Chapter 415: Li Ping'an's Counterattack

Soon, Li Ping'an came out.

He was holding a stack of things.

He walked to the center of the courtyard and laid the items out one by one on the stone table.

A third-class merit citation, the paper yellowed, but the writing was clear: "Comrade Li Ping'an fought bravely in the Liberation War and was awarded a third-class merit……"

A second-class merit certificate, with a red cover and gilt lettering.

A first-class merit commendation, stamped with the seal of the Military Region.

There were also a discharge certificate, a combat hero honor certificate, and the appointment letter of the Head of the Security Department……

A thick stack, it filled the stone table.

Li Ping'an picked up the topmost first-class merit commendation and unfolded it.

"This is from the Korean battlefield." His voice was calm, but each word struck like a nail into the boys' ears: "In 1953, the Battle of Jincheng. Our company was ordered to block a US Army battalion; we held for three days and three nights, and in the end only seven of us remained. I took three shrapnel hits in my back, and they're still there."

He lifted the hem of his shirt.

On his waist and back, several ferocious scars crisscrossed, like centipedes lying on his skin.

In the afternoon sunlight, those scars glowed with a dark red light.

The courtyard fell eerily silent.

The boys stared at the scars; the fervor on their faces faded bit by bit, replaced by a complex mix—shock, shame, bewilderment.

Bang Geng's wooden stick, unbeknownst when, had drooped down.

"Now," Li Ping'an lowered his clothes, his gaze sweeping over the boys again, "Do you still want to search?"

No one spoke.

Even the most restless Yan Jiefang lowered his head.

"If you still want to search, go ahead." Li Ping'an stepped aside, "But I remind you, searching the home of a combat hero and the current Head of the Security Department requires proper procedure. Without it, it's illegal and disorderly. Can you bear that responsibility?"

Those last words were like a bucket of cold water poured over the boys' heads.

They glanced at each other, their eyes darting away.

Bang Geng gritted his teeth, wanting to say something, but seeing those award certificates on the stone table, he swallowed it back.

"Let's go!" he turned and squeezed out the word.

The boys, as if granted amnesty, followed him out, heads down.

Reaching the courtyard gate, Bang Geng glanced back.

Li Ping'an stood in the courtyard, bending to gather those award certificates. Sunlight shone on his back, his spine straight as a rifle.

Xu Damao waited at home for news.

He brewed a cup of tea, crossed his legs, and imagined Li Ping'an being driven to distraction by those young hotheads.

It would be best if they could find something.

Even an old book or a faded photo would do.

As long as there was a pretext, he could make something of it.

The door was pushed open.

Bang Geng came in with his head down, followed by Liu Guangtian and the others, each listless like a defeated rooster.

Xu Damao's heart gave a sudden thump.

"What happened?" he set down his teacup, "Didn't you search?"

"Search my ass!" Bang Geng plopped onto the stool, his tone fiery, "Vice Director Xu, you didn't tell us Li Ping'an is a combat hero! First-class merit! Second-class merit! The award certificates covered the table! His back is covered in scars!"

Xu Damao's face changed.

"So what? Can't a combat hero have problems?"

"Problems?" Liu Guangtian muttered, "They're asking us, on what grounds do we search his house? We… we can't answer."

"He said searching requires proper procedure; without it, it's illegal and disorderly." Yan Jiefang added quietly, "We can't bear that responsibility."

Xu Damao's face darkened bit by bit.

He stared at the boys, then suddenly laughed.

His laugh was cold.

"Good, very good." He stood up, limping two steps around the room, "Revolution needs courage, needs the spirit to dare and act. You lot, however, get scared off by a few words?"

The boys dared not look at him.

"Alright, everyone go back." Xu Damao waved his hand, his disappointment undisguised, "If there's another task, I'll find someone else."

Those words were like needles, pricking the boys' hearts.

They left, heads down.

The room grew quiet.

Xu Damao stood by the window, gazing toward Xi Kua Yuan, his teeth grinding.

Li Ping'an.

Li Ping'an again.

This guy is like a stone—hard and stinky, impossible to move.

But the more that's the case, the hotter the fire in Xu Damao's chest burns.

Can't be moved?

Then smash it!

In Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an gathered the award certificates and put them back in the box.

Lin Xueqing came out of the house, her face still a little pale.

"Ping'an, they…"

"Leaving." Li Ping'an closed the box, his voice calm, "He won't be coming for a while."

"But Xu Damao…"

"He won't stop." Li Ping'an turned, looking at his wife, "Today's whole act is directed by him. He uses a bunch of clueless kids to scout, to disgust people, to test my limits."

He walked to the courtyard gate, staring toward Xu Damao's house.

His gaze cooled a fraction.

Like ice forming.

"Before, I thought this kind of person was just a petty clown, not worth the trouble."

Li Ping'an said slowly, "But now I realize I was wrong. Once a petty clown gains power, he's scarier than a real villain. Because they have no bottom line, no scruples, and will do any dirty deed to climb."

Lin Xueqing walked to his side and took his hand.

"Then what do you plan to do?"

Li Ping'an was silent for a moment.

"Xu Damao's backer is Li Huaide." he said, "To move against Xu Damao, the best way isn't direct confrontation, but to make Li Huaide act on his own."

"But how could Li Huaide…"

"He will." Li Ping'an cut her off, a cold smile curling his lips, "As long as we make him think Xu Damao is a trouble, a hidden risk, a burden that could drag him down."

He recalled those things in the Spiritual Spring Space.

The antique calligraphy and paintings taken from the villa in Lou Ban City.

And… some other items.

For example, evidence of Li Huaide's years of taking favors and abusing authority for personal gain.

He had already begun collecting these.

Since the day he became Head of the Security Department, he knew that in this role he must keep some contingency.

He won't harm others, but he can't be unguarded.

Now, those contingencies should be put to use.

"Xueqing," Li Ping'an turned, looking at his wife, "These next few days I may come home late. Stay at home, lock the door, don't open for anyone. Yaozong and Nuanqing, lately don't let them go out alone."

Lin Xueqing nodded vigorously.

"Then you…"

"I'm fine." Li Ping'an smiled, a cold edge in his smile, "Xu Damao thinks he's the hunter and I'm the prey. But he doesn't know that sometimes the prey turns around and bites even harder."

Late night.

The Steel Rolling Mill Revolutionary Committee office building was pitch black.

Only the guardroom was lit, the old man on duty dozing.

A black silhouette vaulted over the fence, landing silently like a fallen leaf.

Li Ping'an stood before the building, looking up at the window of Xu Damao's office.

Second floor, second room on the left.

He circled to the back of the building, found a drainage pipe, and with hands and feet climbed up in a few moves. With Grandmaster-level skill, such a feat was effortless.

The window was unlocked—these days, no one dares to rob the Revolutionary Committee.

He pushed the window open and slipped inside.

The office was dim, only moonlight streaming through the window, casting a pallid white on the floor.

Li Ping'an did not turn on the light.

He took a small flashlight from the space, covered the bulb with cloth, letting out only a thin weak beam.

He first approached the filing cabinet.

He opened it; inside were ordinary documents: meeting minutes, work schedules, study materials…

Nothing he was looking for.

He then went to the desk and pulled open a drawer.

The first drawer held a fountain pen, ink, and stationery.

The second drawer contained tea leaves, cigarettes, and matches.

The third drawer was locked.

Li Ping'an pulled a thin wire from his pocket, slipped it into the keyhole, and gently fiddled.

"Click."

The lock opened.

Inside the drawer were some private letters, several notebooks, and… a kraft paper envelope.

Li Ping'an took the envelope and opened it.

Inside was a stack of cash.

All ten‑yuan notes, a thick pile, at least a thousand.

Li Ping'an smiled.

Xu Damao is a deputy director, his monthly salary under eighty; where did this much money come from?

He left them untouched, putting them back as they were.

Then he took another envelope from the space.

Inside that envelope were the materials he had gathered these days: evidence that Li Huaide, while serving as deputy factory director, accepted subordinates' gifts, arranged for relatives to get jobs in the plant, embezzled public funds… Though none were earth‑shattering crimes, they were enough to make Li Huaide uneasy.

He slipped the envelope into the bottom of the drawer, using the notebooks to press it down.

He again took a slip of paper from the space, and with his left hand wrote a few lines:

"Director Li, personally: Xu Damao has been gathering adverse material against you, with ill intent. The evidence is at the bottom of his office drawer. Please decide promptly."

The paper slip was folded and slipped into the gap of Li Huaide's office door—he had gone up to the third floor before coming up.

After doing this, Li Ping'an closed the drawer and locked it again.

He climbed out the window, slid down the drainage pipe, and vanished into the night.

The whole process took less than ten minutes.

Early the next morning, Li Huaide went to work.

At the office doorway, he bent down and picked up the paper slip.

After reading it, his complexion changed.

He pushed open the office door, left the lights off, sat in the darkness, and sat for a full quarter hour.

Then he stood up and went downstairs.

He walked to Xu Damao's office doorway, pushed the door open, and entered.

Xu Damao was brewing tea; when he saw Li Huaide, he quickly stood up.

"Director Li, why are you…"

"You go out," Li Huaide said coldly, "I'll borrow your office for a moment."

Xu Damao was startled, but dared not ask further, hurriedly stepped back out and closed the door.

Li Huaide walked to the desk and pulled open the third drawer.

It was locked.

He lifted his foot and gave a hard kick.

The drawer sprang open.

At the bottom, the envelope was exposed.

Li Huaide took the envelope, opened it, and pulled out the materials inside.

After reading just one page, his hand began to tremble.

It wasn't anger, but fear.

These matters are all true. Though minor, if pursued they would be enough to make a director like him unable to continue.

Xu Damao… damn you, Xu Damao! How dare you bite the master, you shall not be spared.

Li Huaide shoved the materials back into the envelope, slipped it into his pocket, and turned to leave.

Xu Damao was still waiting in the corridor.

"Director Li…"

"Xu Damao, you are suspended for reflection," Li Huaide said, looking at him with eyes like those of a dead dog, "The deputy director position of the Revolutionary Committee will be temporarily filled by someone else. As for you… write a self‑criticism and deeply reflect on your faults."

Having said that, he walked away without looking back.

Xu Damao stood where he was, as if struck by lightning.

Suspended?

Reflection?

Why? It's inexplicable—because he didn't catch Lou Bancheng? Or…

His mind went blank, and only when Li Huaide's figure vanished at the stairwell did he snap back to his senses.

His legs went weak, and he almost fell to his knees.

He clung to the wall, gasping heavily, and the scar on his face twisted with terror.

It's over.

All over.

But why, after all?

He suddenly recalled last night's dream— in it, Li Ping'an stood before him, smiling at him.

The smile was cold, like winter wind.

Xu Damao shivered.

He suddenly felt that this winter was colder than any before.