Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

Section 1: Parents-in-law hear devastating news, grief and joy intertwine outside the operating room

Inside the Lou mansion, Lou Zhenhua's teacup shattered on the floor with a crash, spilling fine Longjing tea onto the expensive Persian carpet, leaving a dark brown stain. This man, known for his composure and steadiness, was now deathly pale, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, barely able to hold the telephone receiver.

"W-What did you say? Xiao'e and Huanbo were attacked? Premature birth?!" His voice suddenly rose, almost cracking. "At the military hospital? Okay, okay, I'm coming right away!"

After hanging up the phone, Lou Zhenhua's legs went weak, and he almost collapsed onto the sofa. His mind flashed back to his daughter's always gentle, smiling face, his son-in-law's calm and confident countenance, and his daughter's prominently swollen belly, carrying the hopes of both families… An enemy attack? Premature birth? This was practically the death knell for him!

"Master! What's wrong? What happened?" Madam Tan rushed downstairs and panicked when she saw her husband's state. She had never seen Lou Zhenhua so distraught.

"Quick! Prepare the car! To the General Hospital of the Military Region! Xiao'e and Huanbo have been attacked! Xiao'e is in premature labor in the hospital due to shock!" Lou Zhenhua almost shouted these words, his voice filled with unprecedented panic and anger.

Upon hearing this, Tan Lou's vision blurred, and she nearly fainted. She gripped the stair railing tightly to keep from collapsing, her lips trembling as she couldn't speak, tears already streaming down her face. As a mother, she knew all too well what premature birth meant—especially premature birth after shock and trauma! It was like walking through the gates of hell!

"What are you waiting for! Let's go!" Lou Zhenhua grabbed his wife's arm and practically dragged her outside. The housekeeper had already prepared the car, and the driver, Lao Liu, was standing beside it with a serious expression.

The black Volga sped through the streets, running countless red lights. Lou Zhenhua sat in the back seat, his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white; Tan Loushi kept wiping away tears, murmuring "May the Bodhisattva protect us." The journey that usually took forty minutes was completed in less than twenty minutes today.

At the entrance of the military region's main hospital, security was tight. Fully armed soldiers stood guard every three steps and sentries every five, their guns pointed downwards but their eyes sharp as eagles, vigilantly scanning everyone who approached. As soon as the Volga sedan came to a stop, two armed soldiers stepped forward and gestured for the windows to be rolled down.

"Comrade, we are Chief Engineer Wang Huanbo's parents-in-law! We came here specifically to visit them after hearing that our daughter and son-in-law had been attacked!" Lou Zhenhua said, trying to suppress his anxiety and speak in a calm tone.

The soldiers exchanged a glance, and one of them quickly walked to the guard post to make a phone call for instructions. A moment later, a sharp-eyed, middle-aged officer, as capable as a leopard, strode over—it was Duan Peng.

"Mr. Lou? Please show me your identification." Duan Peng's voice was crisp and clear, devoid of any emotion.

Lou Zhenhua quickly pulled out his work ID and household registration booklet to prove his identity. Duan Peng carefully checked them and nodded slightly: "Please come with me. Engineer Wang is waiting outside the operating room."

After passing through layers of security, Lou Zhenhua and Tan Loushi practically ran to the corridor where the operating room was located. From afar, Tan Loushi's cries carried: "My Xiao'e! Why are you so unfortunate!"

The cries were piercing and desperate, echoing through the silent hospital corridor, sending shivers down one's spine. Soldiers at both ends of the corridor couldn't help but glance at each other slightly, but quickly returned to their statueslike postures.

Upon hearing the crying, Wang Huanbo immediately stood up from the bench and went to greet him. The bloodstains on his body had dried, turning into dark red patches, and his face still bore traces of gunpowder soot; he looked extremely haggard.

"Dad, Mom, you're here." His voice was so hoarse that it was almost unrecognizable.

"Huanbo! How is Xiao'e? Huh? Are you alright?" Lou Zhenhua grabbed his son-in-law's arm with surprising force, his eyes filled with anxiety and fear.

Wang Huanbo took a deep breath and tried to explain the situation calmly: "I'm fine, just some minor injuries. Xiao'e showed signs of premature labor due to the shock and strenuous activity. She's currently in the operating room, receiving joint treatment from a team of experts from the Military General Hospital and the Health Bureau. The higher-ups have given a strict order to ensure the safety of Xiao'e and the baby."

"Premature birth?!" Lou Zhenhua gasped, his face turning even paler. "She's not even seven months along! Will the baby... will the baby survive? Xiao'e..."

Upon hearing the words "premature birth," Tan Loushi's legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground, wailing, "My child! Why are you so unlucky! Those damned enemy agents, may they die a horrible death!" Her cries were heart-wrenching, her hands pounding the ground incessantly. "Premature babies are so hard to raise! If anything happens to Xiao'e, I won't live either!"

Wang Huanbo quickly knelt down and, together with Lou Zhenhua, helped Tan Loushi to a bench. He understood his mother-in-law's breakdown—in this era of limited medical resources, the survival rate of seven-month premature infants was extremely low, and the probability of maternal hemorrhage and death was also considerable. As Lou Zhenhua's concubine, Tan Loushi had witnessed many tragedies in wealthy families where women died in childbirth or suffered from depression after the loss of their children.

"Mom, don't worry too much." Wang Huanbo held his mother-in-law's trembling hand, his voice firm yet gentle. "This isn't the old society anymore. The General Hospital of the Military Region has the most advanced equipment and medicines, and the experts at the Health Bureau are top-tier doctors who treat central leaders. Xiao'e and the baby will definitely be safe."

Lou Zhenhua, also suppressing his grief, comforted his wife, "Yes, my dear wife, don't cry. Medicine is so advanced now, it's not like when we were young. Xiao'e is a lucky person; she'll be alright."

Just then, footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. Li Huaide rushed over, his face still bearing the fatigue and dust from dealing with the scene. Seeing Mr. and Mrs. Lou Zhenhua, he quickly went forward to greet them: "Mr. Lou, Mrs. Lou, you've arrived. Don't worry too much. With so many experts here, Comrade Xiao'e and the child will definitely be safe."

Lou Zhenhua nodded reluctantly, while Tan Loushi was still sobbing, though her emotions had stabilized somewhat. Seeing that his parents-in-law were temporarily settled, Wang Huanbo pulled Li Huaide to the stairwell and whispered, "Old Li, how's the scene handling? What's the casualty situation?"

Li Huaide sighed, his voice extremely low: "The seriously injured have been prioritized for transfer to major hospitals like Peking Union Medical College Hospital and Beijing General Hospital, while the lightly injured are being treated at our factory hospital. Seven workers died, all good comrades..." He paused, a flicker of pain in his eyes, "The factory has decided to provide each victim's family with a 1,000 yuan compensation payment, and a monthly survivor's allowance equivalent to 80% of their original salary until the children reach adulthood. Families with school-aged children will be directly replaced by factory workers; for those with very young children, the mothers will start working at the factory first, and will formally take over the work once the children are of age."

Wang Huanbo listened attentively, his brow furrowed. After a moment of contemplation, he added, "Old Li, the factory union must follow this matter closely. Those orphans and widows are the most vulnerable right now, and it's inevitable that some malicious relatives might try to take advantage of the Red Star Factory's jobs. We cannot let the martyrs shed blood and tears again; we absolutely cannot allow such a thing as 'profiting from the families of the deceased' to happen!"

Upon hearing this, Li Huaide's expression hardened, and he nodded solemnly: "Engineer Wang is right! I will personally lead the team to implement this, establishing a dedicated support group to track the situation of each family one-on-one. Anyone who dares to bully the families of our factory's martyrs at this time, I, Li Huaide, will be the first to object!"

The two exchanged a glance, both seeing determination in each other's eyes. They knew all too well how sought-after a job at the Red Star Factory was—it wasn't just a job, but a golden key to a comfortable life!

Section 2: The coveted "Red Star" positions are the subject of intense competition and undercurrents.

While Wang Huanbo and Li Huaide were discussing the aftermath, the aftermath work in Courtyard No. 95 and the surrounding area had entered a delicate and complicated stage—the succession of positions and the distribution of compensation.

Hongxing United Industrial Company, an industrial giant upgraded and expanded from the original Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, has now become a "holy land" in the hearts of workers across the country. It not only has many high-profit branch factories such as automobile factories, motorcycle factories, electronics factories, and agricultural machinery factories, and its products are exported overseas to earn a lot of foreign exchange, but also has become the dream workplace for countless people with its enviable wages, benefits and housing conditions.

Ordinary workers earned a starting monthly wage of 48 yuan, while skilled workers could earn over 150 yuan, far exceeding the industry average. The work clothes and protective equipment distributed annually were of superior quality. Holiday bonuses—rice, noodles, oil, meat, fruit, and pastries—were piled high like small mountains. Most enviable were the newly built staff housing buildings—twenty-story high-rises with elevators, each household having its own kitchen, toilet (with shower and bathtub!), spacious living room and bedroom, and even a large balcony for growing flowers and plants! This was hardly housing in the 50s! Even in Europe and America, it would be a living standard only the middle class could enjoy!

Such generous benefits naturally made positions at the Hongxing Factory highly sought after. Normal entry required rigorous political vetting, cultural examinations, and skills tests, with acceptance rates often reaching several dozen to one. On the black market, however, a single Hongxing Factory job opening was being sold for a staggering 6 RMB – equivalent to six years' wages for an average worker! Moreover, there was virtually no market for such a position; very few people were genuinely willing to relinquish their spots.

Against this backdrop, the "substitute" qualifications of the seven deceased workers became a highly coveted prize for many.

At the makeshift aftermath handling point set up in the front yard of the courtyard house, Wang Hongmei was leading cadres from the street office and neighborhood committee to register the information of the victims' families one by one. Sitting in front of her was a woman in her early thirties, holding a little girl of five or six years old in her arms, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

"Sister-in-law Liu, your husband, Comrade Liu Dayong, was a security officer who died in the line of duty. According to the regulations of Hongxing Factory, you have two choices," Wang Hongmei said in a gentle but professional voice. "One is for you to take over the job yourself, and then officially take over when your child turns eighteen; the other is for you to designate a direct relative who is at least sixteen years old to take over the job. What do you think…?"

Before Sister-in-law Liu could speak, a middle-aged man with a burly face squeezed through the crowd: "Director Hongmei! I'm Dayong's older brother, Liu Dagang! My son is sixteen this year, just graduated from junior high school, and he's perfect for the job! My sister-in-law is just a woman, what can she do in the factory? Let my son go!"

"You're talking nonsense!" Sister-in-law Liu suddenly exploded, shoving the little girl behind her back, standing up and glaring at the man. "Liu Dagang! Da Yong's body is barely cold, and you're already trying to steal his job? Your son only graduated from junior high? He can't even recognize all 26 letters of the alphabet! Da Yong risked his life for this job, why should it be given to your son?!"

"Oh dear, sister-in-law, what are you saying!" Liu Dagang wasn't offended at all, instead grinning, "We're all family, why distinguish between 'yours' and 'mine'? My son goes to the factory, won't he have to take care of you, his aunt, in the future? Besides, what can a widow with a little girl do in a factory? It's better to..."

"Enough!" Wang Hongmei slammed her hand on the table and shouted sharply, "Liu Dagang! This is a pension from the organization for the families of martyrs, not your private property! If you dare to cause any more trouble, I'll have the police come and talk to you!"

Liu Dagang was stunned by the shout and retreated sullenly to the side, his eyes filled with resentment. He muttered to himself, "Hmph, a widow, trying to hogging the post? Let's see how long she can last..."

This scene is just one example of many similar scenarios. Around almost every victim's family, there was a group of "helpful" relatives, some openly demanding jobs, others feigning "help" while harboring malicious intentions.

Such scenes played out repeatedly in and around Courtyard No. 95. The greed and ugliness of human nature were laid bare in the face of profit. Those "relatives" who were normally completely unrelated swarmed in like sharks smelling blood.

Fortunately, the Hongxing Factory responded quickly and effectively. The support team that Li Huaide had arranged before leaving had already taken action. Each victim's family had a designated person in charge, who explained the policies, provided legal advice, and even assigned security officers to be on duty 24 hours a day to prevent anyone from forcing widows to remarry or adopt children.

"Dear families of our fallen workers!" Li Huaide stood on the high platform in the center of the courtyard and announced loudly through a tin megaphone, "The Party Committee of Hongxing Factory has given clear instructions: the martyrs defended the interests of the factory and the country with their lives, and their families must receive the best care! Any attempt to infringe upon the rights of the martyrs' families will be severely punished by law! The street office and the factory's labor union have opened a hotline for reporting violations, staffed 24 hours a day!"

This statement, like a sharp sword, temporarily deterred those restless "relatives." But everyone knew that this covert battle over positions had only just begun…

Section 3: Healers with Compassion Fight Death, Multiple Parties Collaborate to Protect New Life

Inside the operating room of the military hospital, the atmosphere was so tense it was almost frozen. Under the operating lights, Lou Xiao'e's pale face was mostly hidden by an oxygen mask, her long eyelashes casting faint shadows in the light. The beeping sounds from various monitoring instruments were particularly jarring in the silent operating room.

"Blood pressure 90/60, heart rate 120, blood oxygen 92%..." The anesthesiologist stared intently at the monitor, calmly reporting the data.

"Fetal heart rate 160, with slight fluctuations..." The midwife in charge of fetal heart monitoring frowned.

The surgeon, Dean Zhang, and Professor Lin, an authority on obstetrics from the Health Bureau, exchanged a glance, both seeing seriousness in each other's eyes. Lou Xiao'e's condition was more complicated than expected—stress reaction caused by fright, mild placental abruption, irregular cervical dilation, uterine atony... Each of these factors alone would be dangerous enough, but now they had all come together in one pregnant woman.

"Prepare for a cesarean section," Professor Lin decided decisively. "If we delay any longer, the fetus will suffer from oxygen deprivation. Save the baby first, then address the mother's issues."

Dean Zhang nodded and turned to the scrub nurse: "Give me the finest absorbable sutures; I'll need them for post-operative uterine repair. Also, prepare two units of type O negative blood in case of massive bleeding."

The soft sound of a scalpel cutting through skin was clearly audible in the silent operating room. Layer after layer of tissue was carefully separated until the uterine wall was exposed. When Professor Lin's hand reached into the uterus and took out the premature baby, who was bluish-purple and pitifully small, everyone's hearts were in their throats.

"A girl! Weighing 1.8 kg!" The midwife quickly took the baby and began clearing her airway. "Weak cry... Apgar score 6!"

The Apgar score for newborns is out of 10, and a score of 6 indicates a critical condition. The medical team immediately split into two groups: one group continued to treat Lou Xiao'e's wounds and stop the bleeding; the other group did everything they could to save this premature little life.

"Tracheal intubation! Prepare the neonatal incubator! Administer pulmonary surfactant!" The pediatric specialists quickly took over, and a series of rescue measures were carried out in an orderly manner.

Outside the operating room, Wang Huanbo suddenly felt a pang of heartache. He abruptly stood up, his gaze fixed on the operating room door. Just moments ago, he had vaguely sensed a faint but familiar life force—the very breath connected to his own blood! The child was born!

"What's wrong?" Lou Zhenhua noticed his son-in-law's unusual behavior and asked nervously.

"The child... the child is born," Wang Huanbo murmured, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

Upon hearing this, Madam Tan Lou immediately began wiping away tears again: "May the Bodhisattva protect me... May the Bodhisattva protect me... How is the child? How is Xiao'e?"

As if in response to her question, the operating room door suddenly opened, and a nurse wearing a mask rushed out: "Engineer Wang! Your wife has given birth, it's a girl! Because of premature birth, she's currently in the neonatal intensive care unit. Her condition is stable for now, but she still needs observation. Dean Zhang asked me to inform you, so please be prepared..."

"What mental preparation?!" Mrs. Tan grabbed the nurse's hand, her voice suddenly shrill. "What happened to my daughter? What happened to the child?!"

The nurse glanced at Wang Huanbo with a troubled expression and whispered, "Premature infants have underdeveloped lungs and respiratory distress syndrome... Your wife has lost a lot of blood and is still receiving a transfusion..."

Wang Huanbo closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "Please tell Dean Zhang and Professor Lin to use the best medicine and the best equipment, and not to worry about the cost. If you need anything, just tell me."

The nurse nodded and hurried back to the operating room. The corridor fell silent again, broken only by Tan Loushi's suppressed sobs and Lou Zhenhua's heavy sighs.

Seeing this, Li Huaide stepped forward and patted Wang Huanbo on the shoulder: "Engineer Wang, don't worry too much. The equipment at the General Hospital of the Military Region is the best in the country, and the experts at the Health Bureau are top-notch. Comrade Xiao'e and the baby will definitely pull through."

Wang Huanbo didn't respond, but silently walked to the window, gazing at the gradually brightening sky outside. No one saw a faint golden light flash deep within his eyes. He was channeling the energy of light within his body, attempting to offer his wife and child the faintest support through the walls and distance. It was risky—it might be detected by the astute medical staff—but he couldn't care less.

Meanwhile, in the neonatal intensive care unit, a tug-of-war with death was unfolding. The tiny infant, almost large enough to fit in an adult's palm, lay in an incubator, his body riddled with tubes, his chest rising and falling weakly. His skin was so thin it was almost transparent, revealing the bluish-purple veins beneath.

"Your blood oxygen level has dropped again! 85%...80%..." the nurse reported anxiously.

"Increase oxygen levels! Beware of retinopathy!" A fine sweat beaded on the pediatrician's forehead. "Prepare for the second pulmonary surfactant injection!"

In that critical moment, no one noticed that an extremely faint, almost invisible golden halo suddenly appeared on the baby's chest. The halo, like the softest veil, covered the baby's small body, disappearing in an instant. But what followed was a rise in the numbers on the monitor!