Courtyard House: I Have Countless Bodyguards

After the banquet, everyone said goodbye at the factory gate. Liu Jianguo returned to his office, slightly tipsy, and rested on the sofa for half an hour. When he woke up, he washed his face with cold water and his mind cleared.

Remembering Li Huaide's instructions, he asked the clerk at the door to go to the personnel department and transfer the personnel files of the trainees from the machine repair shop.

He assigned several literate and meticulous staff members to conduct the initial review, while he himself sat behind his desk, seemingly casually flipping through the file catalog.

When he saw the name "Ding Qiunan," a thought struck him, reminding him of his observation that morning. Without making a sound, he pulled out Ding Qiunan's file separately.

Opening the file folder, there weren't many documents inside, but the family relationships section was clearly written:

Father: Ding Zhiyuan.

Identity and History: An intellectual who received higher education in the old society. He worked as an editor for the *Beiping Daily* during the Republic of China era and later held positions in cultural institutions under the Ministry of Education of the old government. After liberation, he was labeled a "person with an unclear history" and was dismissed from his original unit. He currently has no fixed job and makes a living by selling old items and occasionally copying for others.

Mother: Zhou Suqin. Occupation: Traditional housewife, with no independent income.

Liu Jianguo closed the file, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as he fell into deep thought. In this era, one's background was like a sword hanging over one's head. It was a problem, but when it came to persecuting someone, it was a ready-made charge of "bad family background" or "complex social connections."

Liu Jianguo leaned back slightly, sinking into the large leather office chair, his fingertips tapping lightly on the smooth mahogany tabletop.

His gaze fell on the open personnel file. In the "Family Relationships" section, the name "Ding Zhiyuan" and the words "overseas PhD" and "expert with historical issues" that followed it were like sharp thorns stuck in the yellowed pages.

To ordinary people, this might just be a piece of history that needs to be "explained," but to Liu Jianguo, a time traveler who knows the vicissitudes of the next few decades, it is almost a clear and unambiguous pre-determined "black five categories" (a term referring to individuals or groups considered to be black).

A barely perceptible sneer curled at the corner of his mouth, not directed at Ding Qiunan, but at the seemingly rigorous yet flawed censorship mechanism.

"The machine repair shop's political vetting... Hmph, is it a lack of competence, or did someone evade responsibility?"

He muttered to himself, his voice unusually clear and cold in the quiet office. He wasn't really looking for an answer, but rather confirming a fact: Ding Qiunan's "Achilles' heel" had been exposed to him.

"Xiao Zhang." Liu Jianguo pressed the internal intercom button, his voice returning to its usual calm and steady tone.

"Director, what are your instructions?" came the respectful voice of the administrative staff member through the receiver.

"Go find Comrade Ding Qiunan, who is here for further training at the machine repair shop."

Liu Jianguo's tone was flat, revealing no emotion. "Just say that the security department needs to routinely verify the basic information of some trainees, and ask her to come to my office. Be mindful of your attitude, it's a normal procedure."

"Verify basic information"

This is a seemingly harmless yet flexible reason, which both legitimizes the summons and leaves room for the subsequent conversation—it can be tense or relaxed, depending entirely on his needs.

When Xiao Zhang, the internal affairs officer, found Ding Qiunan, who was studying in the infirmary, and politely conveyed Deputy Director Liu's "invitation," Ding Qiunan's hand holding the book trembled almost imperceptibly, and her fingertips instantly turned icy cold.

"Security Department...reviewing documents...contacting me to verify the situation..." Every word felt like a hammer pounding on her tense nerves.

Her worst fears came true.

Her own history was as clean as a blank sheet of paper, but her father Ding Zhiyuan's page was like it had been soaked in water, with blurred handwriting and indistinguishable borders.

"Former staff member," "complex history"... These ghostly labels, which she usually suppressed with her hard work and technical expertise, are now finally being examined under the organization's magnifying glass.

The judgment that "it is highly likely to be one of the five black categories" was like a boulder, instantly making it hard for her to breathe.

Ding Qiunan found the short walk to the office building exceptionally difficult, feeling as if countless gazes were probing her.

She stood in front of the dark wooden door of the deputy director's office, took a deep breath, and then raised her hand to knock on the door.

"Please come in."

A young yet authoritative voice came from inside.

Ding Qiunan pushed open the door and went in, trying her best to appear calm, but her slightly lowered eyelashes and somewhat rapid breathing still betrayed her inner tension.

"Director Liu, hello." Her voice was a few decibels lower than usual, with a barely perceptible tremor.

Liu Jianguo pointed to the chair opposite his desk, his tone flat:

"Comrade Ding Qiunan, please sit down. We've called you here simply to verify some basic information in your file, as part of procedure. Don't be nervous."

He deliberately slowed his speech in an attempt to create a relaxed atmosphere, but his next words instantly brought the atmosphere back to freezing point.

He picked up the file, his gaze landing squarely on Ding Qiunan's face, his tone shifting to a businesslike seriousness:

"According to the records, your father is Ding Zhiyuan. He received higher education in the old society and worked in a hospital department. Currently... he does not have a stable job. Is this information true?"

He didn't use any provocative words; he simply calmly stated the contents of the file. However, the combination of the words "old society" and "no fixed job" in this historical context was itself the most incisive interrogation.

Ding Qiunan's lips twitched. She wanted to say something in defense of her father, even if it was just "he's already trying to reform," but the words caught in her throat. On one hand, the protective shell she had built over the years with "aloofness" and "technical supremacy" made her unaccustomed to and unsure how to humbly "gain trust." On the other hand, Liu Jianguo's questions were all based on undeniable facts, which she couldn't refute. Any explanation seemed pale and powerless at this moment, and might even be interpreted as "not drawing clear lines."

In the end, she simply lowered her head deeply and nodded with an almost imperceptible gesture.

At that moment, she felt an immense sense of powerlessness and shame, as if she were not admitting the truth, but rather signing an invisible confession.

Her mother's constant admonition to "strive for the organization's trust" still echoed in her ears, yet she didn't even have the courage to speak.

Seeing Ding Qiunan's tacit agreement, Liu Jianguo closed the file with a slight sound.

"Okay, Comrade Ding Qiunan, we have verified the situation."

His tone returned to its usual flatness, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as if he had just confirmed something insignificant.

This sudden "end" left Ding Qiunan even more bewildered.

Ding Qiunan felt as if she had been granted a pardon, but her heart was ashen as she stood up and mechanically walked towards the door.