Chapter 210

Li Ping'an's saying "guard the courtyard gates well" was like a soft nail, lightly but firmly blocking Yi Zhonghai and other prying gazes; he neither explained nor grew angry, and that calm rooted in strength and confidence was actually more powerful than any explanation.

The gate of Xi Kua Yuan stayed shut as always, yet the odd atmosphere inside directed at Li Ping'an was like a balloon punctured by a needle, silently letting out its air.

Xu Damao was the first to taste the bitter fruit; he discovered that the sensational rumor he spread not only failed to ruin Li Ping'an's reputation, but instead plunged himself into an embarrassing predicament.

Sha Zhu was the first to give him a cold look; upon seeing him in the courtyard, he spat at his feet and said, "Pah! Petty person!"

Yan Bu Gui, upon seeing him again, his eyes flickered, he laughed nervously and took a detour, clearly not wanting to get involved in his trouble.

Even the Liu Guangtian and Liu Guangfu brothers, who usually could exchange a few words with him, now avoided him; Xu Damao tried to approach and boast about his upcoming permanent position and having a room to himself, but Liu Guangtian gave a hollow smile and cut him off: "Brother Damao, you'd better watch your own mouth first! Li Chief is someone handling big affairs—could you really compare to him?"

Xu Damao suffered a loss, feeling both stifled and resentful; he felt like a clown jumping on a beam, having exerted himself for half a day while the audience had all left, leaving only him standing foolishly on stage.

What's more alarming was that a few days later in the evening, Director Wang of the Street Office came to the Siheyuan with a stern face, summoned Xu Damao to the open space in the Front Courtyard, and in front of several elders and many neighbors, sternly rebuked: "Comrade Xu Damao! As an educated youth and an official film projectionist, you must watch your conduct! Spreading baseless rumors about the personal lives of leading cadres—what kind of nature is this? It undermines unity and has a terribly bad influence! This time it's a verbal warning; if you offend again, the Street Office will deal with you severely."

Director Wang's voice was loud enough to be heard clearly in both the Central Courtyard and the rear courtyard; Jia Zhangshi hastily pulled her head back, Yan Bu Gui pretended to look at the sky, Yi Zhonghai's face flushed with embarrassment, and Xu Damao burned with shame, wishing he could find a crack in the ground to hide in as he repeatedly promised he would never dare again.

After this incident, Xu Damao became completely honest—at least on the surface he settled down considerably; the rumors about Li Ping'an in the courtyard vanished completely, and when people looked at Xi Kua Yuan again, their eyes held a bit more awe and restraint.

However, Li Ping'an had no mind to spare for these courtyard disputes; the information and radio seized by Old Liu's scrap station provided new leads, but also brought greater questions.

In the Security Department office, Wang Dahu was reporting: "Chief, based on the interrogation of Old Liu and analysis of those several pieces of intelligence, their focus is not only the factory's production data but also… several senior technicians, including the family situation and daily routine of Yi Zhonghai, an eighth-grade fitter."

Li Ping'an tapped his fingers lightly on the tabletop: "Is the target the technical backbone?"

"Very likely," Wang Dahu said with a solemn expression, "and Old Liu is merely a transit station and custodian; his superior is a person called 'Lao Mao', who is extremely cautious, using only the dead letter box (note: a fixed location for passing information without meeting face‑to‑face) for one‑way contact. Old Liu only knows that 'Lao Mao' might also operate within the Steel Rolling Mill's area, but he has never seen its true face."

"Lao Mao…" Li Ping'an repeated the code name, his eyes sharp; one line had been cut, but another, more concealed and dangerous line surfaced, and this 'Lao Mao' could access factory personnel information and might even be hidden inside the factory—or… nearby.

Increase scrutiny of all factory personnel, especially those who can access personnel files and the technical workers' documents department; at the same time, keep an eye on the courtyard… Li Ping'an paused, his gaze sweeping toward the Siheyuan outside the window, and said, "any abnormal situation."

Understood!

After Wang Dahu left, Li Ping'an fell into solitary thought; the enemy agents' strategy was shifting from earlier sabotage and liaison to more covert intelligence gathering and possible personnel subversion, making the technical backbone and their families the new target, which meant the struggle had grown more complex and its scope might extend to… the Siheyuan where he was located.

Yi Zhonghai is an eighth-grade fitter, undoubtedly one of the key targets; so what about the others in the courtyard? Could it be that the mysterious 'Lao Mao' is hidden among those neighbors who daily keep their heads down and never look up?

This thought made Li Ping'an's heart sink slightly; he would rather fight the enemy openly on a battlefield of swords and spears than face this hidden, hard‑to‑discern threat lurking nearby.

In the evening, returning to Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an informed Lin Xueqing of the new situation and his worries.

Lin Xueqing listened, fell silent for a moment, then calmly analyzed: "If they are aiming at the technical backbone, then not only Master Yi, but also other senior technicians in the factory, and even a cook like Zhuzi whose culinary skills stand out—if they were used to approach or influence the target, they could also appear on the potential list."

Li Ping'an nodded; his wife's calm and meticulous nature always gave him support, and he said, "So, we must not only guard against external threats, but also pay attention to subtle changes that might arise within."

In the days that followed, Li Ping'an's observation of the courtyard became more meticulous and detailed.

He saw Yi Zhonghai still going to and from work punctually each day, his face bearing the particular composure of an eighth‑grade worker; he would occasionally nod at neighbors, but most of the time he remained silent and reserved.

He saw Sha Zhu bustling with joy as he prepared for his wedding, coming and going with Ma Dongmei, his face radiating pure happiness, as if he had no worries at all.

He saw Xu Damao, though now honest, still occasionally flash resentment and calculation in his eyes.

He saw Jia Zhangshi still sharp‑tongued, Jia Dongxu still timid, Qin Huairu's belly growing larger, and the weariness and numbness in her eyes deepening.

He saw Yan Bu Gui still calculating every penny, and Liu Haizhong still indulging in unrealistic leadership dreams.

Everything seemed unchanged from usual; that 'Lao Mao' had melted into the everyday bustle, leaving no trace.

But Li Ping'an did not relax his vigilance; he knew that the calmer the water surface, the stronger the undercurrents beneath might be.

That weekend, the sunshine was splendid; Sha Zhu invited Master Lei to give the newly made furniture a final polish, Ma Dongmei also came, helping He Yushui clean and tidy up, and the three young people chatted and laughed, leaving the Central Courtyard unusually filled with vitality.

Li Ping'an stood at the gate of Xi Kua Yuan, watching the scene, but his thoughts turned to Wang Dahu's investigative progress—the inspection of relevant factory departments was proceeding slowly, and no obvious suspects had been found yet; 'Lao Mao' was hidden too deeply.

Just then, his gaze inadvertently swept over the Front Courtyard; Yan Bu Gui was holding a letter, talking to the mail carrier, and his face showed a rare smile unlike his usual calculating expression.

That smile flashed and was gone, yet it stirred Li Ping'an's heart slightly; Yan Bu Gui—an elementary school teacher—his social network seemed more complicated than imagined.

He made no fuss, merely committing this subtle observation silently to memory.

The covert struggle between friend and foe had spread from the factory area to this seemingly tranquil Siheyuan; everyone might be wearing a mask, and every seemingly ordinary action could conceal an unknown purpose.

Li Ping'an knew he must be more patient, like a hunter waiting for the moment when the 'Lao Mao' hidden in the shadows of the courtyard walls would inevitably reveal its claws.

At this moment, the Siheyuan bathed in sunlight remained a picture of peaceful, timeless serenity; only those who knew the inner truth could sense that, mingling in the air besides the aroma of food and the trivialities of daily life, there was a faint, elusive hint of danger.