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

Zhang Dabiao pressed on, "Come on, explain yourself! What right do you have to decide who gets to use my things?"

Zhao Weiguo, Liu Yuanchao, Zhu Hongqi, and two little girls following him shook their heads frantically.

He took a large step forward, almost touching Yang Yibai's face, and shouted, enunciating each word clearly, "I'm putting my cards on the table today! My things are mine, I can give them to whomever I want! Who's suitable and who's not, that's my business!"

"You can take what I give you; you can't take it from me if I don't give it to you!"

After saying that, he suddenly raised his chin and pointed in the direction of the courtyard gate, his voice so cold it sounded like ice shards could fall from the sky.

"Get the hell out of here right now!"

As soon as the word "get out" was uttered, Zhao Weiguo and Liu Yuanchao felt as if they had been granted a pardon.

They no longer cared about the difference between men and women, or about manners and propriety. Each of them took one side of Yang Yibai, who was already disoriented and like a puppet, and dragged her out of the courtyard.

Yang Yibai was dragged to the doorway, seemingly only just recovering from the shock of that piercing question. She whirled around, her beautiful face contorted with extreme anger and humiliation, and screamed, "Zhang Dabiao! You just wait! I... I will never let you get away with this!"

The voice was sharp, hoarse, and filled with resentment and bitterness.

However, Zhang Dabiao didn't even bother to lift his eyelids.

He turned around, gently patted Mu Wanqing's cold hand behind him, and then, facing Yang Yibai's back, lightly uttered six words.

"A bitch is just being pretentious."

These six words were like an invisible, sharpest knife, precisely piercing Yang Yibai's heart and then twisting it violently.

The harshest words she had ever heard in her life were just an elder's "nonsense." She had never heard anything like this... this vulgar, common, yet incredibly precise and biting insult.

These words seemed to drain the last bit of her strength and dignity.

Yang Yibai felt a sudden darkness before her eyes, as if a huge rock was pressing down on her chest. She couldn't catch her breath and, in the struggle between Zhao Weiguo and Liu Yuanchao, her eyes rolled back, her head lolled to the side, and she fainted from anger.

"Hey! Yibai! Yibai!"

"Quick! Pinch the philtrum! Quickly pinch the philtrum!"

"Oh no, oh no, he's fainted!"

"Take them away first, take them away first!"

The courtyard gate was instantly thrown into chaos.

Zhao Weiguo and the others were in a flurry of activity, trying to get Yang Yibai, who was as limp as a lump of mud, onto the bicycle, but they were afraid of hurting her. The group of people surrounded a bicycle, sweating profusely, and their disheveled appearance drew suppressed laughter from the neighbors watching the commotion at the alley entrance.

In the end, they fled the alley as if escaping a plague.

The east courtyard finally returned to peace.

Qin Jingru, holding a spatula, patted her still-pounding chest and leaned close to Mu Wanqing, whispering, "Wanqing, Brother Da Biao was... so scary, but so satisfying!"

Mu Wanqing did not speak.

She looked at Zhang Dabiao's broad back, her eyes filled with complex emotions. There was gratitude for being protected, the bitterness of having her deepest wounds touched, and deep worry about the terrible trouble he had caused.

She stepped forward and gently but tightly hugged him from behind, burying her face in his back. A thousand words were ultimately condensed into a silent embrace.

Zhang Dabiao could feel her body trembling slightly. He took her hand in return and whispered, "It's alright."

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

Outside the courtyard.

The elderly men from the Intermediate People's Court huddled together, their expressions increasingly grave.

Yan Bugui pushed up his glasses and lowered his voice: "This has blown up. Zhang Dabiao's words weren't just child's play; calling him a 'white dog' and a 'local tyrant' could lead to someone's death!"

Liu Haizhong, unusually, didn't put on airs like an old man. He nodded with a stern face: "Those kids will definitely not let this go when they get back. This is no longer just about Zhang Dabiao and that girl; this is... this is a matter between two different people."

Yi Zhonghai stood with his hands behind his back at his front door, gazing towards the east courtyard with an unreadable expression. He was thinking to himself that it would be best for him to stay away from this turmoil and not get involved in Zhang Dabiao's affairs.

On the way, Zhao Weiguo and others escorted Yang Yibai back to the compound.

They brought this loss upon themselves.

But they also knew that this matter was far from over.

Zhang Dabiao's probing question, "What's the difference between you and a white dog?" lingered like a sinister curse in everyone's minds.

This is no longer a children's fight.

This is a sudden storm of evidence and treatment.

And they, and their families, have inevitably been drawn into the eye of the storm.

Because Yang Yibai would absolutely not let this go.

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

The next day.

The morning sun was lovely, lazily shining on the grapevines in the east courtyard, the dewdrops on the leaves glistening.

People haven't left for work yet. In the summer mornings, it gets light early, and everyone is either making breakfast or has just gotten up.

The air was filled with the aroma of millet porridge that Qin Jingru had just cooked. It was sweet and mixed with the earthy smell of freshly turned vegetable garden soil, making people feel comfortable.

"Squeak—"

A sudden, forceful screech of bicycle brakes broke the tranquility of the courtyard at the alley entrance.

Immediately afterwards, a tall and imposing figure pushed a brand-new 28-inch bicycle to a stop outside the fence gate of the east courtyard.

"Hey bro, who are you looking for?"

Uncle Yan Bugui was strolling around the courtyard with a large tea mug in his hand when he saw a stranger and immediately went over to him.

The man was about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, wearing a brand-new blue work uniform, like the uniform of a security department of some unit. It was ironed very neatly, with creases on the collar and cuffs.

He was very tall, standing like a small white poplar tree, with a bronze complexion from being tanned under the sun, exuding a sharp and capable air.

This person isn't exceptionally good-looking, but has regular features, especially his eyes, which are clear and calm, making him seem reliable.

He had a net bag hanging on his handlebars, containing two cans of fruit and a bag of Daoxiangcun pastries. In his left hand, he was holding a large, lively carp with a straw rope, its tail still splashing water droplets.

"Hello, sir," the man said with a friendly smile, offering a Daqianmen cigarette. "I'm looking for Comrade Zhang Dabiao."

Yan Bugui's eyes lit up. He casually took the cigarette and tucked it behind his ear, then enthusiastically pointed inside: "Oh! Looking for Da Biao? He's here! I'll lead you in!"

As he spoke, he reached out to take the large carp, saying politely, "Oh, you've come all this way, don't bring anything, you're too kind..."

"I wouldn't dare trouble you, sir." Yang Weihong deftly dodged Yan Bugui's hand with a flick of her wrist and said with a smile, "I can do it myself."

Yan Bugui missed his chance and felt a little embarrassed, but seeing that the other party was still smiling politely, he couldn't make a scene. He could only cough twice and follow beside him.

"Comrade, who are you looking for? Is there something you need?"

Qin Jingru was carrying a basin of water for washing her face when she saw the stranger at the gate and immediately stopped in her tracks.

Yang Weihong gave the little girl a slight bow, her smile exceptionally sincere: "Hello, young comrade. I'm looking for Comrade Zhang Dabiao. I'm Yang Yibai's brother—"

"Yang Weihong".