Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

"Ouch! Don't hit my face! I'm Zhang Dabiao's third uncle... Ouch!"

Yan Bugui was pushed down into the vegetable garden.

The fanatical students didn't care about this "Third Uncle" at all; fists and feet rained down on him. Rotten vegetable leaves and freshly turned-up black mud were smeared all over Yan Bugui's head and face.

"You dare hit Comrade Zhang Dabiao's hand! I'll stomp you to death!"

"You dare persecute artistic pioneers!"

The scene was extremely tragic.

Yan Bugui rolled around in the mud, clutching his head, his screams echoing through the vegetable garden like a pig being slaughtered.

That was awful...

------------

As evening fell, the sky was ablaze with crimson clouds.

On the bluestone-paved road of Nanluoguxiang, Yan Jiecheng pulled a borrowed cart, huffing and puffing as he walked towards courtyard number 95.

A person was lying on the cart, covered with a tattered burlap sack. His head was swollen like a purple radish, his eye sockets were dark, and half of his front tooth was knocked out.

It was Yan Bugui.

Just as I entered the courtyard, the third aunt came out carrying a basin of water. When she saw the person on the cart, she smashed the basin on the ground with a "bang".

"Old man! You've been attacked by bandits!"

That shout woke up everyone in the front, middle, and back yards.

Liu Haizhong, his belly protruding, walked over and, seeing Yan Bugui's miserable state, clicked his tongue and asked, "Jiecheng, what happened to your dad? Did he get hit by a truck?"

Yi Zhonghai rushed over immediately: "Jie Cheng, why aren't you getting him to the hospital right away?"

Silly Pillar God added insult to injury: "Wasn't the doctor at the hospital saying he was going to die? That's why you dragged him back?"

Yan Bugui, who had initially intended to feign helplessness, immediately retorted, "You're the one who's pathetic! Sha Zhu, can't you even speak properly?"

But then the wound on her mouth was pulled, and she covered her mouth and started groaning and moaning.

Seeing his father like this, Yan Jiecheng blushed with embarrassment and wished he could disappear into the ground.

"Don't even mention it!" Yan Jiecheng gritted his teeth and lowered his voice.

"He was bragging in the school's vegetable garden, saying that he had once hit Zhang Dabiao's hand to teach him a lesson, and as a result, he was pinned down in the mud and beaten up by Zhang Dabiao's students and fans!"

Upon hearing this, everyone in the hospital gasped in shock.

Sha Zhu stood beside the pillar, touching his arm that Zhang Dabiao had once broken, and cold sweat broke out down his back.

Liu Haizhong was so frightened that he trembled and quickly took two steps back, afraid of being tainted by bad luck.

Who would dare to mess with Zhang Dabiao now?

They don't even need to lift a finger; their fanatical followers outside could tear them apart! Zhang Dabiao is now a living ancestor worshipped in the courtyard!

Just then, the door to the east courtyard creaked open.

Zhang Dabiao went out to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy some things. He glanced at Yan Bugui, who was groaning on the cart, and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh my, Teacher Yan, your look is quite unique!"

"What happened? Why were they hit so hard?"

"Have you called the police?"

Xu Damao quickly recounted what he had just heard, and Zhang Dabiao laughed when he learned that Yan Bugui had shot himself in the foot.

Why are you acting like such a big shot at this time? Aren't you just asking for a beating?

Yan Jiecheng wiped the sweat from his face, looking at Zhang Dabiao's ambiguous smile, feeling so embarrassed that he could dig a three-bedroom apartment out of the sole of his shoe.

"Da Biao, stop making fun of my dad." Yan Jiecheng sighed.

"Call the police? How? Those students are all like they've been injected with adrenaline, there are at least twenty of them. Who can the police arrest? There are too many of them to punish."

"Besides, it was his own words... He insisted on bragging that he hit your hand. Now you're a great artist, hitting your hand would be tantamount to destroying your life's art. The fact that they didn't beat him to death on the spot as if he were a spy is already a sign of mercy."

Yan Jiecheng shook his head helplessly. He understood his father's feelings, but he also had to be mindful of the occasion.

You were transferred to the vegetable garden at school because you slapped Zhang Dabiao's hand. Don't you know how unpopular you are?

Why bring up old issues again?

Isn't this just asking for a beating?

Yan Bugui lay on the cart, his eyes swollen shut, struggling to open them. He squeezed out a few words through his gaping teeth: "Da Biao...you...you have to be my witness...I was...I was doing it for your own good..."

Zhang Dabiao chuckled: "No way, I don't need that kind of 'for my own good' approach."

"So many people at school saw you hit my hand back then, and you almost got expelled because of it. Now you're saying you're doing it for my own good?"

"Teacher Yan, you were using my name to brag outside, and then the students saw through you. You deserved to get a beating."

Zhang Dabiao didn't give him any face at all.

The neighbors around him burst into laughter. Yan Bugui had indeed brought this upon himself.

Zhang Dabiao's smile faded, and he said in a low but firm voice, "While everyone is here, I'll make things clear today."

"I, Zhang Dabiao, draw comic strips in response to the national call; they are for the common people to read."

"But if anyone goes around using my name to swindle and cheat, or brags and talks nonsense to others and causes trouble, don't blame me, Zhang Dabiao, for turning my back on them."

"Teacher Yan is a living example today. It's windy outside, don't bite off more than you can chew. If something really happens, not only will I not protect you, I'll also kick you while you're down and report you to the police station for fraud. Do you understand?"

The courtyard was quiet, and everyone was wondering if Da Biao had exaggerated a bit.

However, Liu Haizhong was the first to react, nodding repeatedly: "Da Biao is right! The situation outside is complicated right now, and our institute absolutely cannot allow that kind of crooked practice of using someone else's name to justify something else! Old Yan's lack of awareness this time is his own fault!"

Xu Damao chimed in, "That's right, Uncle San, you've really lost your mind this time. Da Biao's ability to paint has absolutely nothing to do with you. You're just trying to pull a fast one on him and claim a connection. That's going too far."

Yan Bugui was so angry that he trembled all over and couldn't say a word.

Yan Jiecheng shook his head and quickly pushed the cart towards his house: "Let's all go home, let's all go home. I'm taking my dad to get some medicine."

Zhang Dabiao ignored them, turned around and left the courtyard, strolling towards the supply and marketing cooperative.

Along the way, anyone who knew him greeted him warmly from a great distance.

"Da Biao, going out to buy something?"

"Comrade Da Biao, your comic books are amazing! My son sleeps with them every night!"

"Da Biao, these are freshly roasted sweet potatoes, please have a taste..."

Zhang Dabiao responded with a smile, offering money when appropriate and declining when necessary, never taking advantage of anyone. These days, reputation is a double-edged sword; the higher one's profile, the harder one is to fall. What he wanted was a tangible shield, not a hollow reputation that put him on the spot.

Even if you create a phenomenal work in the future, you'll be rich, but generally you won't be as famous as those actors. You'll just be another face in the crowd when you walk down the street.

But these days, if you create a phenomenal masterpiece—that's really something. Zhang Dabiao was made a little socially awkward by the enthusiasm of his neighbors—mainly because he didn't know many of them, and they all greeted him with smiles, which was too enthusiastic, but Dabiao couldn't ignore them.

so awkward.

At the supply and marketing cooperative, he bought several canned goods, a few kilograms of fruit candy, and some salted duck eggs, among other groceries. The saleswoman insisted on giving him an extra two ounces of fruit candy, but Zhang Dabiao forcefully refused.

Are you trying to make me make a mistake?

There are always treacherous subjects trying to harm me!

After buying his things, Zhang Dabiao strolled back to the courtyard, but as soon as he entered, he ran into an acquaintance.

An Hong, I miss you!

Reporter An Hong is here again.