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

The entire city of Beijing instantly erupted in excitement!

The sounds of firecrackers, cheers, and the beating of gongs and drums converged from all directions, resounding through the sky.

In the courtyard house.

Liu Haizhong was so excited that tears streamed down his face. He stood in the middle of the yard, waving his fists and shouting.

For the first time ever, Yan Bugui took out half a bottle of Erguotou that he had treasured at home for half a year and asked Shazhu and Xu Damao to have a drink with him.

In Zhang Dabiao's east courtyard, Qin Jingru jumped and danced excitedly, while Mu Wanqing and He Yushui's eyes were also red.

This mushroom bomb holds immense significance for the Chinese people.

Zhang Dabiao leaned back in his deck chair, watching the fireworks bloom in the night sky, and let out a long sigh of relief.

Both prophecies came true.

Nine o'clock in the evening.

The crowd in the courtyard gradually dispersed, and everyone went back to their rooms to sleep, but the lingering excitement still hung in the air.

Zhang Dabiao was preparing to go to the gate of the Guandong courtyard.

"Knock knock knock".

Three very rhythmic knocks sounded on the door.

Zhang Dabiao paused for a moment, then opened the courtyard gate.

Outside the door stood two men dressed in sharp Zhongshan suits. In the dim light, Zhang Dabiao recognized them.

These were the two leaders from the "special department" who had come to investigate his predictions earlier.

The middle-aged man standing in front looked at Zhang Dabiao with a meaningful smile on his face.

"Comrade Zhang, we're here again."

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

The little dog Erhei suddenly darted out, baring its teeth at the door and letting out a low growl.

"Get out of here." Zhang Dabiao frowned and raised his leg to give a feint kick.

Erhei whimpered and tucked its tail between its legs back into its kennel.

Zhang Dabiao then turned to look outside the door. Two men in sharp Zhongshan suits stood in the night wind, their hats pulled low.

"Come in and speak."

Zhang Dabiao stepped aside and let the two into the house. He then bolted the door shut and drew the curtains tightly shut.

The main lights weren't on; only a table lamp was lit. Its dim, yellowish light cast a shadow on the table, creating a somewhat oppressive atmosphere.

Zhang Dabiao picked up the thermos with his left hand and poured tea for the two of them.

"Comrade Zhang," the slightly older middle-aged man said, without touching his teacup, his hands resting on his knees, "both of the things you mentioned earlier are correct."

Zhang Dabiao pulled up a chair and sat down, without saying a word.

The middle-aged man continued, "We've received your previous report. However, currently only the two most senior leaders are aware of this matter."

"These things are not convenient to spread."

Zhang Dabiao nodded. It couldn't be spread. If it got out, someone would come and interrogate him about domestic politics, leaders, and even his lifespan...

Should he tell or not?

Therefore, when it comes to domestic matters, apart from natural disasters, he can't say anything.

The older leader paused, tapping his fingers lightly on the table: "The higher-ups' opinion is very clear. We are staunch materialists; the development and policies of the country cannot be determined by prophecy. Therefore, this matter cannot be spread within high-level circles."

Zhang Dabiao secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

If word gets out there, what will I be called? A fortune teller? A national advisor? That's not a good reputation. I might get dissected and studied one day.

"Don't worry, leader, I'm a staunch materialist! This is something only heaven, earth, you, and I know." Zhang Dabiao patted his chest, which aggravated the wound on his right arm, causing him to gasp in pain.

The middle-aged man's expression remained serious, even tinged with sternness: "Comrade Zhang, you must understand the gravity of this matter. Not a single word of your previous predictions is to be leaked outside!"

"Especially regarding the disintegration of the Russian bear, you should know what the consequences will be once the news gets out."

"I understand." Zhang Dabiao nodded vigorously. "I would rather die than utter a single word."

The middle-aged man looked into Zhang Dabiao's eyes, and after a long while, his tense expression eased slightly.

"We're here today for two main reasons."

He turned to look at his young companion beside him. The companion immediately took out a long, rectangular mahogany box from his briefcase and handed it to him with both hands.

"The first thing I'll do is send you a calligraphy piece."

Zhang Dabiao was stunned, unsure whether to accept it with his left hand or not.

The middle-aged man opened the wooden box with his own hands, took out a framed scroll of calligraphy, and slowly unfurled it on the table.

On the snow-white Xuan paper, seven large characters are written with strong, powerful strokes that seem to penetrate the paper.

"Da Biao is a good comrade."

There was no signature or seal.

But the moment Zhang Dabiao saw the words, his pupils contracted sharply, and he jumped up from his chair as if struck by lightning.

This font! This spirit that seems to encompass heaven and earth!

This is someone's handwriting!

Zhang Dabiao felt his head buzzing and his breathing became rapid.

Seeing Zhang Dabiao's reaction, the middle-aged man smiled and nodded: "You recognized him."

Zhang Dabiao nodded, swallowed hard, and felt his throat was parched. Who would personally write for him? How many people in Beijing could receive such treatment?

He cautiously extended his left hand, touched the edge of the Xuan paper, and then withdrew it as if he had been electrocuted.

"My goodness..." Zhang Dabiao took a deep breath and blurted out, "I need to get the best rosewood frame, the thickest glass, and a big lock! This thing will be the Zhang family heirloom from now on!"

The two leaders exchanged a glance, their tense nerves relaxing as they couldn't help but chuckle.

"Comrade Zhang, please keep this note safe. Now, let's talk about the second matter."

The middle-aged man's smile gradually faded, replaced by an extremely complex solemnity.

"The second thing is that I've come to say goodbye."

Zhang Dabiao's smile froze.

"bid farewell?"

"Yes." The middle-aged man stood up, straightened his Zhongshan suit, and said, "Because we know what you've said, it's no longer appropriate for the two of us to continue working in the lake."

Zhang Dabiao's heart sank.

The middle-aged man looked at Zhang Dabiao, his tone as calm as if he were discussing tomorrow's weather: "I'm taking the train early tomorrow morning to the northern border. From now on, I'll be settling down there, keeping a close eye on what the Russians are doing."

The young colleague, who had been silent until now, also stood up, his voice steady: "I'm reporting to the Tangshan Materials Bureau tomorrow. I'll be specifically responsible for earthquake resistance research on building structures, post-disaster reconstruction preparations, as well as material reserves and transportation allocation. This is preparation for a rainy day."

Zhang Dabiao was completely stunned.

He understood everything.

While those in power verbally claim that "national policies cannot be determined by prophecy," in reality, they value it more than anyone else.

In order to keep the secret and to prepare for possible disasters, these two people voluntarily gave up their promising futures in the central government and sent themselves to the most difficult and dangerous places.

Going to the border to keep an eye on the Russian bear is like risking your life.

Going to Tangshan to conduct earthquake resistance research is like racing against death.

The room was eerily quiet.

Zhang Dabiao slowly straightened up. His right arm was in a cast and sling around his neck, making it impossible for him to lift it.

He gritted his teeth, and with his intact left hand, he brought his five fingers together, raised it to eyebrow level, and solemnly gave a military salute.

"Thank you for your hard work, leaders."