Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

Sun Desheng spent three days in the detention center and confessed to two more places.

When Lao Zhou showed the record to He Yuzhu, he pointed to one of the lines.

"The steel mill warehouse. He said he went in once, stole two small motors, and sold them as scrap."

He Yuzhu was stunned for a moment.

"A steel rolling mill?"

Old Zhou nodded.

"The date was the 18th of last month. Do you remember it?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment. He was in Tianjin on the 18th of last month.

"I don't recall. But the warehouse isn't under my jurisdiction."

Old Zhou put down the record.

"I had someone check, and the warehouse said nothing was missing."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

He remembered the technical documents. The oxygen top-blowing scheme and the formula for the special alloy were both locked in the safe in his office. Only he had the key to the safe.

But what about the warehouse...?

He read the record again.

"Old Zhou, I'm going to the factory."

There weren't many people in the factory in the afternoon.

He Yuzhu went straight to the warehouse. Old Li, the warehouse keeper, was somewhat surprised to see him.

"Deputy Factory Director He, what brings you here?"

He Yuzhu waved his hand.

"Just browsing."

The warehouse was dimly lit, and it took him a while for his eyes to adjust. He walked to the row of cabinets storing technical documents, inserted the key, opened them, and flipped through the files inside.

They're all there.

He was about to turn around when he caught a glimpse of the window out of the corner of his eye. It was an old-fashioned wooden-framed glass window, and the latch was a little loose—he walked over, reached out and pushed it, and the latch moved.

He crouched down, his gaze falling on the windowsill.

There were a few shallow marks in the dust, like those from shoe soles. They weren't very obvious, but you could see them if you looked closely.

He stared at the marks, without moving.

Then he stood up, walked out of the warehouse, and went to the security office.

The security personnel said that Old Li was on duty on the night of the 18th of last month. He Yuzhu found Old Li and asked him if anything unusual happened that night.

Old Li thought about it.

"No, everything is normal."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

Are you sure?

Old Li's eyes flickered, and his hand unconsciously rubbed against his pants.

"I'm... sure." The voice was a little lower than before.

He Yuzhu didn't ask any more questions.

Back in his office, he closed the door, opened the safe, and took out the formula for the special alloy.

The recipe was handwritten by him, wrapped in paper, and placed at the very back.

He flipped through it.

When he turned to the third page, his hand paused for a moment.

The page number is incorrect.

He remembered a piece of data on the third page, which he copied twice to avoid making a mistake. Now, next to that data, there's a half-pencil mark—not his handwriting.

He flipped through the recipe again and again, making sure that only that one spot had been touched.

He folded the paper, put it back in the safe, and locked it.

Then he sat in the chair and didn't move.

If this formula is lost, all the hard work the factory has put in over the past few years will be wasted.

He clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

The warehouse window, the loose latch, Old Li on duty, the documents that had been tampered with.

It wasn't stealing.

It's stealing technology.

Old Sun arrived very quickly.

He stared at the recipe for a long time before looking up.

"Are you sure it's been tampered with?"

He Yuzhu nodded.

"The page number is wrong. There are also pencil marks."

Old Sun put down the recipe and lit a cigarette.

"They came for your skills."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Old Sun took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled.

"Sun Desheng isn't an ordinary thief. He has connections. That person tells him to steal from cadres' homes, to steal from the factory warehouse, and to steal technical documents—it's a whole network."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

"That guy with the southern accent?"

Old Sun nodded.

"Most likely. Sun Desheng said he only met that person once, paid him, and asked him to do something. This kind of method is typical of professional intelligence gathering."

He stood up and walked to the window.

"This matter is no longer under the jurisdiction of the local police station. The State Security Bureau has taken over."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Old Sun turned around and looked at him.

"How many people are still eyeing your recipe?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment.

"have no idea."

Old Sun remained silent for a while.

Have any strangers come to the factory recently?

He Yuzhu was stunned for a moment.

"There is one."

Old Sun waited for him to continue.

"A foreign journalist. He came last week, saying he was there to interview about the factory's technological innovations. He was received by Factory Director Yang, but I didn't see him."

Old Sun leaned forward slightly.

"What's your name?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment.

"I forgot. It was something like... Smith? Or something."

Old Sun didn't say anything, and picked up the phone.

The phone call lasted half an hour.

When Lao Sun put down the microphone, a look of seriousness appeared between his brows.

"That man's name is William Carter, a British journalist. He's taking the train to Guangzhou tomorrow afternoon, and then he'll leave the country."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

"Is it him?"

Old Sun shook his head.

"Not necessarily. But he's a suspect. He interviewed the steel rolling mill, met with Director Yang, and asked about technical matters. The timing also matches up."

He Yuzhu stood up.

I'll go and meet him.

Old Sun stopped him.

"No. You're a key person; you can't show your face. We'll handle this."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

"When will you make your move?"

Old Sun glanced at his watch.

"Tomorrow morning. We already have people watching his hotel."

When He Yushui returned home that evening, she found herself squatting in the yard washing vegetables. Hearing footsteps, she looked up.

"Brother, you don't look well."

He Yuzhu didn't reply. He walked over, squatted down next to her, and looked at the vegetables in the bowl.

"Where's Grandma?"

"They're waiting inside."

He Yuzhu nodded, stood up, and walked into the house.

As he reached the door, he glanced back.

At the entrance of the alley, the streetlights cast a dim yellow glow. Several people finishing their night shifts rode by on bicycles, their bells ringing twice before they quickly disappeared into the depths of the alley.

What will happen to that reporter named Carter tomorrow morning?

he does not know.

But he knew that the battle was not over yet.