Courtyard House: Home Alone

"Now that I'm in Beiping, who else would I look for if not you?"

Chen Gongshu warmed his hands with the teacup, looked her up and down, and finally fixed his gaze on Long Xiaoni's face. "It's been two years since I last saw you. You've become more and more womanly."

Long Xiaoni's cheeks flushed slightly, then she said seriously, "Station Chief Chen, you're too kind. Your sudden visit couldn't have been just to praise me, could it?"

Chen Gongshu lowered his head and took a sip of hot water. In the rising steam, the old scar between his eyebrows stood out prominently. He placed the teacup on the table, reached out and pulled Long Xiaoni over to sit on his lap: "Xiaoni, I have planned and carried out more than a hundred assassinations so far. Countless Japanese soldiers and traitors have died at my hands."

But because of a mistake I made in Hanoi, they put me under house arrest. It's truly disheartening!

If they hadn't run into a tough opponent this time, who knows when they would have gotten out. By the way, Xiao Ni, what about you? I asked around before I came, and I heard you left the Military Intelligence Bureau?

Long Xiaoni felt the large hand inside her clothes and slumped down onto Chen Gongshu, her breathing becoming heavy: "This is what Jiaxing traded his future for. What can a woman like me, a woman in her fifties, do? After you left, I figured it out. I should just live a peaceful life."

Chen Gongshu paused, then withdrew his hand, picked up his teacup, and took another sip. The coal in the stove crackled softly, casting their shadows on the wall covered with old newspapers, flickering in and out of focus.

"Stable?"

He chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in his laughter. "Little girl, you've followed me for three years, from Nanjing to Shanghai, from Shanghai to Beiping. You know the rules of the Military Intelligence Bureau better than I do—once you're in, if you want a peaceful life, you'd better ask the King of Hell if he'll accept you."

Long Xiaoni's expression changed. She stood up, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtain a crack to look outside. The old locust tree in the backyard swayed in the wind and snow, its branches reaching towards the gray sky like ghostly claws.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"What do I want to say? What I want to say is... there's no one at Beiping Station now."

I arrived in Beiping a few days ago and took a good look around, only to find that all the contact points were gone. Not only were the contact points gone, but I couldn't even find the people.

This "ghost" is really clever, Xiao Ni. Besides you, I don't have anyone I can rely on in Beiping anymore.

Although I still know quite a few people outside, I have no idea what their current situation is. I dare not contact them. This time, I was sent to Beiping to find the "ghost," but judging from the current situation, to complete this mission, I'm afraid...

Chen Gongshu came up behind Long Xiaoni and hugged her from behind. Long Xiaoni didn't turn around, but her shoulders stiffened slightly.

"Now, I basically never leave the house, and I don't know more than you do."

"Really?" Chen Gongshu's breath brushed against her ear, carrying the bitter taste of aged tobacco. "I believe you, but starting tomorrow, you'll have to go out and see if you can find out anything for me."

"Today..." Chen Gongshu half-embraced and half-hugs Long Xiaoni as they fell onto the bed.

What they didn't know was that everything that happened here was clearly seen by Lin Yifan in the East Wing.

It had become a habit for him to use his mental energy to check his surroundings from time to time. Just as Chen Gongshu entered the courtyard, he was spotted by Lin Yifan, who was observing the surrounding situation.

"Chen Gongshu, I didn't expect to see you here. This is called walking into a trap. But since you old flames have met, let you have a good get-together." Then, he curled up in the blankets and went to sleep.

Meanwhile, inside the main room of the Tang residence, the pine wood in the fireplace was burning brightly.

Tang Baolin sat in the main seat, opposite an American man in his forties, with a ruddy complexion, gray eyes, and wearing a woolen overcoat. Next to the American sat a Chinese man in a long gown and gold-rimmed glasses, who was translating for him in a low voice.

"Mr. Smith said,"

The translator adjusted his glasses. "This time he wants $200,000 worth of penicillin. As per your request, he's providing five generator sets—the latest diesel engines, each 250 kilowatts—for a total of $32,500. The cost of the generator sets will be deducted from the price of the medication."

Tang Baolin picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said, "Tell him it's possible, and give him a discount too, at 90% of the black market price."

In addition, you should tell him that we need a complete set of power plant equipment, specifically a thermal power plant with an installed capacity of no less than 50,000 kilowatts, either brand new or used.

As you should know, several countries are waiting for our supplies. One of the conditions I'm giving you now is that whoever can get large power plant equipment or steel plant equipment will get a higher share from me.

These two points should be most advantageous to Mr. Smith. I know that many factories in your country are closing down now, and that equipment is very cheap; you usually just dispose of it as scrap metal.

After listening to the translation, a glint of shrewdness flashed in Smith's gray eyes, and he leaned forward unconsciously: "Mr. Tang, 50,000 kilowatts of thermal power plant equipment—that's no small feat. Transportation, installation, commissioning—every step is a challenge."

"The problem is yours."

Tang Baolin put down his teacup, the porcelain clinking against the wooden table. "What I want is results. Once the equipment arrives at Tianjin Port, someone will naturally take over."

As for how to assemble and debug it, that's up to Mr. Smith to figure out. 'Ghost' will pay you twice the salary in the US, on a per-capita basis. How you pay them is your problem.

The translator relayed the message, and Smith exchanged a few words in hushed tones with the Chinese man beside him, a look of hesitation appearing on his ruddy face. The pine wood in the fireplace crackled, sparks leaping up and falling back down.

"Mr. Smith asked," the translator carefully chose his words, """"How much could his share increase if he could get his hands on the steel mill's equipment?"

Tang Baolin tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest, his rhythm slow and steady: "Open-hearth furnace, converter, rolling mill—the complete set of equipment. For every 10,000 tons of capacity equipment they acquire, I'll increase their allocation by $150,000. Coking ovens and refractory materials are separate."

The American abruptly stood up and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, the hem of his wool coat brushing against the Persian carpet. He suddenly stopped, turned to Tang Baolin, and extended his right hand: "Deal! But I have one condition—"

"explain."

"I need to deliver the first batch of generator sets within a month. Winter winds and waves are high, and we can't afford any delays. Therefore, I hope to deliver them as soon as the ship arrives."

Tang Baolin grasped the large, hairy hand, its palm dry yet strong: "Sure, one month. Go back and send a telegram to have the ship sail to Tianjin. Payment will be made in penicillin, upon delivery."

Smith paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the main room: "Mr. Tang, doing business with you is truly exhilarating! In my fifteen years in China, I've never seen Chinese people as—" He searched for the right words, "as bold and decisive as you."

"That's because you've only ever met compradors before."