Courtyard House: A Veteran Returns Home and Becomes a Father

The turmoil in the Jia family was not even a ripple to Su Mo.

After dealing with the garbage in the yard, his life returned to normal.

On September 1st, the sky was high and the clouds were light.

This was the day Su Mo officially took office at Jiaodaokou Police Station.

Xia Wanqing suppressed a laugh as she carefully helped Su Mo put on a brand-new blue uniform.

The uniform was issued in ordinary people's sizes, but when worn by a soldier like Su Mo, who was trained year-round and had a tall and straight figure, it looked a bit loose and rather comical.

"Pfft..."

Xia Wanqing finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

She tiptoed and gently straightened her husband's wide collar, her beautiful eyes curving into crescents, her tone full of playful teasing.

"How does it feel to put on this 'battle armor'?"

Su Mo looked down at her mismatched outfit, then glanced at herself in the mirror, and pursed her lips helplessly.

"It feels like I've entered retirement life ahead of schedule."

Xia Wanqing nestled into his arms, feeling his strong heartbeat, her heart overflowing with an unprecedented sweetness and peace.

He gave up his immense power and prestige, took off his military uniform symbolizing supreme glory, and spent his life with his daughter in this ordinary city, living as an inconspicuous doorman.

This kind of "true seclusion in the city" romance gives her more peace of mind than any vow of eternal love.

"fine."

Xia Wanqing tilted her head back and quickly kissed his chin, like a kitten that had stolen a piece of candy. "That way, there won't be so many girls eyeing our hero all the time."

Su Mo affectionately pinched her delicate nose, picked up the purple clay tea set and an old rosewood pipe that had been prepared on the table, and turned to leave.

Jiaodaokou Police Station.

When Su Mo appeared leisurely in the police station courtyard, wearing that ill-fitting uniform, carrying a tea set in one hand and playing with a pipe in the other, he instantly attracted everyone's attention.

"Hey guys, look over there, who's that? New here?"

"Looks quite young, probably in your early twenties? So young and already working as a gatekeeper?"

"Tsk tsk, he looks quite respectable, but is he some spoiled brat that some leader shoved in there and he's hard to manage?"

In the courtyard, several young police officers who were preparing to go out on a mission, and several seasoned veterans who were sunbathing with enamel mugs in their hands, all stopped what they were doing and their eyes fell on Su Mo.

There was curiosity and disdain in those eyes, but more than anything, there was a natural xenophobia.

In this day and age, although working at a police station is tough, it's a highly coveted, secure job.

The fact that a handsome young man in his early twenties would choose to work as a doorman instead of pursuing a more promising career is itself quite surreal.

The only explanation is that this kid is a "connected person".

Moreover, he was the kind of good-for-nothing who was completely abandoned by his family and was simply "raised" in some random place.

People generally keep their distance from this kind of person, and even look down on them to some extent.

Su Mo ignored the probing gazes and walked straight into the director's office.

In the office, an elderly policeman with gray hair and reading glasses was engrossed in reviewing documents. He was Zhao Weiguo, the director of Jiaodaokou Police Station.

"Report."

Su Mo symbolically knocked on the door.

Zhao Weiguo looked up, and the moment he saw Su Mo's face, the pen in his hand fell to the table with a "clatter".

He practically launched himself forward, his face beaming with a warm yet slightly awkward smile, and rushed towards us in a few quick steps.

"Oh my! You...you must be Comrade Su Mo? Welcome, welcome! A warm welcome!"

Zhao Weiguo wanted to shake hands with Su Mo, but halfway through extending his hand, he felt it was inappropriate. His own rank was not high enough to shake hands with this person.

I want to pat someone on the shoulder to show affection, but I'm afraid that if I do, I'll cause the sky to fall.

My goodness!

What are the higher-ups really thinking?

Why would I send such a great deity to guard the gate of my little temple?

This is putting me, Old Zhao, on the hot seat!

Zhao Weiguo's mind was racing, but he dared not show the slightest sign of anything amiss on his face.

He had already received a secret call from his boss. The big boss on the other end of the line spoke with an unprecedentedly solemn tone, repeatedly instructing him on only one thing: treat this person like an ancestor, fulfill all his reasonable requests, but absolutely do not expose his true identity; just let him be the most ordinary gatekeeper.

Zhao Weiguo dared not be negligent. He suppressed his deep respect and nervousness and pointed to a bright and clean little room next to him.

"Um... Comrade Su Mo, I've already arranged your job. It'll be in the mailroom; the work is very easy—just reading newspapers and handling mail and packages. Are you satisfied?"

This isn't an inquiry; it's practically a request for instructions.

"That's good, thank you for your help, Director Zhao."

Su Mo nodded, quite satisfied with the arrangement.

"Oh, you're welcome! You're welcome!"

Director Zhao felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He personally led Su Mo to the mailroom, wiping the table, moving chairs, and even brewing him a cup of hot tea. His attentiveness nearly made the eyes of the police officers who were craning their necks to peek outside pop out of their sockets.

"Holy crap! What's going on? Did Old Zhao take the wrong medicine today?"

"This is bizarre! Just who is this kid? Why is our director treating him like a grandson?"

The gossip-loving spirit of the crowd was instantly ignited and burned fiercely.

Su Mo ignored all of that, found a comfortable rattan chair by the window in the mailroom, crossed his legs, leisurely drank tea, and read the newspaper, officially beginning his "retirement life".

The peaceful days didn't last long.

That afternoon, the police station door was suddenly kicked open.

A hoodlum, reeking of alcohol, with his shirt open and revealing tattoos on his chest, staggered in, swearing and cursing.

"Damn it! Where's Wang Zhijun?! Get your director out here and see me!"

A young police officer who had recently joined the force immediately stepped forward to stop him:

"Comrade, this is a police station, please show some respect!"

"respect?"

The hoodlum spat a mouthful of phlegm at the young policeman's feet, then shoved him away. "I'm here to bail out my brothers today. Anyone who dares to stop me, I'll kill them!"

The young policeman stumbled from the shove, his face turning bright red. He was about to lash out when an older policeman pulled him back.

"Xiao Li, don't be impulsive."

The old policeman lowered his voice, "This bastard is from the Black Tiger Gang, a notorious tough nut to crack. If we mess with him, he'll bring a bunch of people to block our door tomorrow, accusing us police of assault. We won't be able to explain ourselves then."

Director Zhao also rushed over upon hearing the commotion, and upon seeing the scene, his brows furrowed into a knot.

Fighting would have a negative impact.

If we don't fight them, these thugs will take advantage of us. Where is the authority of the police station?

For a moment, the entire compound fell into an awkward stalemate.

Seeing that no one dared to touch him, the scoundrel became even more arrogant, pointing at everyone's noses and cursing loudly.

"A bunch of cowards! You think you're so great just because you're wearing that uniform? Let me tell you, if you don't release my brother today, I'll eat and sleep here with you, and we'll see who outlasts whom!"

Just as he was cursing the most, a cold, emotionless voice came from the mailroom.

"Get out."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a cold front, instantly silencing the noisy courtyard.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound, only to see the new gatekeeper still leaning back in his wicker chair, holding a newspaper in his hand, without even raising his head.

The scoundrel paused for a moment, then flew into a rage:

"Who the hell do you think you are? A mere gatekeeper dares to challenge me?"

He cursed and wanted to rush into the mailroom to teach this arrogant brat a lesson.

However, just as he lifted his foot, Su Mo finally put down the newspaper, looked up, and glanced at him indifferently.

It was just that one glance.

The scoundrel was struck dumb, frozen in place.

What did he see?

Those weren't just a pair of eyes; they were two mountains of corpses and two seas of blood!

An indescribable aura of terror, like tangible ice water, instantly poured from the top of his head to his heels.

He seemed to see countless wronged souls roaring at him, and the murderous aura condensed from the mountains of corpses and seas of blood froze the blood in his body in an instant.

The effects of the alcohol wore off instantly.

His teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, making a "clucking" sound. His legs went weak, and with a "thud," he knelt down on the ground. A warm liquid quickly spread through his crotch.

"roll."

Su Mo said another word, then lowered his head and continued reading his newspaper.

The scoundrel, as if granted a pardon, scrambled out of the police station, running faster than a rabbit, as if a demon were chasing him.

An eerie silence fell over the entire police station.

Everyone stared in disbelief at the nonchalant figure in the mailroom, their minds blank.

This...that's it?

One look from him and he scared the tough guy from the Black Tiger Gang to death?

Is this the gatekeeper?

This must be the King of Hell!

The atmosphere in the cafeteria was still somewhat oppressive at lunchtime.

Everyone tacitly kept their distance from the table where Su Mo was sitting, occasionally glancing at him with awe.

Just then, the canteen cook, a retired veteran named Zhang Baoguo, came out carrying a pot of freshly cooked braised pork.

He spotted Su Mo sitting alone in the corner at a glance.

The next second, Zhang Baoguo's expression froze.

The iron basin in his hand fell to the ground with a "clatter," spilling braised pork all over the floor.

He didn't care at all, and rushed to Su Mo in three steps, his lips trembling and his eyes instantly reddening.

"Commander...Commander? Is that you, Commander Su?"

Zhang Baoguo was about to kneel down with a "plop".

Su Mo reacted quickly, catching him in her tracks, and frowned as she said:

"Baoguo? What are you doing here?"

"Commander! It really is you!"

Zhang Baoguo was so excited he was incoherent, gripping Su Mo's arm tightly as if afraid he would run away. "Back in Flying Tiger Mountain, if you hadn't carried me out of the enemy lines, I would have been dead! I've been looking for you for years! Waaah..."

A man in his thirties cried like a child.

The others in the cafeteria were completely petrified.

Commander?

Flying Tiger Mountain?

Wasn't that the most brutal and glorious battle fought by our Volunteer Army?

Those who survived from that mountain were all heroes who had survived countless battles.

The way they looked at Su Mo had completely changed.

contempt?

disdain?

Completely vanished!

All that remained was overwhelming shock and awe!

No wonder the director treated him with such respect!

No wonder he could scare thugs to death with just one look!

It turns out that the person they invited back wasn't a gatekeeper, but a war god who had fought his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood!

Zhang Baoguo wiped away his tears, as if remembering something, and said to Su Mo:

"Boss, you'd better be careful. That bastard from the Black Tiger Gang has been acting really tough around here lately, grabbing territory everywhere. He seems to be looking for something, and he's ruthless."