Courtyard House: A Start with Black Gold Swallowing 100,000 Silver Dollars

She was nearly seven months pregnant, and her body felt as heavy as if she were carrying a small jar.

I waited until the afternoon.

Wen San, Xiao Jie, Shou Hou, Sun Gang, and several other brothers arrived one after another to report on the battle situation near Lixingshe.

Previously, Li Wenguo had sent them to the rooftop of the tallest building nearby to keep watch with binoculars.

As expected, the special forces team was almost completely wiped out, with only a few survivors hiding in some dark alley in Beijing, barely clinging to life.

If these people hadn't fought desperately, with a fierce determination to drag others down with them, far more than this number would have escaped.

Fearing they might become desperate and indiscriminately kill innocent people, Li Wenguo strictly ordered everyone to stay indoors until the area was completely cleared out before showing their faces.

He then instructed the guards to take turns keeping a close watch on the four corners before leading twenty of his capable men out in a grand procession.

Wen San led two men straight to Yan Ming's small Western-style building and staked out the location.

Xiao Jie led the two men straight to Yao Yao—after several encounters, they had already figured out her strengths and weaknesses; with her meager skills, she couldn't even withstand three moves, so they simply captured her alive.

Li Wenguo himself led the main force straight to the new Rizhao Photo Studio.

He had it all figured out: he had to get his hands on the negatives of those municipal leaders. If he submitted the evidence, they'd be immediately summoned for questioning by the Party Affairs Investigation Department, and their jobs would be ruined.

It's better to keep it in your own hands; you can attack or defend as needed.

Before long, the group arrived at the photo studio.

Fish Head was squatting here before dawn.

"Master Li, you've arrived." He bowed and nodded to Li Wenguo, Ding Xiaoqi, and Sun Gang, while the rest of the people remained scattered under the shade of the trees across the street, keeping a low profile.

"Hmm, what's going on inside? Is it just Zhao Xiaoye?"

"Yes, just him alone."

"But a postman just delivered a package, dropped it off, and left."

The fish head was poured into a bamboo tube, and all the beans spilled out.

"Alright, the three of you go in and take him. But remember, he might be carrying a gun, and the area under the counter might not be clean."

After giving his instructions, Li Wenguo paused and added a sentence.

He cherishes his life very much and would never use himself as bait.

"Alright, Mr. Li!"

The three whispered a few words and then pushed open the door to enter.

About five minutes later, Liu Shouhou pushed open the door and gave Li Wenguo a "done" gesture.

Inside the room, Zhao Xiaoye was bound hand and foot to a rattan chair, with a wad of old cloth stuffed in his mouth.

He made a "woo-woo" sound in his throat, but couldn't utter a single word.

Li Wenguo nodded to the skinny monkey, and as soon as the cloth was pulled out, Zhao Xiaoye erupted in chaos:

"Are you crazy? This is kidnapping! It's illegal!"

"Untie yourself now! Otherwise, the police will handcuff you all tomorrow!"

"Tsk tsk, what a pity—you don't have a tomorrow."

Li Wenguo smirked and shook his head.

Then, he abruptly changed the subject: "I saw through you a long time ago, you're a Japanese spy."

"Japanese spy? Nonsense! You've arrested the wrong person!"

"I'm not like that at all! I'm completely innocent!"

Zhao Xiaoye shouted until his face turned red and his neck bulged, his voice cracking.

He acted like he'd been framed without missing a beat: anxiety, panic, grievance, and pleading were layered on his face, and there wasn't a trace of guilt in his eyes.

No wonder Japanese spies are so hard to catch; with acting skills alone, Hollywood should give them a lifetime achievement award.

"Ha, still stubborn even when death is imminent?"

"Just wait and see how you deny it then!"

"You guys keep a close eye on him, don't let him try anything funny."

After saying that, Li Wenguo turned around and walked towards the film processing room.

Zhao Xiaoye's heart sank, but his face tightened even more, his eyes filled with the grievance and resentment of being wronged—as if he were absolutely innocent without any evidence.

Li Wenguo entered the film processing room and quickly moved aside the old wooden cabinet that was blocking the corner of the wall.

The cabinet wasn't heavy, weighing only about fifty pounds when lifted, but with people loitering outside, he held back a bit, not daring to use his hidden skills for fear of revealing his weakness.

When the hidden compartment was opened, everything inside was neatly arranged, nothing was missing, and there was even one extra item.

"Huh? There's something else here? When did they put it in?"

He casually pulled it out and weighed it in his hand—it was hard, square, and made of metal. Looking further, he saw another piece underneath, making a total of two.

"Could it be gold bars? Whatever, I'll keep them for now."

He took the photos along with him. But as soon as he turned around, a thought struck him: what if Zhao Xiaoye couldn't withstand the torture and spilled everything? What would happen to all the things I took? They're not cash, how could I underreport a few dollars?

"Forget it, I'm pretty familiar with Chang Binghui anyway, I can just return it to him as is later."

He made up his mind.

He then pulled out a radio, a codebook, the secret operation order, and the hand-drawn map, turned around, went back to the interrogation room, and slammed the items on the table: "An ordinary citizen, hiding a radio at home, memorizing codes, and carrying an operation map? Do you think I'm a three-year-old?"

"Tell me, which line of Japanese spy are you on?"

Zhao Xiaoye stared at the physical evidence, his lips moved but he didn't say anything. He just lowered his eyes and sat stiffly, like a piece of wood with its tendons removed.

"You're finished! Get ready for torture—branding iron, bamboo skewers, chili water, nothing will be spared, we'll rip every last drop out of you!"

Li Wenguo took a half-step forward with a cold smile.

Zhao Xiaoye suddenly looked up, her eyes burning like two flames, her teeth clenched so tightly they made a grinding sound.

Before he could even utter a word, blood and foam suddenly welled up from the corner of his mouth, his head lolled to the side, and he went limp.

"Master Li has passed away."

Liu Shouhou reached out and touched the side of his neck, replying in a low voice.

Oh--

I almost forgot, these people all have poison pills hidden in their molars!

Hehe, he died at just the right time.

Once the item is in my pocket, no one can trace its origin.

Li Wenguo remained calm and ordered Sun Gang to stay and guard the body, while he instructed Yu Tou to immediately investigate the background of the mailman. He then led Ding Xiaoqi and the others straight to Yan Ming's villa.

From afar, you could see Wen San and two others squatting in the shadows of the trees at the street corner, their eyes fixed on the building entrance.

"Is the person still inside?"

Li Wenguo asked in a low voice.

He had expected this – the special forces had just taken down the Lixing Society, and Yan Ming, a seasoned veteran, would definitely stay home and not go out, which was the safest option.

Wen San nodded: "Yes, Master Li."

"Okay, you guys do it. Remember, watch out for him biting the poison, and don't let him commit suicide."

"clear!"

Wen San knew exactly what was going on, even better than Li Wenguo at dealing with this kind of person, but as a subordinate, he had to hide half of his sharpness.

He quickly selected ten people: a few to block the front and back windows and the back alley, and the remaining five to follow him straight to the front door and knock on it.

Li Wenguo retreated to a hundred meters away under an old locust tree, standing with his hands in his pockets—he never got involved in real combat.

What if the other side is carrying a melon grenade?

Sure enough, a few minutes later, two gunshots shattered the silence inside the small villa.

"Thank goodness I didn't go in..."

He quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Immediately afterwards, two muffled thuds, "Boom!" and "Boom!", rang out, shaking the windowpanes and bringing the gunfire to an abrupt halt.

Ding Xiaoqi ran over, covered in dust, and wiped his face: "We caught him, but... he's dead."

It's only clean when you're dead.

The things I took, no one can match them up anymore.

Of course, there's also Yao Yao.

But Li Wenguo had already figured it out—she was just a decoration, a vase used to seduce people, and she could never get her hands on any secrets.

Even if she knew something, she could simply return it to Chang Binghui later, and the favor would still be repaid.

When he entered the house and went up to the second floor, he saw a mess everywhere: the walls were riddled with bullet holes, dust was falling from the cracks in the ceiling, and broken bricks were scattered all over the floor.

"Liu Wei couldn't be saved."

Wen San squatted beside the corpse, his voice deep and heavy.

Li Wenguo bent down and saw that Liu Wei had two bloody holes in his chest, was lying on his back, and his eyes were still open.

The other two also fell to the ground, one with his arm hanging in a sling, covered in blood, and the other with a large gash on the outside of his thigh, his trouser leg completely stained red.

"This Yan Ming... he's really got some skills?"

Li Wenguo was stunned.

They took down one and knocked down two as soon as they met?

"No, he had three booklets hidden in his house, which we found on the spot, and that's when we started to take action."

"Those three booklets are no ordinary ones. They're probably remnants of the special forces that raided Lixingshe this morning—in just one exchange of fire, one of our men fell and two were killed! If Ding Xiaoqi hadn't had two grenades in his pocket, they probably wouldn't even be left as ashes."

Wen San wiped the dust off his face, his voice tight.

As soon as Yan Ming opened the door and saw people, he turned and dashed upstairs to the second floor. They chased after him and had just stepped into the second-floor corridor when suddenly a burst of bullets came flying from a room. Liu Wei, who was at the front, didn't even have time to react before he fell to the ground.

The other two were also shot and covered in blood; only Ding Xiaoqi and Wen San, who were lagging behind, managed to dodge and escaped being shot.

Seeing that the firepower inside the house was fierce and accurate, Wen San and his two other brothers immediately pressed down on the door and swept the door open. Ding Xiaoqi seized the opportunity and shoved two grenades into the crack of the door. With two loud bangs, everyone in the house, including Yan Ming, was blown to pieces.

"So you really are from special forces... No wonder you were having such a hard time."

Li Wenguo's brow twitched as he listened. The regular army was truly formidable; no matter how skilled Wen San and his men were, they were no match for these desperate criminals.

"Next time we arrest someone, we need to bring plenty of grenades!"

"Right, why not just bring a few machine guns over there—the plaster will be torn off the walls, let's see where he can hide and act tough then!"

"Master Li, grenades require approval, and machine guns are even more precious. The entire Lixing Society only has a few, and they are only issued for major operations."

Wen San shook his head with a wry smile.

"It's alright, I'll pay for it myself. I'll prepare a box of grenades for you, plus two, no, three heavy machine guns!"

Li Wenguo waved his hand dismissively.

The military equipment he kept hidden away in his storage space hadn't been touched in years; it was piled up in boxes and boxes. The heavy machine guns alone could be stacked up to form a screen, and the number of light machine guns was countless.

"No way! No way! If a heavy machine gun goes off, the floors will collapse. We're not demolishing houses—a light machine gun is the best we can do!"

Wen San waved his hands repeatedly, sweat beading on his forehead.

My master is indeed very rich, but who would have thought that he would start by mentioning heavy machine guns, a god-like killing machine? That's too fierce!

"Alright, then five light machine guns it is."

"Load ten more rapid-fire submachine guns."

Li Wenguo did not hesitate at all.

"Thank you, Master Li!"

Wen San bowed and clasped his hands in greeting, his voice becoming noticeably louder.

How spacious!

"Yes, keep a close eye on Aunt Dong, don't let her lose a single hair."

"Don't worry, Master Li! As long as we're still alive, Aunt Dong will never be harmed!"

Wen San patted his chest, each word resounding like a thunderclap.

"Send the wounded to the hospital first, then search the area immediately!"

Both wounded soldiers are now official agents of the Lixingshe (Powerful Action Society). Medical expenses? Someone will naturally cover them…

Half an hour later, the entire villa was almost turned upside down—the floorboards were pried open, the plaster was peeled off, and the ceiling was chiseled through. In the end, all that was found was a pile of hard currency: silver dollars, gold bars, US dollars, British pounds, and a few scrolls of calligraphy and paintings.

But based solely on the fact that he harbored remnants of special forces, Yan Ming's identity as a Japanese spy was already a foregone conclusion.

Li Wenguo, however, remained uneasy. He always felt uncertain about the "ironclad evidence" Chang Binghui spoke of—what if he insisted he was coerced?

He walked alone into a room, and came out a moment later, steadily holding a radio in his hand.

It's done! Now, even if there's no way to prove it, they have to admit it!

"Huh? There's a radio station too?"

"Mr. Li, why did you spot it at first glance?"

Wen San's eyes lit up, and he blurted it out.

The house had been ransacked, as if it had been chewed up by a dog, and even the rat holes had been dug out three times. So why did it act like Li Ye was being held hostage as soon as he went in?

"Hmph, this is my unique skill—want to learn? You'll have to train your eyesight for three years first!"

Li Wenguo raised his chin, looking smug and self-important.

"Hehe, Wen San's eyesight is probably better than Master Li's even if he practiced for thirty years."

He scratched his head, smiled憨厚ly, and then casually scooped up another handful.

"Has the money been counted?"

Li Wenguo squatted down, staring at the pile of colorful bills on the ground, his eyes shining.

Who doesn't want money burning their hands?

"Mr. Li, if you convert it all to silver dollars, it will be a little over 300,000."

"The calligraphy and paintings haven't been included yet."

"Damn, those who run businesses really make a killing!"

Li Wenguo spat, but couldn't help but grin.