Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

Led by two guides, Zhao Ping'an and his group walked through several increasingly deserted streets and finally stopped in front of a mansion with high walls and green tiles.

The storefront isn't overly ostentatious, but through the tightly closed vermilion gate and the pair of sturdy stone drums in front of it, one can still glimpse the inner strength and wealth.

This is the Lou Mansion, also known as Lou Bancheng—one of Lou Zhenhua's residences in Beiping.

Liu Dazhu stepped forward and knocked on the door knocker. After a while, the side door creaked open a crack.

A middle-aged man, dressed in a cotton robe and with a clean-cut face, who looked like a butler, poked his head out. His gaze swept over the group of soldiers outside the door, who were dressed in worn-out military uniforms and looked pale.

His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, and his tone carried its usual aloofness and wariness:

"Sir, what brings you here? My master is visiting friends today and is not at home. Please leave."

That was a polite way of saying it, but the intention to get rid of them couldn't be clearer. In these chaotic times, when soldiers come knocking, it's usually nothing good; you should get rid of them if you can.

Zhao Ping'an seemed not to understand the excuse in those words. He stepped forward and looked calmly at the butler:

"I am Zhao Ping'an, the younger brother of Zhao Dongliang, the acting commander of the newly formed 6th Regiment of the 101st Division of the 35th Army. I have important business to discuss with Mr. Lou, so please inform me."

A hint of impatience flashed in the butler's eyes, but his title of "commander" still made him soften his tone slightly:

"So you're Commander Zhao's younger brother. My apologies. But the master is indeed not here. You see..."

"Not here?" Zhao Ping'an chuckled softly, but there was little warmth in his smile.

He suddenly raised his hand, took off the old Mauser pistol from his waist, and handed it, along with its holster, to Liu Dazhu behind him.

Then he gestured to the other two soldiers who looked the strongest: "You two, leave your weapons here too."

Under the butler's astonished gaze, Zhao Ping'an straightened his collar and said to the rest of the people:

"Dazhu, take the brothers and wait outside. Zhuzi, Shuanzi, you two come in with me. Remember, empty-handed."

After saying that, without waiting for the butler's reaction, he reached out and pushed open the half-closed side door.

He barged in with two soldiers who, though unarmed, still stood tall!

"Oh! Sir! You can't..." The steward was both shocked and angry, wanting to stop them but not daring to actually move his hand to stop these thugs.

Zhao Ping'an walked without stopping, passing through the gatehouse courtyard and heading straight towards what appeared to be the main hall. His voice was low, but it carried clearly back:

Commander Zhao and Zhao Baoguo, the commander of our 3rd Regiment of the 101st Division, are sworn brothers. They are both direct subordinates of Commander Fu. Our 3rd Regiment is now guarding the West Gate!

They're all on our side, on our side! Platoon Leader Zhao is young and impetuous, but he's definitely not here to cause trouble. He really has something important to discuss with Mr. Lou.

Your outburst has alarmed the higher-ups, damaged the harmony, and is bad for Mr. Lou and for both of us, the commanders, isn't it?"

These words, though seemingly gentle, were actually quite firm, both alluding to Zhao Ping'an's background and hinting at the potential consequences.

The anger on the butler's face was gradually replaced by surprise and uncertainty.

He took another look at the soldiers outside the door, who, though disheveled, were still standing relatively neatly, and pondered the old soldier's words again.

If he really is the younger brother of the two regimental commanders... it seems that he can't be simply dismissed as an ordinary troublemaker.

His eyes flickered for a moment, then he waved for the servant who was about to report the news to stop. He straightened his clothes and put on a slightly solemn yet somewhat forced smile:

"I see... I was blind. Gentlemen, please wait a moment, I'll go in and inform them again."

He emphasized the words "annual notification" slightly, then turned and hurriedly went into the inner courtyard.

In the living room, Zhao Ping'an sat imposingly in a rosewood chair, surveying the elegantly furnished hall, which was heated only by a charcoal brazier.

Two soldiers stood behind him like guardian deities, their stomachs probably growling, but they remained motionless. Time passed slowly, the occasional crackling of the charcoal fire emphasizing the silence of the hall.

About fifteen minutes later, a series of slightly hurried footsteps approached.

The steward led a middle-aged man dressed in a dark blue silk robe and a black mandarin jacket into the room.

The man was around forty years old, with a lean face, bright eyes, and a carefully trimmed short beard. He was Lou Zhenhua, also known as Lou Bancheng.

Lou Zhenhua's face revealed little emotion. His gaze lingered on Zhao Ping'an for a moment before sweeping over the two soldiers behind him.

Finally, his gaze landed on the empty coffee table, a faint hint of surprise flashing deep in his eyes, as if he hadn't expected the other party to just wait there like that.

"This must be Platoon Leader Zhao? I am Lou Zhenhua. My servants have been negligent and have kept Platoon Leader Zhao waiting." Lou Zhenhua cupped his hands, his tone calm and unreadable, yet his manners were impeccable.

Zhao Ping'an stood up and returned a fairly standard military salute: "Mr. Lou, I apologize for disturbing you. Zhao Ping'an, Zhao Dongliang of the newly formed 7th Regiment of the 101st Division of the 35th Army is my elder brother."

I have come today with a compelling reason: I also wish to discuss a business deal with Mr. Lou.

"Oh? Business?" Lou Zhenhua sat down in the host's seat, gesturing for the butler to serve tea, his gaze scrutinizing.

"I wonder what you mean by this, Platoon Leader Zhao? I am but a merchant, and I am afraid I am of little help in matters of national importance."

"Let's get straight to the point, Mr. Lou." Zhao Ping'an didn't touch the teacup that was served; he leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice.

"I came here this time to take advantage of Mr. Lou's channels and connections in Beiping to do some small business and exchange for some urgently needed items."