Chapter 17

Three days passed, Jia Zhangshi's cane still thumped in the Courtyard, but the vigor of her wailing and tearing had already waned compared to the first two days. She had also grown thin, her eye sockets sunk, her lips chapped, as if she hadn't slept for three nights.

Zhao Jianguo sat on the small stool by the door, holding a screwdriver, leisurely taking apart an old light switch. It wasn't actually broken; he just wanted to keep his hands busy, to let the people outside know—he wasn't panicking.

The Courtyard Gate squeaked open as Yi Zhonghai walked in with his hands behind his back. He was dressed neatly today, his blue cloth jacket washed pale, collar buttoned tight—clearly here on official business.

"Elders and youngsters, come out a moment!" he said, his voice not loud but each word clear. "Today we need to make this clear. Fifty yuan, five catties of national grain coupons—no small sum. Jia Zhangshi lost her pension money; she's anxious, and we all understand. But the thief hasn't been caught, the money not recovered—we can't just let it go."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the Zhao Family doorframe, then slowly lowered to the ground: "I propose a full‑courtyard search. Every household, open boxes and overturn cabinets, inspect in plain sight. Anyone with a clear conscience should willingly cooperate. This is not only to give the Jia family an explanation, but also to clear everyone's name."

As his words fell, Qin Huairu poked her head out of the Kitchen, still clutching half a scallion. Her lips moved, but she made no sound.

Yanbugui sucked on an empty pipe bowl, squinting at Yi Zhonghai: "Old Yi, your words sound reasonable, but… a house search? Can this be brought up so casually?"

"How can't we?" Yi Zhonghai raised a hand. "Before collective interests, what is that bit of personal privacy? Besides, Xiao Zhao said we need evidence—so let's look for it now! True gold fears no fire; who fears a search?"

His remark was clearly aimed at Zhao Jianguo.

Zhao Jianguo then slowly set down the screwdriver, rose, and brushed dust from his trousers. He didn't rush to speak, first scanning the crowd, then fixing his gaze on Yi Zhonghai's face.

"Master Yi, your proposal sounds lively, but there's one problem—it's illegal."

"What?" Yi Zhonghai blinked.

"Article 79 of the Draft Constitution." Zhao Jianguo spoke calmly: "Citizens' homes shall not be infringed. Without due legal process, no organization or individual may search a residence. You are neither public security nor a street official—who gave you the authority to go house‑to‑house rummaging through chests?"

The Courtyard fell silent.

Yi Zhonghai's face shifted: "You… you're splitting hairs! This is a special situation! The old lady lost her pension money; the whole Courtyard can't rest!"

"Special circumstances don't justify breaking the law." Zhao Jianguo stepped forward two paces, mounted the stone steps, half a head higher, and said: "If you truly care about this, you should persuade Granny Jia to file a report at the police station. Police investigations follow procedure and have means—if they find the real thief, they arrest him; if not, at least the matter becomes clear. This is far better than staging a 'mass movement' here."

"You!" Yi Zhonghai pointed at Zhao Jianguo, his finger trembling slightly, "Are you refusing to cooperate with the collective investigation?"

"I'm not refusing to cooperate." Zhao Jianguo shook his head. "I oppose illegal search. If you insist on checking, I suggest first obtaining a certificate from the street office, then having public security officers handle it. Otherwise, whoever dares to move a single cabinet in my home, I will sue them for violating residential rights."

As soon as he spoke, even Yanbugui grinned: "Oh dear, that charge is no light matter."

Yi Zhonghai, unable to reply, stood dumbfounded for two seconds, then turned and faced Jia Zhangshi: "Sister‑in‑law Jia, say something! If you really lost the money, you ought to have an explanation, right?"

Jia Zhangshi leaned on her cane, lips trembling: "I… I certainly want to give an explanation! But they all protect outsiders, and I'm just an old woman—what I say is useless."

"Then tell me, how exactly did you lose it?" Zhao Jianguo suddenly interjected, his tone shifting to calm and steady: "Fixing a machine requires checking the wiring; investigating a case requires scrutinizing details. You said the money was in the iron box—I'll ask three questions: How was the money folded? Which layer held the grain coupons? Who held the key?"

Jia Zhangshi blinked: "What… what's there to ask? Fifty yuan, five ten‑yuan notes, stacked neat and tidy! The grain coupons lay underneath, pressed—red‑headed 1958 national coupons! I carry the key on me every day!"

Zhao Jianguo nodded, then turned to Dong Xu: "Dad, at the Steel Rolling Factory, are there still ten‑yuan wage notes being issued?"

Dong Xu hesitated: "... They've been rare since last year; the factory now hands out five‑yuan notes. Ten‑yuan ones would be from the year before last or earlier."

Zhao Jianguo then turned to Qin Huairu: "Sister‑in‑law, are 1958 grain coupons still being issued?"

Qin Huairu lowered her head, voice barely audible: "... Not yet the right year. What's being issued now are the 1957 coupons."

The air suddenly froze.

Jia Zhangshi's face turned pale in an instant, her cane wobbling twice on the ground: "I… I'm old—mixing up the year is understandable; who can remember everything when they're aged?"

"Mixing up?" Zhao Jianguo snorted. "Then what about the key? You said you 'carry it on you every day,' but three days ago, when I repaired your wiring, I personally saw you pull the key from under the mattress to open the iron box. At that time you never claimed it was 'carried on you'."

Jia Zhangshi shuddered violently, a "ge" sound catching in her throat, as if something were lodged there.

Zhao Jianguo continued, unhurried: "You said the money was still there a few days ago, yet in front of the whole Courtyard you claimed to have seen my family eating scallion‑oil pancakes. If you'd truly lost the money, panicking to the point of disregarding your life, would you still have the leisure to stare at someone else's stove?"

As he spoke, several people in the Courtyard lowered their heads, silent.

Qin Huairu gripped the corner of her apron, her knuckles whitening.

Seeing the turn of events, Yi Zhonghai hurriedly interjected: "Hey, Xiao Zhao, you can't talk like that! It's natural for the elderly to misremember years and places. Why insist on it? Besides, being so pushy, aren't you afraid of harming neighborly harmony?"

Zhao Jianguo turned his head, locking eyes with him: "Master Yi, you teach your apprentices to keep a trick up their sleeve—that's none of my business. But you stood up today urging a search of my home, hoping to find 'contraband'? Then I'll ask you this—weren't you also 'misremembering' the parameters of the No. 3 machine‑tool drawing at the factory yesterday, causing the whole batch of parts to be reworked?"

Yi Zhonghai's face flushed crimson, he opened his mouth but no words came out.

Zhao Jianguo stopped looking at him, instead scanning the crowd: "I don't fear being searched; I fear someone will abuse the pretext of 'lost goods' to carry out repression. Today I won't press the matter, but if Granny Jia hasn't filed a police report in three days, I will, according to the 'false accusation brings penalty' rule, come to her door and demand grain."

He paused, his voice low yet each word hit hard: "Ten catties of fine grain, five catties of local coupons, plus the words 'I wronged Zhao Jianguo, sorry.' Short even one catty, and I'll pursue it to the end."

Having said that, he turned and walked straight into the house.

Just as he reached the doorway, he suddenly stopped, turned back to glance at Jia Zhangshi: "By the way, if you truly can't recall where you put the money, consider this—was the iron box perhaps never locked?"

Jia Zhangshi shuddered all over, her cane clattering to the ground.

Zhao Jianguo said nothing more, lifted his foot into the house—the door latched shut with a crisp click.

In the Courtyard, nobody uttered a sound.

Yi Zhonghai stood where he was, his face alternating between green and white, wanting to say something but not knowing where to begin. He turned his head to look at Jia Zhangshi, only to see her whole body seeming to have been drained of strength, leaning on her cane, forehead sweating, lips trembling, even her breathing irregular.

Qin Huairu moved to support her, but as soon as she reached out, Jia Zhangshi shoved her hand away.

"Get away!" her voice quivered, "All of you, get lost! Are you all just watching me become a joke?"

She said this, trying to lift her foot toward her own room, but her legs went weak and wouldn't support her; her cane slipped, she staggered, nearly falling.

Qin Huairu hurried forward to steady her, whispering: "Mom, let's go back inside… rest a bit…"

"Rest what rest!" Jia Zhangshi snapped her head up, eyes bloodshot, "I… I clearly…"

She hadn't finished speaking when her throat choked, as if something were blocking it.

Just then, a soft "pa" sound came from inside Zhao Jianguo's house.

It was the light turning on.

Inside, Zhao Jianguo sat at the table, holding the book *Electrical Basics*, flipped to the page on Ohm's Law. He stared at the small print: "Voltage equals current times resistance. But the human heart does not follow Ohm."

He didn't pick up his pen, merely tapping the line lightly with his finger.

Then he closed the book, took a small notebook from the drawer, opened a page, and wrote: "Investigating a case isn't about finding objects; it's about finding flaws. And those flaws aren't elsewhere—they're on the lips."

Having written that, he slipped the notebook back under the bed, rose, and walked to the window.

The curtains weren't drawn tight, leaving a gap.

Through that gap he gazed outside.

Jia Zhangshi still stood in the Courtyard, supported by Qin Huairu, her body swaying like a dry reed in the wind. Her lips kept moving, as if she wanted to say something, but her voice had dropped to a whisper, too faint to hear.

Zhao Jianguo didn't laugh, nor did he move.

He knew this show was about to end.

But he also knew that some people wouldn't admit defeat until the very last moment.

Sure enough, not long after, Jia Zhangshi broke free of Qin Huairu's grasp, leaned on her cane and walked step by step to the Zhao family's gate, lifting her head to stare at the closed door.

"Zhao Jianguo!" she shouted, her voice hoarse, "Come out!"

Zhao Jianguo didn't respond.

She shouted again, "Don't think you've won! I'm telling you, this isn't over!"

Inside, there was still no movement.

Jia Zhangshi panted, slammed her cane hard on the ground: "You wait! I… I…"

Before she could finish, her body suddenly lurched, her hand loosened, and the cane clanged to the ground.

She leaned against the doorframe, forehead pressed to the wooden door, her chest heaving violently.

Just then, Zhao Jianguo's door opened again.

He stood in the doorway, head lowered, looking at her.

Jia Zhangshi lifted her head, her eyes still holding a final spark of stubbornness.

Zhao Jianguo said nothing; he simply took out a key from his pocket and gently placed it on the stone step beside the door.

"If you're looking for something," he said, "you might as well look for this first."

Jia Zhangshi stared at the key, her pupils contracting sharply.

Zhao Jianguo stepped back, raised his hand, and closed the door.

The door panels slowly closed before her eyes.

Her fingers still rested on the doorframe, fingertips turning white.