Courtyard House: I only wiped out 30,000 Japanese pirates

Lou Bancheng now lives in a Western-style building, which is very beautiful.

The two-story villa has red brick walls, a pointed roof, stained glass windows, and a small garden in front of the entrance.

Amidst the ruins and gray bricks of the city, this building stands out as an anomaly, its cleanliness seemingly a world apart from the smoke and bloodshed outside.

For propaganda purposes, the Japanese did not confiscate all of Lou Bancheng's properties, but left him this villa.

To put it bluntly, it was just a show for foreigners and residents of Beijing, especially for the merchants from Great Xia who were still observing, to show that by cooperating with the Imperial Army, they could still make a living.

But how long this situation can last, nobody knows.

Lou Bancheng probably counts down this countdown every day too.

He Dajun walked to the door with a wooden stick and patted the door twice.

The door was opened by an old butler in his fifties, wearing a faded blue cotton long gown. When he saw a lame man in a puppet army uniform standing at the door, his face immediately changed.

He Dajun didn't waste any words with him, gave his name, and said that Mr. Sasaki had sent him to see Mr. Lou. The butler didn't dare to be negligent, bowed and said, "Mr. He, please wait a moment," before hurriedly turning and going into the inner room.

Not long after, the housekeeper returned and bowed to invite He Dajun into the living room.

The living room was large, but the crystal chandelier on the ceiling was not lit. The window was half open, and the light shining through shone on the dark red leather sofa, making the room appear dark and somber.

There was a faint musty smell in the air, mixed with the smell of old books and furniture wax.

This building looks gleaming, but the people living inside probably haven't opened their windows in a long time and can't sleep.

Lou Bancheng sat on the sofa, wearing a dark gray silk robe, his hair neatly combed, looking very glamorous.

But upon closer inspection, her complexion was very poor.

Lou Bancheng had two dark circles under his eyes, his cheekbones were more prominent than when he was last seen at the steel mill, and the flesh on his chin was loose. He looked like a tree that had been pulled out of the ground and left to dry for several days.

His fingers rested on the sofa armrest, his knuckles slightly purple. When he saw He Dajun come in, his fingers clenched instinctively for a moment, then immediately relaxed.

He naturally recognized this traitorous dog.

He clearly remembered the way He Dajun extorted money from him when Sasaki called him to the steel mill last time.

Later, when they were attacked at the gate of the steel mill, this guy was almost blown up. He even lay down next to it and muttered a curse.

Now, this man, dressed in the uniform of a puppet army soldier and with a pistol without a holster at his waist, swaggered into his living room as if he were returning to his own home.

But Lou Bancheng showed no displeasure.

He stood up and bowed slightly to He Dajun, a polite but distant smile on his face: "Mr. He, it's an honor to have you here. Please have a seat."

He Dajun didn't sit down. He stood in the middle of the living room, leaning on a wooden cane, his tone carrying a hint of condescension and indifference: "Mr. Lou, Mr. Sasaki sent me to ask you, when exactly do you plan to postpone the maintenance at the steel mill?"

"The Japanese officer said that you are not cooperating at all, and his patience is running out. If you don't cooperate with the Imperial Army obediently, you'll be dead."

The last four words were squeezed out through clenched teeth, the sound not loud, but it hit the living room like a stone being thrown into a pool.

Lou Bancheng's face flushed red, and he stood there without moving.

He took a deep breath, his voice calm and steady, trying to sound like he wasn't angry: "Mr. He, you've misunderstood. It's not that I'm uncooperative, it's that I'm really out of money. I had already invested a large sum of money before the factory was demolished. Now that the factory is gone, I've lost everything, and I'm really strapped for cash."

He Dajun took a step forward, leaning on his wooden stick, and got a little closer to Lou Bancheng.

His voice was lowered, but his tone was even colder, as if two old acquaintances were having a casual chat.

But the content of their conversation sent chills down one's spine: "Mr. Lou, let me be frank with you. If you don't pay up soon, the Imperial Army will settle accounts with you. Your whole family will be arrested as resistance fighters."

"You wouldn't want to see your wife and daughter sent to serve the Imperial Army, would you?"

Lou Bancheng felt all the blood rush to his head and then back to his feet.

He looked at He Dajun's smiling face, his lips trembling, his fingertips trembling, even his knees were shaking.

He had been in the business world for decades, and had heard all sorts of harsh words and seen all kinds of situations, but no one had ever dared to threaten him with his wife and daughters in his own living room.

This is absolutely outrageous!

But now he doesn't dare to utter a single curse.

If we curse them, the Japanese will have an excuse.

He could only endure it, clenching his teeth until they creaked and digging his nails into his palms, using the pain to remind himself not to lose control.

Lou Bancheng took a deep breath and then slowly nodded: "I understand. I will find a way to raise more money and send it to the factory as soon as possible."

He Dajun looked at Lou Bancheng, who was backed into a corner and had to force a smile. His face was expressionless, but in his mind, he calculated the predicament of this richest man in Beijing.

Whether Lou Bancheng truly lacked money or simply didn't want to pay is irrelevant. What matters is that Sasaki was pressuring him, and He Dajun was also pressuring him, but their motives were different.

He suddenly spoke again, his tone light and casual, as if he had suddenly remembered something insignificant: "Mr. Lou, I can't have come all this way for nothing. You have to give me some kind of reward, otherwise I'll be very unhappy."

Lou Bancheng was stunned. There were people like this?

He looked at He Dajun, his mind racing.

This traitor actually dared to openly solicit bribes from him in his own living room; his audacity knows no bounds.

His anger burned even brighter, but a thought suddenly surfaced beneath it: if He Dajun was this greedy, perhaps he could kill him. Anyone willing to take money had leverage over him, and leverage could lead to his elimination.

At this moment, Lou Bancheng felt that no matter how much money it cost, he had to find a way to drag this traitor down with him, or even kill him.

He genuinely felt that while the Japanese devils were despicable, these traitors were even more so.

Thinking of this, a smile appeared on Lou Bancheng's face.

He nodded to He Dajun, his tone becoming polite and attentive: "Mr. He, what are you saying? You've gone to so much trouble, how could I let you come for nothing? Please come to the study with me, let's talk alone."

Looking at the smile that suddenly appeared on Lou Bancheng's face, He Dajun felt for some reason that Lou Bancheng might have ill intentions and wanted to do something bad to him.

But he didn't take it seriously and followed Lou Bancheng into the study.

The study is much smaller than the living room, but it is decorated very tastefully.

All four walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, filled with thread-bound books and hardcover foreign books, the gilded titles on the spines gleaming dimly in the yellowish lamplight.

Lou Bancheng closed the door, walked to the desk, stopped, and turned to look at He Dajun.

The moment the door closed, Lou Bancheng's expression changed.

The smile was no longer the polite and distant one from before; it now sounded somewhat flattering as he asked, "Mr. He, could you please put in a good word for me?"

He then took out a small yellow croaker.

Lou Bancheng, who was in a great mood upon seeing He Dajun's subordinates, hoped that He Dajun would ask him for a little more.

Unexpectedly, He Dajun smiled as he held the small yellow croaker, then stared into Lou Bancheng's eyes.

It gave ordinary people the creeps.

He spoke after a dozen seconds, his voice low: "Boss Lou, last time I threw a grenade behind you, killing so many Japanese soldiers, did you ever suspect that it was me?"

Lou Bancheng felt as if he had been hit on the head with a stick.

His pupils contracted sharply, his mouth opened and closed, and his fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly.

He Dajun's words were truly earth-shattering.