Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The courtyard at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang is as lively as it is during the Chinese New Year today.

Shen Dayong, who was usually so stingy that he would even cut pickled vegetables into shreds before eating them, surprisingly set up an octagonal table in the middle of the courtyard today. On the table were a dish of peanuts and a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor). His wrinkled old face was now glowing with a greasy red light, and he was spitting everywhere, spraying Yan Bugui across from him.

"Old Yan, don't let my quiet demeanor fool you, I'm just being low-key! Do you know what day it is today?"

Shen Dayong sipped his wine, his expression so dignified that anyone who didn't know him would mistake him for a prince from the capital. "My eldest son, Jinghong, is back from America! Do you know America? It's overflowing with gold; even beggars ask for US dollars!"

Yan Bugui adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the peanuts on the table. A pang of sadness welled up inside him, but he still had to keep quiet.

"That's right, that's right. Jinghong is a golden phoenix that flew out of our institute, a double PhD, she's a literary star descended to earth. Old Shen, you're destined to be the old man's son from now on."

"That's a must!"

Shen Dayong slapped his thigh, beaming with pride, "Jinghong said in his letter that he's a great scientist over there, earning enough in a year to buy half of Beijing! He'll definitely bring back a lot this time. When he comes back, I'll give every family in our institute two catties of pork first, so everyone can have a taste of foreign delicacies!"

Several middle-aged women who were sewing shoe soles nearby immediately surrounded him when they heard there was meat to share. They showered him with auspicious words as if they were free, making Shen Dayong's bones melt.

The courtyard presented a false sense of prosperity, while inside the house, the abacus beads clicked and clattered.

Shen's mother, Liu Cuihua, sat cross-legged on the kang (a heated brick bed), mending patches on an old cotton-padded jacket. But her mind wasn't on the needlework; it was on the check that hadn't even been drawn yet.

"That old man has been bragging about everything outside, isn't he afraid of his tongue slipping out?"

She muttered to herself, but her eyes revealed a shrewd calculation.

In the inner room next door, the second son, Shen Yaozu, was lying on the bed groaning, holding a half-eaten rotten apple in his hand.

"Mom, Zhao Yanzi said she wouldn't come into our house without 'three turns and one sound' (referring to a house, watch, radio, and bicycle) and a separate marital home. Is my brother really bringing that much money back this time?"

"Don't worry, my dear child."

Liu Cuihua stopped sewing, a fierce glint flashing in her triangular eyes. "Your brother's been bookish to the point of being stupid; he's always been obedient. Who does he spend all that money he earns abroad on? He has to spend it on you! You're the only son in the Shen family; who else would he help if not you?"

She counted on her fingers, going through the accounts for her son item by item, as if Shen Jinghong were already dead and she were dividing his inheritance:

"I've thought it all out. As soon as he walks in, I'll make him hand over all the US dollars he brought back. The money is worthless now, so it's safest to exchange it for gold bars and save it. It'll be perfect as your dowry for when you get married."

"And that so-called 'expert building'."

Shen Yaozu perked up at this, sitting up abruptly. "Yes, yes, yes! I heard the government is allocating big houses to returning experts! Mom, I want to live in an apartment! This dilapidated courtyard house leaks wind in winter and rain in summer, I've had enough!"

"It has to be yours!"

Liu Cuihua spat, "What's the point of your brother, a bachelor, living in such a big house? It's a waste! Let him move to the dormitory! That house must be transferred to your name as your new home. Doesn't that little vixen Zhao Yanzi want to show off? Isn't the 'expert building' impressive enough?"

"And the job?" Shen Yaozu, still not satisfied, asked. "I heard they've arranged a high-ranking official position for him, with a monthly salary of several hundred!"

"We also need to find a way to work."

Liu Cuihua narrowed her eyes, a vampire-like greed on her face. "I've inquired about it. There's a 'substitute' policy now. Just say your brother's health isn't good, or that he's highly conscious and voluntarily gave up his spot to his younger brother. He's been in America for so many years, we'll say his thinking needs reform and he's not suitable to be a cadre, so you, with your impeccable revolutionary background, are perfect to take his place!"

The mother and son became more and more excited as they talked, as if Shen Jinghong was not a living person, but a fat pig waiting to be slaughtered, with every piece of meat and every drop of blood arranged in detail by them.

Just then, a crisp "snap" sound came from the outer room.

Then came the girl's suppressed sobs.

"Eat, eat, eat! All you ever think about is eating! Are you a reincarnated starving ghost?!"

Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, Liu Cuihua suddenly flung open the curtain and rushed out.

Beside the dining table with a missing leg in the outer room, a little girl, so thin she was skin and bones, was covering the back of her hand, tears welling up in her eyes, but she dared not let them fall.

She is Shen Zhaodi, the youngest daughter of the Shen family, and also the lowest-ranking "punching bag" in the family.

She was so hungry that she couldn't resist breaking off a small piece of the slightly moldy cornbread on the table. Before she could even put it in her mouth, Liu Cuihua rushed out from the inner room and slapped her hand hard with chopsticks, leaving a large red and swollen area.

"Mom...I'm hungry..."

Shen Zhaodi's voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's hum, and her eyes were filled with fear.

"Hungry? You might as well starve to death!"

Liu Cuihua snatched the cornbread from her hand and cursed fiercely, "This food is for your second brother! You're a good-for-nothing, you'll belong to someone else's family sooner or later, why are you eating so much? It's a waste of food!"

"But... I haven't eaten for two days..."

"Go get some water! There's plenty of water in the tap; drink your fill and you won't be hungry anymore!"

Liu Cuihua pointed at the small figure, spitting all over the girl's face. "Let me tell you, get rid of that gloomy look on your face! When your older brother comes back, if you dare to say a word, I'll sew your mouth shut! You hear me?"

Shen Zhaodi trembled with fright, huddled in the corner and nodded frantically, tears streaming down her patched trousers.

Liu Cuihua was furious at her daughter's pathetic state and was about to kick her again when someone suddenly knocked on the gate of the courtyard.

The sound wasn't loud, but to the Shen family, it was like the sound of gold coins hitting the ground.

Immediately afterward, the third uncle of the front yard, Yan Bugui, with his distinctive hoarse voice, filled with barely concealed excitement and jealousy, shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Old Shen! Old Shen!"

"Come out and greet him! Your 'American prince'... is back!"

Inside the room, Liu Cuihua and Shen Yaozu exchanged a glance, their eyes instantly lighting up with an alarming gleam, like hungry wolves eyeing fresh meat.

"They're here!"

Liu Cuihua wiped her hands on her apron, and the fierce look on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a kind, motherly smile. Her ability to change her expression in a second was such a skill that it would be a loss for the Peking Opera world if she didn't go into opera.

"Quick! Yaozu, help Mom out! Our cash cow has come in!"