Courtyard House: I Have Countless Bodyguards

The atmosphere in the conference room of the Agriculture, Forestry and Water Resources Bureau was as oppressive as an afternoon before a storm.

Director Wang Xiaoming sat in the main seat, his face so gloomy it could drip water, and four or five cigarette butts had already been stubbed out in the ashtray in front of him.

The heads of all departments and subordinate units in the bureau sat upright, not daring to even breathe loudly, keeping their eyes down, for fear of incurring bad luck.

Wang Xiaoming took a deep drag on the nearly burnt-out cigarette in his hand, then forcefully stubbed it out in the already overflowing ashtray with a piercing "hiss."

He raised his eyelids, his icy gaze sweeping across the room, lingering particularly long on Xu Mao's face for a couple of seconds before he slowly spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a dull knife cutting flesh, each word laced with anger and resentment:

"I've called everyone here urgently today for just one thing!"

He slammed his hand on the table, making the teacup lid rattle, and continued:

"Look at you all!"

what,

Look at all the good stuff your departments and units have submitted!

Thirty-six applications!

They have all sorts of reasons: they want money, goods, and government policies!

The results of it?

"Sent to the higher-ups, to the Planning and Comprehensive Department. How many were approved?"

He picked up the thin folder on the table, containing only three documents, and slammed it down on the table with an almost insulting force:

Three portions!

They approved three of them!

The pass rate is less than 10%!

What does this mean?

Um?"

The conference room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; the only sound was Wang Xiaoming's slightly heavy breathing, a result of his excitement.

He abruptly stood up, bracing himself on the table with both hands, leaning forward like a caged beast enraged. His gaze swept over the crowd again, finally settling almost on Xu Mao, whose face had turned pale, and he said:

Other bureaus, like the Industry Bureau and the Transportation Bureau

Their projects are getting approved one after another, and they're getting tons of funding.

Comrades receive travel allowances, overtime pay, and year-end bonuses.

Who among them didn't eat with their mouths dripping with oil?

Let's take a look at our bureau!

Our Agriculture, Forestry and Water Resources Bureau!

What's the situation now?

The budget is tightly controlled, projects can't move forward, there's no money to repair the water conservancy facilities that need maintenance, and no funds to promote the improved seed technologies!

When our comrades go out to conduct research, they are even reluctant to get their travel expenses reimbursed!

What are we doing?

Are you just going to sit here and drink the northwest wind?

"Are we even going to do our work this year? Have we finished the tasks assigned by our superiors?!"

He grew increasingly agitated as he spoke, his finger almost poking the noses of the section chiefs sitting in the front row, saying:

"I have reported the situation to the relevant municipal leader in detail!"

The leadership attaches great importance to it, but is also very dissatisfied!

Our bureau has become a prime example, a prime example of dragging things down!

Wang Xiaoming took a deep breath, seemingly suppressing his anger, but his tone became even sharper, directly targeting the source of his rage:

"I think that some of our colleagues in the bureau are capable, so they should do their jobs well and put their minds to good things, such as striving for the bureau's interests and opening up new prospects for our work!"

Incompetent, or not focused on their work, constantly scheming and offending the wrong people.

I advise you to write a report and apply for a transfer!

Don't let yourself cause trouble outside and offend people, only to bring back hundreds of colleagues across the entire organization who will be sidelined and given the cold shoulder because of you!

That's practically saying Xu Mao's ID number outright.

Who doesn't know that a while ago, Deputy Director Xu's son had a conflict with Liu Jianguo's child, which caused quite a stir?

Who doesn't know that Deputy Director Xu had previously expressed some disdain for his young superior, Liu Jianguo, on several occasions?

Now look what's happened. The applications we submitted are being held so tightly together. It's obvious who's giving us "special treatment."

For a moment, everyone's eyes, whether openly or secretly, were drawn to Xu Mao, who was sitting to Wang Xiaoming's left, his face alternating between red and white.

There was sympathy, resentment, knowing "I knew it," and a silent accusation of "I've been dragged into this by you."

Xu Mao felt a burning sensation on his face, as if he had been slapped dozens of times in public.

He looked down at the notebook in front of him, wishing it would turn into a crack in the ground so he could disappear into.

Wang Xiaoming's veiled insults were utterly shameless, like tearing his face off and trampling on it.

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails almost dug into his flesh in order to barely maintain a semblance of composure.

Wang Xiaoming glanced around one last time, his gaze as cold as a searchlight, and said in a chilling tone:

"Let me make this clear from the start: whoever causes this trouble is responsible for figuring out how to resolve it themselves!"

Whether you seek mediation or apologize in person, I don't care what you do!

This road must be cleared for me!

Otherwise, at the end of the year, no one will have a good time in any of the bureau's assessments, evaluations, or commendations!

Meeting adjourned!

The words "Meeting adjourned" were like a pardon, and everyone felt as if they had been granted a reprieve. However, no one dared to make a sound. They all lowered their heads and left the meeting room quickly and quietly. When they passed by Xu Mao, their eyes flickered with complex emotions before quickly looking away.

Xu Mao sat stiffly in his seat until everyone had left. Only then did he slowly raise his head, his face turning from red to green, then from green to white, with fine beads of cold sweat on his forehead.

He was left alone in the conference room, surrounded by cigarette butts scattered all over the floor, and by the suffocating, invisible pressure.

Xu Mao didn't know how he got back to his office. He only felt that the corridor was exceptionally long. The respectful greetings from his subordinates along the way sounded like silent mockery to him.

He slammed the office door shut, cutting himself off from the outside world, and then, as if all his strength had been drained, he slumped into the large armchair.