Marrying My Bestie's Ferocious Brother - He Calls Me His Baby!-Chapter 284 - 283: Reporting Me for Capitalism? National Studies Authority and City Bureau Leaders Slap Back!
"The letter says... says sister-in-law’s ’painting workshop’ is a typical capitalist tactic!"
"It accuses her of using her paintings as stepping stones, corrupting leadership, and swaying people’s hearts!"
Gu Lan’s voice was trembling uncontrollably.
"It also says... bartering is essentially speculation and graft! Poisonous weeds that undermine our foundations!"
"They demand... demand a strict investigation by the military district! A full explanation to everyone!"
Each sentence felt like a stone, striking at the hearts of everyone in the car.
In this era, the word ’capitalism’ alone is enough to crush anyone.
Lin Wan Yi’s hands, resting on her knees, involuntarily clenched.
She had anticipated envy, anticipated sabotage.
But she hadn’t expected such a lethal move from the opponent.
Gu Yanshen said nothing, merely reached out and held Lin Wan Yi’s icy hand.
His palm was dry and warm, possessing an undeniable strength.
The driver suddenly accelerated, and the car swiftly returned to the military district compound.
The lights in the Gu Family Courtyard burned unusually late into the night.
Inside the living room, the atmosphere was so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Gu Zhen Guo, after hearing Gu Lan’s account, slammed his fist on the table in rage.
"Bastards!"
The teacup on the table jumped up from the impact.
"Investigate! I want to see who has the audacity to throw such filth at my Gu Family!"
Gu Zhen Guo paced back and forth, his military presence weighing heavily on everyone.
"I’m calling my old comrades right now! Get this letter suppressed!"
He began heading for the study.
"Dad."
Gu Yanshen spoke up, his voice calm but stopping Gu Zhen Guo in his tracks.
"Don’t get involved in this matter."
"What?" Gu Zhen Guo turned his head, full of anger, "Not get involved? Just watch as your wife is bullied and your future is destroyed by this damn letter?"
"I said, her affairs are my battleground."
Gu Yanshen stood up, ignoring his furious father.
He walked over to Lin Wan Yi, adjusting the shawl on her shoulders.
Then he turned to the still-crying Gu Lan.
"Lanlan, stop crying."
"If sister-in-law did nothing wrong, we have nothing to fear."
His words were a calming presence.
Gu Lan sniffled, nodding her head.
Lin Wan Yi raised her head to look at him; this man was always like this.
If the sky were to fall, he would hold it up for her first.
Having comforted his family, Gu Yanshen turned sharply and walked to the phone.
Gu Zhen Guo thought he was about to call for reinforcements.
Instead, he dialed an unfamiliar number, one not belonging to the military district.
The call connected quickly.
"Mr. Chen."
Gu Yanshen’s voice was calm and unwavering.
"It’s me, Gu Yanshen."
Something seemed to be said on the other end.
Gu Yanshen didn’t engage in superfluous pleasantries, diving directly into the matter.
"You previously mentioned you didn’t want worldly scheming to touch Wanyi’s paintings."
He paused for a moment.
"Now, someone is trying to define her paintings as ’worldly scheming’."
Long silence on the other end.
Then an elderly but powerful voice uttered just three words.
"Understood."
"Clack."
The phone was hung up.
The whole process took less than a minute.
The next morning, the weather was gloomy.
The atmosphere in the Gu Family Courtyard was heavier than the weather itself.
Gu Lan hadn’t slept all night, her eyes were red.
Just then, the courtyard gate was knocked upon.
"Knock, knock, knock."
Three knocks, not too light, not too heavy, but like a hammer striking everyone’s hearts.
Gu Yanshen walked over and opened the door.
Outside stood three people, all in impeccably fitted military uniforms, the collar buttons fastened tightly.
Leading them was a middle-aged man in his forties, with a square face and serious expression.
He presented an ID.
"Comrade Gu Yanshen, we are from the military district discipline department."
"My surname is Wang, I am the leader of this investigation team."
Mr. Wang withdrew his ID, his gaze swept around the courtyard before resting on Lin Wan Yi coming out from the house.
"We received a real-name report, and need to understand some situations about ’Yiyi Painting Workshop’ from Comrade Lin Wan Yi."
His tone was official, without any personal emotion.
Yet, this emotionless attitude itself presented a tremendous pressure.
Behind the curtains of the neighbors’ windows, countless ears were likely listening.
Mr. Wang took a letter from his briefcase.
"This is the report letter we received."
He cleared his throat, preparing to read its content aloud.
"Screech——"
Outside the courtyard came two harsh, urgent brake sounds.
Not just one car.
Two cars.
Everyone instinctively looked toward the entrance.
The ajar courtyard gate was forcefully pushed open by an old yet strong hand.
Chen Jingyuan emerged wearing a dark long robe, his expression stern.
Behind him followed a similarly irate middle-aged man in civilian clothes.
Mr. Wang’s face instantly changed.
"Mr. Chen...?"
Chen Jingyuan ignored him.
He didn’t even look at the people of the Gu Family.
He only raised the scroll in his hand toward Mr. Wang.
The painting slowly unfurled.
Depicted was an old soldier with a broken leg, sitting in a wheelchair, staring longingly into the distance, towards Beijing.
The painting conveyed a sense of profound grief, yet was full of hope.
"Mr. Wang." Mr. Chen’s voice was like ice, "I have an old friend who participated in the Long March, with seven bullet wounds. Now, in his old age, he wishes to see Beijing again."
"He can’t walk anymore, so I asked young Wanyi to create this piece, ’Red Memory,’ for him, to soothe his longing for home."
Chen took a step forward, glaring at Mr. Wang.
"I ask you."
"My friend’s revolutionary sentiments, do you consider them speculation and graft?"
Beads of sweat had already formed on Mr. Wang’s forehead.
He opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a single word.
Before he could compose a reply.
The middle-aged man accompanying Chen stepped forward.
He didn’t carry a painting, but rather a finely printed, palm-sized booklet meant for elementary students.
The cover was in Lin Wan Yi’s distinctive style: a wise monkey teacher explaining numbers to a group of little animals.
"I am Qian Zhenhua from the city education bureau."
The middle-aged man spoke coldly.
"We’re promoting a new arithmetic textbook. Funds were tight so we couldn’t hire an artist."
"I heard that Mr. Lin excels in painting, and traded my personal collection of old stamps for twenty illustrations."
Director Qian nearly shoved the arithmetic booklet into Mr. Wang’s face.
"This arithmetic primer, we printed 100,000 copies, for free distribution to every first-grade student in the city."
His voice suddenly rose.
"Mr. Wang, let me also ask you!"
"Do you consider this material, which helps 100,000 children learn arithmetic, a corruption of our next generation?!"
Mr. Wang stood there, completely frozen.
His face turned from red to white, then from white to blue.
Beads of cold sweat rolled down his temples one by one.
