Courtyard House: I Have Countless Bodyguards

Liu Jianguo's tone became more amiable. He naturally put his arm around his shoulder, as if making small talk, but he got to the heart of the matter: "Let's not beat around the bush. This time, besides business at the factory, I'm also particularly interested in the creatures of our grasslands."

He lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret, "For example, some wild animal offspring that are not commonly seen in the mountains and meadows, which can be saved if injured, or seedlings of plants and flowers with special medicinal properties that cannot be found outside. I don't know... if you have any connections in your area or nearby. The price is negotiable; you can use national grain coupons, cash, or exchange them for some scarce goods brought from the city." He threw out the real bait, testing the other party's reaction and channels.

Upon hearing this, Qin Sande's eyes flickered a few times, and a perfectly measured look of embarrassment appeared on his dark face.

He rubbed his hands together, his toes unconsciously grinding the clods of earth on the ground, and lowered his voice, tinged with caution: "Director Liu... to be honest, my family lives in a yurt deep in the grasslands. My father and grandfather spent most of their time wandering in the mountains, so they recognized some rare things and occasionally caught live animals. But..."

He looked up at the sky. "The sun is already setting, and the road is difficult to travel. By the time we get there, it will be completely dark. It's really inconvenient..."

His words left room for interpretation, indicating both the possibility and raising the bar, and were also a cautious probe.

Liu Jianguo narrowed his eyes, instantly weighing the pros and cons in his mind. Deep in the grasslands, yurts, herders familiar with the mountains and forests... this was precisely the channel he was looking for, the one most likely to access the resources he needed, where risks and opportunities coexisted.

His face immediately lit up with a deep and genuine interest, as if he had met a kindred spirit: "The yurt is great! I've always wanted to experience real grassland life."

He patted Qin Sande on the shoulder, his tone decisive and brooking no refusal: "It's settled then. Tomorrow morning, before dawn, come to my dorm and we'll sneak off to visit your house. Don't worry, I won't let your family suffer any losses."

Qin Sande responded with a complex expression.

The next morning, before dawn and in the biting cold, Qin Sande was already waiting outside the dormitory on time.

Liu Jianguo had barely slept all night, yet he was unusually excited. He quickly got up and gathered Li Cheng and five others.

"Li Cheng, you and the men wait here with Brother Qin for a moment. Have someone inform the other group that we won't be coming back today."

His tone was calm, yet carried an air of urgency: "I'm going to get something from the car." Some preparations must be carried out in absolute secrecy.

He walked alone to the jeep parked in the corner, opened the door, and got into the driver's seat.

His consciousness instantly sank into that little world that belonged only to him. With a slight thought, a thick stack of national grain coupons, several large and small golden croakers (gold bars) appeared in his hand.

Just as he was about to leave, his gaze swept over a corner of the small world—there were several beehives there, where the honey produced by bees spontaneously raised by the Sword Group using the spatial characteristics was crystal clear, viscous, and tempting in color.

He had a sudden thought: in this era of sugar scarcity, especially on the grasslands where sweets were scarce, the value of this jar of honey might far exceed that of gold and silver, and it could be even more touching, especially for women and children.

So he carefully took out a jar of amber-colored honey, weighing about one pound and sealed tightly.

He carefully wrapped the ration coupons, gold bars, and honey in a thick cloth and stuffed them into his worn-out military green satchel. Back in the ranks, he calmly handed the satchel to Li Cheng, his tone flat yet weighty: "Take this, and keep a close eye on it."

Li Cheng took the bag, and as his arm felt a slight weight, he immediately understood its significance. He nodded solemnly and hugged the bag tightly to his chest.

"Let's go," Liu Jianguo ordered.

The group followed Qin Sande silently, treading on the morning frost, heading into the depths of the grassland.

Beneath his feet lay withered, brittle grass stalks, and all around him was an endless, desolate emptiness. Qin Sande was a man of few words, occasionally pointing to the faint outline of distant mountains, and saying, "Director Liu, my home is still inside; it'll take all morning to walk there."

The long trek passed by amidst the monotonous scenery. Liu Jianguo casually chatted with Qin Sande about the grassland climate and livestock habits, but in reality, every word he uttered was a subtle way of extracting information, assessing the herder family's actual situation, their reputation in the local area, and their potential sources of goods.

It wasn't until nearly noon, when everyone and their horses were exhausted, that the outlines of a few gray-white yurts finally appeared on the horizon, like lone boats on a vast sea.

Qin Sande quickened his pace and shouted loudly in Mongolian.

Immediately, the heavy felt curtain of the largest yurt was lifted, and an old man with a weathered face and sharp, eagle-like eyes, dressed in an old but neat Mongolian robe, came out with his family to greet them.

The old man's gaze swept over Liu Jianguo and the others. He placed his right hand on his chest, bowed slightly, and said in broken but clear Chinese, "Sainbainu! (Hello)"

The movements were simple yet solemn. Although Liu Jianguo didn't understand the detailed etiquette, he immediately followed suit, placing his right hand on his chest, bowing slightly, and solemnly returning the greeting: "Hello."

The old man stepped aside, lifted the heavy curtain, and gestured for them to leave. Liu Jianguo, no longer standing on ceremony, led Li Cheng and the others, bowing their heads, into the yurt.

A warm aroma, a blend of milk, firewood, leather, and the patina of time, wafts over you.

The room was spacious and the floor was clean, clearly having been thoroughly cleaned.

The tin stove in the center was burning brightly, dispelling the bitter cold outside. On the low table beside the stove, a clean cloth was laid out, on which were neatly arranged milk skin, fried rice, fried dough sticks, and other items.

Though not extravagant, it was the highest form of hospitality on this resource-scarce grassland. Liu Jianguo could clearly feel this silent yet profound respect, which far exceeded that of ordinary business relationships.

After he sat down, a kind-faced woman with gentle eyes respectfully presented Liu Jianguo with a gleaming silver bowl filled with steaming, fragrant milk tea.

Liu Jianguo quickly took it with both hands and politely drank a sip.

To his slight unease, the mistress did not leave, but stood quietly to his side and behind him, holding a large bronze kettle, as if waiting for something.

This unfamiliar etiquette left Liu Jianguo, who was used to being in control, somewhat at a loss.

Seeing this, Qin Sande, who was standing to the side, quickly stepped forward and explained in a low voice:

"Director Liu, this is our highest courtesy. The hostess will refill your tea three times, representing our family's deepest blessings and welcome. You take a sip, and she refills it once, a total of three times." His explanation promptly diffused the awkwardness.

Upon hearing this, Liu Jianguo's heart stirred. The sincerity contained in this ancient ritual was far more significant than the yellow croaker and grain coupons he had brought.

He was no longer hesitant, but solemnly followed etiquette, taking a sip each time, waiting for the hostess to refill his glass, then taking another sip, and so on three times.

After finishing, he put down the silver bowl, placed his hands on his chest, bowed deeply to the hostess and Qin's father, and said sincerely, "Thank you very much. This etiquette made me feel the most sincere feelings of my friends from the grasslands."

At this moment, the transactional aspect seemed to fade, and a more complex relationship based on mutual respect began to quietly emerge.