The Fitter Master in the Courtyard: Surrounded by Dead Men

After speaking, Yang Ping brought up the assassin training panel and selected the option to enable space sharing.

[Ding—System notification: Space sharing function has been successfully activated.]

The host can bind or unbind shared objects at will. After binding, both parties can use the system space. Please experience it for yourself.

】

The system's voice rang in my mind.

At the same time, the 100,000 yuan stored in the system space was also deducted, leaving only 200,000 yuan in the original place.

"Bound object: Black Mouse".

Yang Ping confirmed without hesitation.

"It's done, Comrade Yang!"

Black Rat tried to put the water bottle on the table into its spatial storage, then instantly took it out again, its face beaming with excitement.

"Don't touch anything in the space. Leave me fifty square meters of space, and you can use the rest as you like."

Yang Ping confessed.

The system space is a full 1,000 square meters and three meters high, which is more than enough space for the black rat to store whatever it wants.

Comrade Yang, rest assured, I won't touch any of your things, and I'll make sure to leave you plenty of space where you need it.

Black Rat spoke with certainty.

Yang Ping nodded slightly.

His men might have their own agendas outside, but when they were with him, their loyalty was genuine and unwavering.

He never doubted this.

That's settled then. I'll head back now if there's nothing else.

He said this and then turned around.

Alright! Comrade Yang, just you wait and see. With this system space, I guarantee I'll make you a fortune.

Black Rat patted his chest and gave a guarantee.

become.

Yang Ping answered readily, without the slightest doubt in his heart.

He left the side room, hopped on the old bicycle, and rode all the way back to the courtyard house.

It was just past eight o'clock in the evening, and the courtyard was quiet.

Most households had already turned off their lights and gone to bed, with only a few windows still lit.

Yan Fugui stood alone in the courtyard, his back view appearing somewhat lost in thought.

Hey, Uncle San, still up so late?

Yang Ping pushed the cart into the yard and saw him standing there in a daze with his back to her, so she casually greeted him.

Oh my goodness! Yang Ping, you scared me to death!

Yan Fugui shuddered, turned around and saw it was him, then patted his chest and breathed a sigh of relief.

Yang Ping smiled, and seeing the uncertain expression on the old man's face, asked another question:

What's wrong with you today? Usually you would have come to greet me long ago, but today you seem to have something on your mind.

No, nothing like that! Don't overthink it!

Yan Fugui repeatedly waved his hands in denial.

Yang Ping wasn't in a hurry to leave; she just looked at him with a smile.

Under such intense scrutiny, Yan Fugui finally couldn't hold back any longer and sighed, "Fine, I can't hide it from you, kid."

Tomorrow is my family's arranged blind date, and I'm feeling really nervous, afraid that the girl won't like me.

Yan Fugui felt a chill run down his spine from his gaze and finally told him the whole story.

Yang Ping then realized what was happening.

Counting the days, Yan Jiecheng has indeed reached the age where he should get married.

If he didn't have to attend a banquet for a high-ranking leader tomorrow, he would have really wanted to stay and see if it was Yu Li who was coming; that girl was indeed quite nice.

As Yang Ping's gaze swept over Yan Fugui's wrinkled face, he immediately understood: this old man was probably afraid that someone would interfere and ruin the Yan family's marriage, causing him to lose money for nothing.

Although the cost of a meal plus hiring a matchmaker wasn't too high, it was enough to keep Yan Fugui up at night.

That's it, he has no intention of getting involved in this mess.

After all, he didn't have any old grudges with the Yan family. In fact, Yan Fugui had helped him out of a few awkward situations at previous hospital assemblies.

"Don't worry, things will go smoothly. Your Jiecheng will definitely be able to marry his wife."

Yang Ping smiled, her tone relaxed.

"I hope so."

Yan Fugui muttered to himself, but his brows were not completely relaxed.

Yang Ping didn't say anything more and pushed his bicycle towards the backyard.

"Brother Yang Ping, you're finally back! The weather turned cold so suddenly, you need to bring those pots of daffodils inside, don't forget."

Ma Xiaoling's voice came from the side, carrying a hint of familiar concern.

"Okay, sis, I'll go move it right away."

Thank you for looking after me these past few days. I just bought some peach shortbread; you can have some to try.

Yang Ping smiled and agreed, then casually took out a neatly square pastry bag wrapped in old newspaper from the cloth bag and handed it over.

These days, I'm so grateful for her constant help; it's only right that I give her something in return.

"Wow, you're the one who cares about people, much better than my husband!"

Ma Xiaoling took the peach shortbread, her eyes revealing undisguised joy.

She came from the countryside and had only heard of peach shortbread before. Today was the first time she had held it in her hands, and it warmed her heart.

Yang Ping just smiled faintly, didn't say anything more, turned around and pushed the cart into her own house.

Yang Ping woke up from her sleep to find the sunlight outside the window already dazzling.

On his day off, he didn't rush to get up, letting himself sink into the soft bedding.

He didn't get up until the clock on the wall had passed nine o'clock, and then slowly washed up.

Pushing open the door and stepping into the courtyard, he bumped into He Yuzhu leaning against the door, grinning at Xu Damao.

"Oh, did you have to kneel on the washboard for your husband again last night? Look at your weak legs, you can't even walk straight."

Xu Damao's face flushed red, his finger almost poking the other man's nose: "He Yuzhu! Stop spouting nonsense!"

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

He Yuzhu laughed even harder, "Then why are you trembling like that? I bet you'll have to kneel again tonight!"

Xu Damao was so angry his lips trembled, and he was about to retort when a clear greeting suddenly came from the backyard—

"Yang Ping!"

Ma Xiaoling emerged from the moon gate carrying a bamboo basket, her wisps of hair fluttering slightly in the wind.

Upon hearing her voice, He Yuzhu immediately stopped laughing and turned his head to pretend to look at the sparrows under the eaves.

Last time, he only made a few jokes, and the girl immediately exploded, pointing her finger at him and giving him a good scolding. If it weren't for the aunties desperately stopping her, she probably would have really swung her clenched fist.

He Yuzhu felt frustrated: if he fought with a woman, it would sound bad; but if he just took the beating without fighting back, he would lose face.

From then on, he would automatically avoid Ma Xiaoling whenever he saw her.

"Sister Xiaoling."

Yang Ping nodded at her.

Yang Ping responded after washing up.

"Our Da Mao cooked breakfast, want to come over and have some?"

Ma Xiaoling asked.

"No need, I bought the groceries yesterday, I can cook them myself when I get back."

Yang Ping declined.

"Oh well."

Ma Xiaoling didn't insist. She glanced at the few neighbors peeking around in the yard, then turned and went back into the house.

The surroundings were eerily quiet, which puzzled Yang Ping – could it be that everyone in this courtyard had been dealt with by Ma Xiaoling? Even Jia Zhangshi, who was usually the most gossipy, kept her mouth shut and didn't dare to utter a sound.

He couldn't help but chuckle to himself: This Ma Xiaoling is truly a formidable character.

Yang Ping's guess was right.

Anyone in this courtyard who dares to say even half a word about Ma Xiaoling behind her back will at best be scolded so badly they can't lift their head, and at worst almost get punched. She's practically a female version of a "hothead."

Now, no one dares to provoke her.

Yang Ping went back to her room and prepared breakfast herself.

After dinner, I took out a book from my personal storage space and sat in the room idly flipping through it.

He also washed a few pears—those were some stock that Black Rat had brought in earlier, weighing at least several thousand pounds. He casually picked a few to eat.

The pears, on the other hand, were sweet and juicy.

While he was eating, he saw Ma Xiaoling come out to collect the laundry to wash, so he took six more pears from his spatial storage and brought them to her.

Ma Xiaoling accepted it with a smile.

As the sun moved, it was past one o'clock in the afternoon.

Yang Ping estimated that it was about time, so he pushed his bicycle out the door—he had an appointment to attend a banquet at a high-ranking leader's place today.

Just as I reached the front yard, I ran into Yan Fugui carrying a piece of pork back home.

Yang Ping raised an eyebrow and joked, "Oh, Third Uncle, are you having a special meal today? I'm not cooking tonight, so I'll come over for dinner."

Yan Fugui quickly waved his hand: "Yang Ping, this is no laughing matter."

Yan Fugui's expression instantly darkened.

His biggest worry was that someone would cause trouble, and Yang Ping's words hit the nail on the head.

"Oh."

Yang Ping simply smiled faintly.

"Don't worry, Uncle, someone invited me to dinner tonight, so I won't be coming back."

After saying that, he rode his bicycle straight to the Red Star Steel Rolling Mill to keep his appointment with that important person.

Watching Yang Ping's departing figure, Yan Fugui finally felt relieved.

When Yang Ping arrived at Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, the factory area was quiet; it was a day off.

But the security personnel were still on duty, and when they saw him arrive, they immediately went up to greet him warmly.

"Master Yang, what brings you here today?"

"Deputy Factory Director Li told me to wait for him at the factory."

Yang Ping replied.

He didn't mention the important figure; simply invoking Li Chengde's name was enough.

"Please wait a moment, I'll get you a chair."

The security guard turned to get it as he spoke.

Before Yang Ping could refuse, the other party had already set out a chair.

He simply parked his bicycle, sat down, and waited while drinking tea.

The security personnel were exceptionally attentive, offering cigarettes and refilling water, treating them with the same respect one would show to a superior.

Yang Ping was happy to chat with him for a few minutes.

Shortly after, a black sedan drove into the factory gate.

The car window rolled down, revealing Li Chengde's face.

"Yang Ping, get in the car!"

"They're here."

Yang Ping responded, got up, opened the car door, and got in.

The security guard standing there looked on with envy; he had lived most of his life and had never ridden in such a car.

"You're here quite early."

Li Chengde said.

The wheels had barely come to a stop when Li Chengde's voice came from the passenger seat. "You've heard about the 693 incident, haven't you?"

Yang Ping turned his head to the side, a humble smile playing on his lips. "Deputy Factory Director Li, I haven't been here long."

"You've received your Level 8 fitter certificate?"

Li Chengde turned his head, his gaze scrutinizing him.

"I was lucky and passed the test."

Yang Ping replied.

Li Chengde smacked his lips lightly and said nothing more.

The street scene outside the car window flowed past, but his heart was in turmoil: three years, level eight.

If it weren't for the three-year apprenticeship rule at the beginning, this young man would probably have already broken through the threshold of becoming an engineer.

Scattered conversations gradually filled the carriage, the topics revolving around technology and production, but all were superficial and did not delve into any deeper issues.

Soon, the car stopped in front of a drab, gray tenement building.

"Right here."

Li Chengde opened the car door with clean and efficient movements.

Yang Ping also pushed open the door and got out of the car. As soon as her feet touched the ground, a familiar voice flew over.

"Master Yang!"

Ma Hua, wearing a faded apron, strode quickly from the stairwell entrance with a smile on his face.

"Master Ma."

Yang Ping nodded in response.

He wasn't surprised to see the other party here—the leader had mentioned during their last meeting that if there was a banquet to entertain him, he would have to borrow the skills of the MCA (Malaysian Chinese Association).

The two entered the building one after the other.

In the living room, the leader and Factory Director Yang were sitting on an old sofa, talking in hushed tones.

Hearing footsteps, he immediately raised his hand and greeted them with a beaming smile: "You're here, Yang Ping, Ma Hua!"

"lead."

The two spoke almost simultaneously.

"Sit down, everyone sit down, don't stand."

The leader gestured to the wooden chair next to him.

Yang Ping thanked him and sat down calmly.

Ma Hua rubbed his hands together, his gaze already drifting towards the door leading to the kitchen.

Ma Hua bowed slightly, choosing not to sit down. "I'll go to the kitchen to prepare first, so we don't get flustered later."

He knew his place and understood that he was ultimately the one in charge of cooking. He couldn't agree with the leaders sitting in the hall, so he figured it was better to retreat to the kitchen early and be at ease.

The senior leader nodded approvingly: "Being meticulous is a good thing."