Courtyard House: Ten-year-old Master Zhu reorganizes the entire courtyard

Inside the dilapidated temple, the glow of the oil lamp flickered.

He Daqing placed Mr. Tan's business card on the stone slab that served as a table and recounted the conditions offered by the other party in detail.

He spoke with great enthusiasm, his tone filled with anticipation for the future.

"...Fifty dollars a month! And they'll even arrange accommodation for us in the city! Zhu Zi and Yu Shui can go to school! This is a fantastic opportunity that fell from the sky!"

He looked at his wife and son, anticipating their approval and joy.

Chen Lanxiang held He Yushui, her brows furrowed. She was a traditional woman, not understanding any grand principles, but she believed in one saying: there's no such thing as a free lunch.

"Dad," she said worriedly, "isn't this going a little too smoothly? Why are they being so nice to us for no reason?"

"What do you mean by 'for no reason'?" He Daqing scoffed. "They value my skills! My skills are worth that price!"

He held his head high. Mr. Tan's appreciation restored his former confidence and pride as the head cook at Fengzeyuan.

He looked at He Yuzhu, who had remained silent.

"Pillar, what do you think? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! We won't have to hide in this dilapidated temple anymore!"

He Yuzhu raised his head; under the lamplight, his eyes were clear yet cold.

"I object."

He only said three words.

He Daqing's smile froze.

"What did you say?" He thought he had misheard.

"I object," He Yuzhu repeated, her voice soft but firm, "We can't go."

"Why?!" He Daqing's temper flared up instantly. "With such good conditions, why are you objecting? Do you know how much your mother and sister are suffering here? Do you know how worried I am every day, afraid that Master Hong will come knocking on our door again?"

He became more and more excited as he spoke, and his voice grew louder and louder.

"Now that we finally have a chance to give our whole family a better life, you're saying you won't go?!"

He Yuzhu looked at him calmly, as if he were looking at an unreasonable child.

"Father, have you thought about this? Who is he? A manager of a trading company? Can he casually come up with a monthly salary of fifty US dollars? Can he casually arrange accommodation for us in Beiping? And can he guarantee our safety?"

"That just proves they're capable!" He Daqing argued.

"Are capable people necessarily good people?" He Yuzhu retorted. "If someone with an unclear background offers you a job that seems too good to be true, would you dare to take it? Aren't you afraid that he's not after your skills, but rather wants you to risk your life for that money?"

He Yuzhu's words were like a bucket of cold water poured on He Daqing's heart.

But he was blinded by the generous offer and refused to give it up.

"You're overthinking it!" he said stubbornly. "He's just a businessman who needs a good chef to keep things going! Zhu Zi, you can't let a past mistake make you overly cautious! If you miss an opportunity, you'll never have another one!"

The father and son had their first major argument.

He Daqing felt that his son was too suspicious and timid, and that he would ruin the future of the whole family.

He Yuzhu felt that his father was too naive and short-sighted, and would be dragged into the abyss by immediate interests.

He couldn't articulate his prophetic abilities, nor could he explain the likely identity of someone like Tan Jingyao in Beiping in 1945. He could only repeatedly emphasize the risks.

Chen Lanxiang stood by anxiously, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't know who to help.

In the end, He Yuzhu was the first to calm down.

Arguing won't solve anything.

"Alright," he said, "let's all stop arguing for now. Let's each investigate this Tan Jingyao's background. If he's truly clean and just an ordinary businessman, then we'll go. If his background isn't shady, then let's pretend this never happened."

This suggestion is reasonable.

He Daqing realized he had been somewhat out of line, so he nodded in agreement.

"Okay! Let's do it this way! I'll go back to the city tomorrow and ask my old colleagues at Fengzeyuan for information!"

He thought that as long as he found out that Mr. Tan was a respectable businessman, his son would have nothing to say.

He Yuzhu, on the other hand, has his own channels.

Late at night, he made an excuse to go out to relieve himself and quietly went to the back of the dilapidated temple.

He took out a pen and a piece of paper from the system space.

He wrote down Tan Jingyao's physical characteristics, the details of the black car, and the information on the business card. Then, he folded the note and put it into a small bamboo tube.

The next morning, he sneaked into Beiping again under the pretext of going into the city to buy things.

He arrived at the dead mailbox that Lin Wanqiu had left him—in a crack in the brick wall of a dilapidated courtyard.

He stuffed the bamboo tube in and then plugged it with a piece of broken brick.

Having done all this, he didn't linger and immediately returned.

He knew that Lin Wanqiu's organization possessed powerful intelligence capabilities. Investigating a prominent figure in Beiping should not be difficult.

Meanwhile, He Daqing also secretly returned to the city.

He didn't dare go back to the courtyard house, but went directly to Fengzeyuan.

He found his former best junior classmate, Lao Fang.

The two met in a back alley.

He Daqing told him about Tan Jingyao and asked if he knew the man.

Upon hearing the name "Tan Jingyao," Lao Fang's expression instantly changed.

He pulled He Daqing to a more secluded corner, looked around nervously, and then asked in a low voice, "Senior brother! How did you get involved with him?"

He Daqing's heart skipped a beat: "What...what happened to him?"

"He's not some business manager!" Old Fang's voice trembled. "He's a government official! A member of the Military Intelligence Bureau! Specializing in infiltration and assassinations in the city! Ruthless and vicious, at least eighty or a hundred people have died at his hands!"

Military Intelligence Bureau!

These two words struck He Daqing like a bolt from the blue, leaving him utterly terrified.

Seeing his pale face, Lao Fang added something even more deadly.

"Moreover, I heard... that trading company he mentioned has Japanese shareholders! He's a wolf in sheep's clothing! Senior brother, take my advice, this guy is a devil himself, you absolutely must stay away from him! The further away you are, the better!"

He Daqing could no longer hear what Lao Fang was saying next.

His mind was buzzing, with only the words "Military Intelligence Bureau," "assassination," and "Japanese" remaining.

He broke out in a cold sweat, and the back of his clothes was soaked.

He then realized that Tan Jingyao wasn't interested in his culinary skills at all. Instead, he wanted to use his status as a renowned chef at Fengzeyuan Restaurant to get close to certain individuals and sabotage the banquet!

That's not about becoming a cook, that's about becoming a death squad member who could be silenced at any moment!

He fled Fengzeyuan in a panic, returning to the dilapidated temple in a daze.

Upon entering and seeing He Yuzhu, he immediately knelt down with a thud.

"Zhu Zi... Father was wrong... Father almost killed our whole family!"

He repeated Lao Fang's words through tears.

Chen Lanxiang turned pale upon hearing this, and her hands holding the child trembled.

He Yuzhu helped him up, his face showing no surprise.

Shortly before He Daqing returned, he also received a reply from Lin Wanqiu. The letter was brief: Tan Jingyao, deputy head of the Military Intelligence Bureau's Beiping station action group, is cunning and ruthless. His faction is currently embroiled in serious internal strife and is eager to gain merit. This man is extremely dangerous; it is advised to stay away from him.

The information from the father and son corroborated each other.

The family disagreements vanished instantly.

Everyone agreed: We must refuse!

But a new and more fatal problem has emerged.

Can one easily refuse an olive branch personally extended by the deputy leader of a military intelligence action group, a ruthless secret service chief?

Refusing him would be tantamount to offending him.

How would a secret agent deal with someone who doesn't give him face?

Mr. Tan gave us a three-day deadline, and tomorrow is the last day.

The atmosphere in the dilapidated temple was even more oppressive and desperate than when I faced Master Hong last time.

That time, they were facing a local bully.

This time, they are facing a state's violent machinery that devours people without spitting out the bones.