I feel right at home in the world of the courtyard house.

The smell of alcohol from lunchtime still lingered in Manager Feng's office, and a slight chill seeped in through a cracked window.

Li Jing'an leaned back on the sofa, listening to Manager Feng talk about this, while the cup of tea in his hand was steaming.

"Jing'an, I have something to tell you, it's quite interesting." Manager Feng walked around from behind his desk and sat down next to him. "The enamelware factory that asked you for help a while ago, their Party Secretary and Factory Director have sent someone to contact me again."

Li Jing'an looked up but didn't say anything.

Manager Feng smiled and continued, "They were just telling me that they invited you to dinner before, but the deal didn't go through. I was just chuckling to myself, and thought I'd let you know."

Li Jing'an placed the teacup on the coffee table very gently; the bottom of the cup touched the glass without making a sound.

He truly hadn't expected this. These two had eaten and talked, then immediately turned around and sought other avenues—using two separate methods simultaneously. They asked Li Jing'an for help, then bypassed him and went to Manager Feng, and in the end, they were saying those kinds of things behind his back.

This person truly doesn't understand any rules.

After finishing the meal, Li Jing'an didn't leave but followed Manager Feng back to the office.

Manager Feng refilled his tea, and seeing his expression, smiled and said, "What's wrong? Did you follow me here specifically? Did you not like what those two said?"

Li Jing'an picked up his teacup, his tone surprisingly relaxed: "Old Feng, have you already agreed to increase their meat quotas?"

Manager Feng nodded: "Yes, they went through several connections to get this done, so I couldn't refuse and agreed."

Li Jing'an put down his teacup, looked at him, and spoke frankly: "I'm not stopping you—it's just that these two are too inconsiderate. You shouldn't bother two people for the same thing. If you asked me for help, you should wait patiently for news. Instead, you turn around and switch contacts, and even talk about these things behind my back. We can't let this kind of behavior continue."

Manager Feng understood.

Between friends, when things have come to this point, it's basically asking for a favor. You have to give him that much face.

"Okay, I understand." Manager Feng smiled readily. "Tell me how to do it, and I'll cooperate."

Li Jing'an didn't mince words: "Please stop the promised supply increase for now. And call that middleman again—tell him that the city is currently experiencing a supply shortage, and that the enamel factory's quota will not only not be increased, but will be reduced in some places."

Manager Feng's eyes lit up: "Okay, that's straightforward. We'll do it your way."

Li Jing'an took out the small notebook from his pocket, flipped through a couple of pages, found the enamel factory's phone number, and picked up the phone on Manager Feng's desk to dial the number.

"Hello, connect to the enamel factory."

The call was answered quickly. Upon hearing that it was Li Jing'an, the person's tone was both surprised and polite.

Li Jing'an's voice was calm, as if greeting an old friend: "Director Xu, this is Li Jing'an. I heard from a friend at the food company that your factory's supply issue has been resolved, so I'm calling to congratulate you. I felt quite bad that I couldn't help you much when you contacted me before. It's great that it's resolved now."

The person on the other end of the phone paused for a moment, and Director Xu, completely bewildered, could only laugh it off and say some polite words.

Li Jing'an chatted for a couple more minutes before hanging up.

Factory Director Xu gripped the receiver, increasingly uneasy. The call had come out of nowhere; it sounded like congratulations, but something about it felt off.

Before he could figure it out, a second call came in—it was the middleman who had helped him pull strings, and his voice was distorted:

"Old Xu, it's over! The food company just notified us: the quota increase is cancelled, and they're going to cut the quota too!"

Factory Director Xu's mind went blank for a moment, and he understood everything instantly.

There was no congratulations at all. Li Jing'an simply raised his hand to let him know who was in charge.

He grabbed his hat and rushed toward the secretary's office.

Li Jing'an put down the phone and smiled at Manager Feng: "Thanks, Lao Feng. I owe you a favor this time."

Manager Feng waved his hand: "Do we need to talk about this? Just let me know if you need anything in the future."

After chatting for a few more minutes, Li Jing'an got up to say goodbye.

He rode his bicycle out of the food company gate, the wind blowing into his collar, but he didn't feel cold. Anyone who tried to outsmart him would suffer a minor setback—this principle is timeless.

From afar, you could see Old Wu pacing back and forth against the wall at the entrance of the courtyard. It was unclear how long he had been waiting.

Li Jing'an took out his key and opened the door, his tone indifferent: "How long have you been here? Come in."

Old Wu immediately put on a cautious smile and followed him into the house.

As soon as he entered, he gently placed the cloth bundle he was clutching tightly on the kang table and unpacked it layer by layer. First was the painting by Bada Shanren, its scroll old and its paper worn, clearly a genuine antique. Next, he took out a small brocade box, inside which lay a jade Buddha, its jade warm and lustrous, its patina aged and refined.

"Director Li, I brought everything... Please take a look." Old Wu's voice was strained; he was reluctant to part with it, but dared not show it.

Li Jing'an picked up the painting, casually unfolded it, and glanced at it. He'd seen it before; it was an authentic piece, no doubt about it. He then picked up the jade Buddha, weighed it in his palm, and examined its color and carving against the light. He didn't actually understand it; he was just pretending.

He nodded slightly, his tone calm: "The things are fine. You can go back now, I'll deliver them to Director Yang and the others when I have time."

Old Wu stood motionless, his lips trembling, wanting to speak but not daring to, his eyes filled with suppressed anxiety. He was afraid the matter wouldn't be resolved, afraid the painting would be given away for nothing, and afraid his grandson would have to go to a labor camp again.

Seeing his dawdling manner, Li Jing'an's expression darkened slightly, and his tone became indifferent: "What, don't you trust me? If you're not at ease, pack the things back now. I'm not going to get involved in your grandson's affairs."

Old Wu shuddered in fright, his face turning pale instantly. He waved his hands repeatedly, "No, no! Director Li, I absolutely believe you! I'm just... just anxious."

"Even in a rush, we have to follow the rules." Li Jing'an's tone wasn't harsh, but it was suffocating.

Old Wu dared not say another word, bowing and scraping: "I'll be going, I'll be going! Thank you for your trouble, Director Li!"

After saying that, he practically fled out the door.

The room fell silent. Li Jing'an looked at the painting and jade Buddha on the table, a confident smile playing on his lips.

The painting is real, no problem. But he still doesn't know how much the jade Buddha is worth.

He picked up the jade Buddha and gently stroked it in the light from the window.

I'll have Zhao Wenguang take a good look at it and give him an estimate another day.