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

Zhang Dabiao disagreed, but still nodded.

"This money is all clean; it comes from my painting and design licensing fees, as well as the money I earned working for the foreign trade department. You can accept it without worry."

Director Wang clutched his chest, panting heavily, and shoved the deposit slips back into Zhang Dabiao's hand.

"No! I absolutely cannot accept this money!"

"Why?" Zhang Dabiao was stunned.

Director Wang walked to the door, locked the office door from the inside, and lowered his voice.

"Da Biao, are you out of your mind! How old are you? Eighteen! A student who hasn't even graduated yet, donating 100,000 yuan in one go!"

"Where do you think you're putting the Red Star Steel Rolling Mill, a factory with tens of thousands of employees, to save face? What do you think the district leaders will think? This isn't a donation; you're destroying everyone's livelihoods and jobs!"

Zhang Dabiao frowned. He had only thought about contributing his efforts and had indeed overlooked the political climate of this era.

The wood show will be destroyed by the forest wind.

Director Wang spoke earnestly and patiently.

"If you organize a mutual aid group and distribute some food, that's called self-reliance."

"In 61, you took out 10 yuan in remittance certificates. Those were a reward from the government when you converted foreign exchange. You got them for free. You benefited from the policy, so no one said anything when you took them out."

"Some people above said that you shouldn't have taken so many remittance certificates, and you also donated the post office's prize savings, so the matter was put to rest."

"But if you take out 100,000 yuan from your savings now, people will investigate where you got the money. I know your money is clean, but how long has it been since the Five Anti-Corruption Campaign?"

"You're being investigated by higher-ups every day, can you handle it?"

Zhang Dabiao fell silent.

Ninety percent of the time, they won't find anything wrong, but there's still a ten percent chance—he relied on Director Wang, Old Jin, the teahouse in Lishuiqiao Village, and Qinjiatun and Zhangjiatun, including Master Lei and others, to exchange grain remittance certificates for antiques and collectibles, including small yellow croakers...

Even if we were to investigate, it would be difficult to say for sure.

"Go back! Donating a hundred yuan is the most you can do!" Director Wang gave a firm order.

Zhang Dabiao had no choice but to donate only 100 yuan.

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

After leaving the neighborhood office, Zhang Dabiao went to the school again.

After listening to Zhang Dabiao's idea in the office, Zhou Muye reacted even more strongly than Director Wang, and almost threw his drawing board at him.

"Are you crazy?! So many veteran artists in the art world only donate a few dozen yuan. Are you trying to offend all your peers by making a scene like this?"

In the end, Zhang Dabiao could only reluctantly donate 100 yuan to the neighborhood office and another 100 yuan to the school.

Even so, the huge donation of two hundred yuan still caused quite a stir in the surrounding area.

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

As September arrives, the early autumn winds dispel the sweltering heat of midsummer.

A nationwide campaign was launched – “Learn from Daqing in Industry”.

Red flags fluttered and banners hung high in the auditorium of Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill.

Factory Director Yang stood in front of the microphone, reading a long, detailed report on his experience. The workers below sat ramrod straight, clapping enthusiastically even if they couldn't understand a word.

Today, Yi Zhonghai was wearing a clean, faded work uniform with a big red flower on his chest, and he sat in the first row.

Because he mentored five apprentices at the seventh level and successfully passed the exam to become an eighth-level worker himself, Yi Zhonghai was established as a model of "passing on skills and knowledge" in the factory.

"Next, please welcome Comrade Yi Zhonghai, a representative of outstanding veteran workers, to the stage to speak!" Director Yang led the applause.

Yi Zhonghai walked onto the stage with a ruddy complexion and cleared his throat.

"Fellow leaders and fellow workers, when we're engaged in production, we must carry forward the Iron Man spirit of Daqing! We'd rather live twenty years less, but we must fight to the death to take down this great oil field..."

Below, Xu Damao and Shazhu sat together.

Xu Damao pursed his lips.

"Look at how smug he is. He acted like a dead dog when he was demoted, but he's only been back on his feet for a few days and he's already wagging his tail like it's flying."

Sha Zhu was unhappy.

"Xu Damao, shut up. That old man is really skilled, an eighth-grade worker, there are only three of them in our factory! What do you, a movie projectionist, know?"

Xu Damao sneered, too lazy to bother with this idiot.

The back row of bangs was so tight that the back molars were practically grinding to pieces.

He practiced in the workshop every day to pass the Level 8 worker exam, but he still failed. Now, seeing his old rival Yi Zhonghai shining on stage, he couldn't suppress the anger in his heart.

After the meeting, we returned to the forging workshop.

Liu Haizhong walked up to his apprentices with his hands behind his back and his belly sticking out.

"Look at all of you, so lazy and unambitious! Is this what you call learning from Daqing? Is this what you call the spirit of the Iron Man?!"

"Starting today, everyone's workload will increase by 20%! Those who fail to meet their targets will have their monthly bonus deducted!"

The apprentices dared not speak out in anger and could only keep their heads down and work.

After Liu Haizhong left, several workers huddled together, cursing and swearing.

"What kind of person is this? They're not good at cooking, so they take it out on us."

"That's right, he's gotten so used to being a big shot in the courtyard that he's developed a taste for officialdom and is treating the workshop like his own home."

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

Meanwhile, in Hong Kong, thousands of miles away...

A huge promotional poster hangs outside the entrance of an upscale English bookstore.

The poster depicts a little boy wearing round-framed glasses with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, riding a flying broom.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone is now officially available.

This book is primarily aimed at foreigners and expatriate families residing in Hong Kong.

Steiner, who was the chief editor of the book, took a copy home.

His elementary school-aged daughter was reading "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" when Steiner handed her the new book.

"Honey, look at this. A friend of Daddy wrote it."

The little girl casually turned to the first page.

Ten minutes later, the little girl was completely engrossed.

An hour later, she ignored me when I called her to eat.

"Daddy, is this Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry real? Do owls really deliver messages?" The little girl excitedly tugged at Steiner's sleeve.

Steiner keenly sensed the magic of this book.

In just three days, the first print run of 10,000 copies sold out. All the expatriate families in Hong Kong were talking about the little boy who lived in the closet.

The bookstore is urging us to reprint it every day.

Unable to contain his excitement, Steiner dialed Mixue Ice Cream directly and found the owner, Zhang Yaoyang.

"Zhang! You're a genius! This work will definitely cause a sensation abroad! I'm preparing to launch it in the European market!" Steiner's voice on the other end of the phone was deafening.

Cheung Yiu-yeung leaned against the counter and lit a cigarette.

"What's the rush? Sell them slowly. If the first one is a hit, there are six more to come. That's called a steady stream of sales."

After hanging up the phone, Jin Youwu came over with two other bills.

"Boss, the physical copies of 'A Deadly Secret' and 'Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils' are selling like hotcakes. All the major bookstores are restocking. The royalties have already exceeded HK$200,000."

Cheung Yiu-yeung exhaled a smoke ring.

"Deposit the money directly into HSBC, don't be too flashy."

Jin Youwu was a little confused: "Boss, why not deposit it in a trust commercial bank? Many of these small banks offer very high interest rates, like 10%."

"You now have a total of 13 million in savings. If you put that in there, you'd make a net profit of 130 a year!"

"A net profit!"