Chapter 388

As morning light brightened the gray tiles of the siheyuan, the sound of fists and feet cutting wind already rang out in the west wing.

Li Yaozong held a horse stance, his small face tense, fine beads of sweat seeping from his temples.

Li Ping'an stood behind his son, his palm lightly resting on the child's lower back.

"Sink the kua, power rises from the ground." His voice wasn't loud, yet each word was clear: "Practicing boxing is like being a person; if the foundation isn't solid, everything is an empty frame."

Li Yaozong clenched his teeth and sank his body another fraction lower.

His calves trembled, but he made no sound.

Since his father returned to work, morning practice had become an unbreakable rule.

Li Ping'an saw it in his eyes and felt relieved.

His son took after him, having a stubborn, unwilling-to-lose spirit.

After finishing a set of boxing, Li Yaozong was out of breath, but his eyes shone remarkably.

"Dad, I held on three breaths longer today than yesterday!"

"There's progress." Li Ping'an wiped his son's forehead with a towel, "But remember, kung fu isn't about who can endure longer, but who walks more steadily."

These words were deep; a seven-year-old might not fully grasp them.

But Li Ping'an knew that some truths must be planted in the heart from childhood.

"Go wash your face and eat breakfast; it's time for school."

Father and son readied themselves, then pushed their bicycles out the door.

Just as they reached the central courtyard, they saw Sha Zhu also pushing his bike out, his son He Xiao sitting on the rear seat.

The two children were about the same age and attended the same elementary school.

He Xiao greeted crisply, "Uncle Li, good morning!"

"Good morning." Li Ping'an nodded. "Zhuzi, are you taking the kid today?"

"Sure thing." Sha Zhu grinned. "The Dongmei Factory has an early meeting; I need to go early, so this honorable duty falls to me."

He complained with his mouth, but his hands were gentle as he settled his son on the rear seat.

Li Yaozong jumped onto his father's bike rear seat; the two kids exchanged a glance in the morning light and secretly made a funny face.

"Let's go!" Sha Zhu pedaled ahead.

Li Ping'an followed at a leisurely pace.

The wheels rolled over the blue stone slabs, making a soft rustling sound.

Cooking smoke drifted in the alley; the aroma of breakfast stalls mingled with the smoky scent of coal stoves.

This was the most ordinary morning in Four Nine City.

But Li Ping'an knew that beneath this ordinariness lay many hidden currents.

After seeing the children off, Li Ping'an rode his bike to the steel rolling mill.

Passing the grain store, he saw neighbors queuing long for breakfast.

Someone recognized him, and they whispered to each other.

"Isn't that Li Ping'an? I heard he's been reinstated."

"Not only reinstated, he's been promoted! Now he's Deputy Party Committee Secretary and Head of the Security Department."

"Tsk, this guy's just got a hard life—suspended for a few months, yet he comes back and climbs higher."

The gossip wasn't loud, but it drifted clearly into his ears.

Li Ping'an's expression didn't change; he pushed harder on the pedals, and the wheels sped up.

Some words, once heard, are just heard.

Taking them to heart only becomes a burden.

At the gate of the steel rolling mill, Wang Dahu was already waiting.

Seeing Li Ping'an, he hurried forward to meet him.

"Director, there's a situation."

The two entered the Security Department office building; the door closed behind them.

"Last night the patrol squad found something abnormal." Wang Dahu lowered his voice, "Outside the west wall of the factory grounds, there are signs of someone scouting. The footprints are fresh—at least two people."

Li Ping'an's eyes narrowed.

"When did this happen?"

"Around two a. m. When the patrol discovered it, the person had already fled. But the wall still bore climbing marks, and this."

Wang Dahu took a small cloth bag from the drawer.

He opened it; inside was a button.

It was copper, the edges worn, the style quite ordinary.

But Li Ping'an recognized it at a glance.

It was identical to the one found at Deputy Director Zhao's home.

"The shopkeeper's."

"They really haven't gone far."

"Increase vigilance." Li Ping'an said in a low voice, "Especially at night, add double posts. Has the approval for stringing barbed wire on the wall come through?"

"It's approved; work will start this afternoon."

"Good." Li Ping'an picked up the button, rubbing it between his fingertips, "Keep this quiet for now; don't startle the snake."

Wang Dahu nodded heavily.

At the same time, in a large courtyard in the southern part of the city.

The shopkeeper sat in the dim inner room, before him a bowl of bangzi noodle porridge that had gone completely cold.

He had grown thin, his cheeks sunken, his eye sockets deep.

But his gaze remained sharp, like a wolf trapped in a cage.

"Four Nine City is under martial law now." The gaunt man sitting across from him said in a hoarse voice, "We're hiding here like rats; this isn't a long‑term solution."

"The most dangerous place is the safest place."

The Shopkeeper lifted the porridge bowl and took a slow sip, "They surely think I've fled and are chasing north. Who would've guessed I'm hiding right under their noses?"

Despite saying that, his hand gripping the bowl whitened slightly at the knuckles.

The gaunt man sighed.

"But hiding like this, when will it end? Old Five and the other four still have no word—what if…?"

"No." The Shopkeeper cut him off, "Old Five's been with me twenty years; he knows the rules. If he's caught, he'll know what to do."

He set down the bowl and walked to the window.

Through a gap in the curtains he looked out at the messy courtyard.

Old clothes hung on the drying line, children chased and played in the courtyard, an old woman sat on the doorstep picking vegetables.

All of this was so far from the life he once had.

And yet so near.

"Li Ping'an's side—have you checked it out clearly?" he suddenly asked.

"Checked." The gaunt man pulled a sheet from his pocket, "This is his current routine. Every morning he takes his kids to school, then goes to the Steel Rolling Mill. In the evenings he usually gets off work on time, occasionally he goes fishing at the Yongding River."

"Fishing?" the Shopkeeper sneered, "He still has the leisure for that?"

"Maybe it's just for show." The gaunt man analyzed, "Old Zhou's side surely gave him a task. He's now an open‑side pawn, trying to lure us in."

The Shopkeeper fell silent for a long while.

"Then let him fish." He turned, his eyes cold, "Tell Old Five—if there's a chance, strike. But remember, make it clean, leave no loose ends."

The gaunt man felt a chill in his heart.

"Striking now—wouldn't that be too risky?"

"Risky?" the Shopkeeper laughed, madness in his grin, "What do we have left to lose? Either we gamble everything, or we wait to die. Which do you choose?"

The gaunt man said nothing.

He knew the Shopkeeper was right.

They had no retreat left.

In the afternoon, the Steel Rolling Mill's auditorium.

Xu Damao stood on stage, wearing a big red flower on his chest, his face wreathed in smiles.

Below, the seats were filled with Group Leaders and above, a solid black mass.

Li Huaide was reading the commendation decision.

"…In view of Comrade Xu Damao's outstanding contributions to maintaining public order and uncovering enemy spy leads, the factory Party Committee has decided to award him the title of "Public Security Model," raise his pay by one grade, and transfer him to the Logistics Department's projection team as its leader…"

With each sentence, Xu Damao straightened his back a little more.

When the reading ended, he took the certificate and prize money, his hands trembling.

It wasn't excitement; it was pride.

The petty pride of a small‑minded man who's gotten his way.

"Thank the organization, thank the leadership!" he bowed to the crowd below, voice booming, "I, Xu Damao, will keep striving and not betray the organization's trust!"

Sparse applause rose from the audience.

Many faces looked unpleasant.

Everyone knew what kind of person Xu Damao was.

He had made many enemies.

Now he's completely changed his ways, become a model, and still gets a pay raise?

Someone muttered under their breath, "He really walked into shit luck."

"Isn't that right—can someone like him even be a model?"

The talk wasn't loud, but Xu Damao heard it.

He not only didn't get angry, he grew even more pleased.

That's exactly the effect he wanted.

The less you accept it, the happier I am.

After the meeting dispersed, Xu Damao deliberately waited at the auditorium door.

Whenever he saw an acquaintance, he greeted them, his voice especially loud.

Old Wang, you free tonight? I'll treat you, let's celebrate!

Old Li, we're models now too—look out for us from now on!

He acted as if he wanted to grab a loudspeaker and broadcast it factory‑wide.

Wang Dahu passed by, furrowed his brow, and ignored him.

Xu Damao, however, went up to him voluntarily.

Section Chief Wang, want to have a couple drinks tonight? I'll treat!

No, I've got things to do. Wang Dahu's tone was cold.

Xu Damao hit a soft nail, didn't mind, and walked away grinning.

As he walked he hummed a little tune, limping but taking unusually long strides.

Back in the Logistics Department, he placed the award certificate in the most conspicuous spot on his desk.

Anyone coming to handle business would see it at a glance.

Colleagues congratulated him, and he just waved his hand: "Ah, it's all thanks to the organization's training, it's all thanks to the organization's training."

But the smile on his face couldn't be hidden.

After work, he deliberately made a detour to the workshop and walked around.

The workers were tidying up their tools, getting ready to leave work.

Seeing Xu Damao, some turned away, some pretended not to see him.

Xu Damao, however, took the initiative to greet them: "Brothers, you've worked hard! I'll treat you to drinks another day!"

No one responded.

He didn't mind, humming a tune as he walked away.

Leaving the factory gate, he didn't go straight home.

Instead, he went to the supply and marketing cooperative, bought a jin of pork belly and a bottle of erguotou.

Carrying them in his hand, he swaggered through the market.

As he passed the alley entrance, he happened to run into Yan Bu Gui.

"Third Elder, don't cook tonight, come to my place for drinks!" Xu Damao shouted loudly, "I'm treating!"

Yan Bu Gui pushed his glasses, looking at the meat and alcohol in his hand.

"Damao, this is..."

"Let's celebrate!" Xu Damao shook the wine bottle, "The factory gave us an award and raised our wage by one grade—shouldn't we celebrate?"

Yan Bu Gui felt sour inside, bubbles rising, yet he forced a smile on his face.

"Yes, yes. Damao, you're making something of yourself."

"That's right!" Xu Damao patted his chest, "I, Xu Damao, am now a meritorious person! From now on, in the courtyard, if there's anything, just speak up!"

He spoke with bravado, limping as he walked home.

Even his back bore an air of pride.

Yan Bu Gui watched his back, shaking his head.

"A petty man gets his way."

The voice was very soft, only he could hear it.

In the West Courtyard, Li Ping'an was tutoring his son with homework.

Lin Xueqing was cooking in the kitchen, the pot simmering cabbage and tofu.

It was a simple dinner, but the family ate with peace of mind.

"Dad, I heard Xu Damao and Xu Shu are hosting a banquet?" the son said.

"Xu Damao got promoted and a raise; not showing off a bit in the courtyard would be letting down his injury and hospitalization."

The child didn't understand the grudges of the adult world, only feeling that wearing a big red flower was glorious.

Li Ping'an stroked his son's head.

"Xu Shu has indeed made meritorious service. But you must remember, making meritorious service is one thing, being a person is another. You can't forget how to be a person just because you've made meritorious service."

These words were spoken deeply; Li Yaozong seemed to understand but not quite.

But he remembered them.

After dinner, Li Ping'an stood in the courtyard.

The night grew darker, the stars sparse.

He thought of the button from earlier that day, and of Wang Dahu's report.

The shopkeeper was nearby.

What were they planning to do?

Revenge? Silence them? Or something else?

He didn't know.

But he knew, this dark struggle was far from over.

Xu Damao's pride was merely surface-level bustle.

Underneath, the undercurrents were quietly gathering.

Perhaps soon, it would stir up new waves.

Li Ping'an took a deep breath; the night wind brought coolness into his lungs.

He turned and went back inside.

Under the light, his wife was mending clothes, his son earnestly practicing writing.

Such an ordinary night, such a peaceful life.

He must protect it.

At any cost.