an immediately redeem his target—the complete set of equipment and materials for that steel plant with an annual output of 80 tons.

But Zhao Ping'an suppressed his excitement; the system items could be redeemed at any time.

However, exchanging for what I want now doesn't bring me any direct benefit. It would be better to first purchase weapons, ammunition, food, and uniforms to strengthen my forces.

It's not too late to exchange for steel after the uprising.

With this in mind, Zhao Ping'an exchanged for a large batch of weapons, especially light and heavy machine guns and ammunition. Now that he had offended the elite troops, he needed to strengthen himself even more!

Unexpectedly, the Lou family steward has come again.