Courtyard House: A Veteran Returns Home and Becomes a Father

The sirens of the ambulances and the sounds of the police cars leaving receded like the tide.

The street in front of Jiaodaokou Police Station was quickly swept clean, as if the bloody conflict had never happened.

The faint smell of blood in the air, and the few dark stains on the ground that hadn't been washed away, reminded everyone that eight burly men had just been lying there, crippled.

The news spread throughout the entire alley in an instant.

The courtyard at No. 95, Nantongluo Lane, was eerily quiet.

Every household's doors and windows were tightly shut, but behind every curtain, pairs of terrified eyes secretly and reverently gazed at the heavy solid wood gate of the east courtyard.

No one in the courtyard dared to have any other thoughts anymore.

Previously, they thought Su Mo was just a formidable and dangerous figure.

Now they knew that it was a god, or rather, a demon, walking among humans.

A single thought can determine life or death.

The Intermediate People's Court, at Yi Zhonghai's home.

He sat at the octagonal table with a gloomy face, the teacup in his hand long since cold.

His meticulously planned scheme to use Qin Huairu as a tool to disgust Su Mo has become a complete joke.

He originally thought that by controlling Qin Huairu, he had the same idea as controlling the Jia family and thus taking control of his retirement in the courtyard.

But Su Mo's superhuman skills that afternoon instilled in him a sense of powerless fear from the bottom of his heart.

For the first time, he truly realized that all the scheming, power plays, and moral blackmail he had used for decades in the hospital were as fragile as a thin sheet of paper in the face of Su Mo's absolute strength.

His prized fitter skills and his meticulously planned retirement schemes were utterly insignificant compared to the other man's ability to manipulate events at will.

A flame, a mixture of jealousy, resentment, and deep fear, burned in his chest.

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his flesh, but he felt no pain whatsoever.

……

Unlike the oppressive atmosphere inside the main courtyard, the east wing of the courtyard is peaceful and serene.

Su Mo had already calmed his wife and daughter down. Xia Wanqing was holding a bowl of hot ginger soup and feeding the still somewhat frightened Nian Nian small sips.

Su Mo sat in the armchair in the main room, his fingers lightly tapping the table, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

He knew that this matter was far from over.

That so-called "treasure map of a former dynasty prince" was a bomb thrown into a calm lake.

The Black Tiger Gang, these low-level thugs, were just the first wave of small fry exposed by the bombing.

Beneath the seemingly calm surface of Beijing, who knows how many real crocodiles are lurking.

For the sake of his family's peace, he had to cut off all those outstretched claws before they posed a threat.

Late at night.

Just as Su Mo was about to turn off the lights and rest, there was a gentle knock on the courtyard gate.

The knocking was soft and hesitant, carrying a hint of probing and nervousness.

"Tap, tap tap."

Su Mo raised an eyebrow, signaling Xia Wanqing to stay inside and not move, while he got up, walked over and opened the door.

Standing outside the door was the skinny owner of the antique shop from that afternoon.

The old man had changed into clean clothes, but the handprint on his face was still clearly visible. He was carrying a long, narrow object wrapped tightly in cloth, and looked at Su Mo with a nervous expression.

"Comrade Su... Comrade Su Mo." The old man's voice trembled slightly.

"Is something the matter?" Su Mo's tone was very calm.

"I...can I go in and talk? Just a few words." The old man looked at him pleadingly, his eyes filled with fear and unease.

Su Mo looked at him for a few seconds, then stepped aside to let him into the courtyard.

In the main room, Su Mo poured him a cup of hot tea.

The old man held the teacup in both hands, as if trying to draw some warmth from it. He didn't drink it, and remained silent for a long time before finally speaking as if he had made up his mind.

"Comrade Su Mo, my surname is Bai, and my name is Bai Jingting. Thank you for your help this afternoon."

After saying that, he stood up and was about to bow to Su Mo.

"Sit down and talk," Su Mo stopped him. "You came to see me not just to thank me, right?"

Bai Jingting sat down again, a wry smile on his face: "Nothing can be hidden from you."

He placed the cloth bag on the table and carefully untied it.

Inside was a yellowed scroll made of some kind of animal hide.

"This is the map they're looking for," Bai Jingting said in a very low voice, "but it's not a treasure map."

"Oh?" Su Mo raised an eyebrow with interest.

"To be precise, this is only one-third of the picture." Bai Jingting sighed and began to reveal the secret behind it.

His ancestor was the chief steward of the Imperial Household Department of a prince in the previous dynasty. The prince had a premonition that the Qing Dynasty was doomed, so he secretly transferred countless rare treasures that his family had amassed over generations, along with a list of overseas assets that could shake the political landscape, in three separate routes.

The maps to unlock these three treasures were divided into three parts and entrusted to three of the most trusted confidants for safekeeping.

The Bai family is one of them.

"This list doesn't just contain gold and silver treasures," Bai Jingting's eyes became extremely solemn. "More importantly, it records a large amount of assets that prince transferred overseas through foreign banks back then. Once that list is exposed, it will have far-reaching implications."

"As far as I know, the Black Tiger Gang is backed by a ruthless figure who recently came from Tianjin. They should have another third of the map. As for the last map, its whereabouts are unknown."

After listening, Su Mo finally understood.

No wonder the Black Tiger Gang only harassed them instead of going all out. They also needed the piece of the puzzle that Bai Jingting possessed.

"So you came here today to throw this hot potato at me?" Su Mo toyed with the animal skin picture, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger.

Bai Jingting's face turned pale instantly. He quickly stood up and bowed again.

"No! I dare not!" he said urgently. "If this map stays with me, it will only bring disaster sooner or later. It's no loss if I die, but I don't want the things passed down from my ancestors to fall into the hands of those bandits."

"I have come here today to present this painting to you. You are a pillar of the nation, a true hero. Only in your hands will it remain untarnished and not be exploited by petty people."

"I have only one request," Bai Jingting's voice was tinged with pleading, "Please, spare my life. I just want to live out my remaining years peacefully, tending to my little shop."

Su Mo looked at him without saying a word.

He had absolutely no interest in any treasures or overseas assets.

But this thing has already threatened the peaceful life of his family.

Rather than letting it cause bloodshed outside, it's better to keep it in our own hands.

"I'll take the map." Su Mo put away the animal hide scroll. "From now on, no one will bother your shop anymore."

Upon receiving Su Mo's promise, Bai Jingting felt as if he had been granted a pardon. Overwhelmed with emotion, he burst into tears and thanked Su Mo profusely before leaving with deepest gratitude.

After seeing Bai Jingting off, Su Mo looked at the picture in his hand, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

It seems I need to find an opportunity to meet that ruthless character from Tianjin.

Foreshadowing

The next day, Su Mo went to the police station to "work" as usual.

The way people in the institute looked at him had changed from curiosity and disdain to pure awe and worship.

Director Zhao Weiguo treated that mailroom as a sacred place, strictly forbidding anyone from disturbing it.

However, around 10 a.m., a black Volga sedan quietly pulled up in front of the police station.

This car is even more impressive than Jiang Chao's military jeep.

A middle-aged man wearing a sharp Zhongshan suit and gold-rimmed glasses stepped out of the car. He had a stern expression and a refined demeanor, but his brows revealed an air of authority that came from someone who had long held a high position.

He walked straight into Zhao Weiguo's office without saying hello to anyone.

When Zhao Weiguo saw the person who came, he was so frightened that he almost fell off his chair.

Without a word, the man took a red-headed document from his briefcase and placed it on the table.

Zhao Weiguo only glanced at the seal on it, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"I'm here to ask only one question." The man adjusted his glasses, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable pressure. "What happened with that 'fight' on the street yesterday?"

Zhao Weiguo stammered as he recited the prepared explanation of "a kind-hearted citizen's act of bravery."

The man listened quietly, offering no comment.

After Zhao Weiguo finished speaking, he slowly said, "The antique shop owner's name is Bai Jingting, right?"

Zhao Weiguo's heart skipped a beat.

"There are some things that are not for units at your level to deal with." The man stood up, walked to the door, then stopped, turned around, and glanced casually in the direction of the mailroom.

"Go back and tell that 'helpful citizen' not to reach out too far."

After saying that, he opened the car door, and the Volga sedan quietly drove away, as if it had never existed.

In the office, Zhao Weiguo slumped in his chair, the back of his clothes completely soaked with cold sweat.

He knew that the city of Beijing was about to undergo a major upheaval.

The eye of the storm was right there in his small police station.