Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

"Squeak—"

The heavy courtyard gate, its vermilion lacquer peeling and even somewhat deformed, was slowly pushed open by a long, strong hand.

The once bustling courtyard, resembling a noisy marketplace, fell silent abruptly, as if someone had suddenly grabbed it by the throat. Dozens of eyes, regardless of age or gender, were now fixed on the figure at the doorway like spotlights.

Shen Jinghong stood outside the threshold, holding the artificial leather suitcase with badly worn edges that he had taken from the dock.

He was wearing a dusty old trench coat, the collar slightly open, revealing a yellowed shirt underneath. His hair was slightly disheveled by the wind and sand, and he exuded the bitterness of a "down-and-out wanderer".

There were no suits and ties as expected, no large bags of imported goods, and certainly no porters carrying mountains of gold and silver behind them.

He was covered in dust and had an innocent, harmless expression.

"This...this is the PhD who went to the United States to study?"

Someone in the crowd muttered quietly, "Why do they look like they just fled a famine?"

Shen Dayong, who was sitting at the head of the octagonal table, froze in mid-air with the wine glass he had just raised. His face, which had been ruddy just moments before, now looked like a wilted eggplant. The greasy red glow had vanished instantly, leaving only visible astonishment and disappointment.

You're back already?

Where's the promised US dollars? Where's the promised car?

"Dad, Mom, I'm home."

Shen Jinghong stepped over the threshold with a gentle yet slightly awkward smile on her face, like a child who had made a mistake and returned home. Her performance was incredibly convincing.

"Oh dear! My son!"

Shen's mother, Liu Cuihua, truly lived up to her reputation as a veteran actress in the courtyard. Although her plans were shattered, she reacted extremely quickly.

She suddenly rushed out of the crowd, pretending to wipe away non-existent tears from the corners of her eyes, while reaching out to grab Shen Jinghong's arm, acting as if she were truly a loving mother longing for her son's return.

"You're finally back! I've missed you so much!"

As soon as Liu Cuihua's hand touched Shen Jinghong's arm, she didn't feel her son's body temperature, but instead very discreetly squeezed the fabric of his trench coat.

Rough and not smooth, it looks like something you'd find at a street stall.

Her heart sank, but she still had to force a smile: "Look at you, you've lost weight! You must have suffered in that capitalist country, right? I knew it wasn't a place for humans to live; nothing beats home!"

"Yes, Mom."

Shen Jinghong withdrew her hand without making a sound, and casually hid the tattered suitcase behind her back. Her tone was so sincere that it made people want to cry, "The prices there are too high. In order to save up for the trip, I have been washing dishes in restaurants for the past few years. I really haven't been eating well."

"Washing dishes?"

Shen Dayong slammed his wine glass on the table with a "bang," his eyebrows instantly furrowing into a knot. "Weren't you going to study and become a great scientist? How did you end up washing dishes?"

The neighbors around immediately burst into meaningful laughter.

"Hey, Lao Shen, it seems your golden phoenix hasn't flown very high after all."

"Exactly, a PhD who studied abroad washing dishes, that's quite a novelty if word gets out."

Faced with the ridicule of the crowd, Shen Jinghong was not angry. Instead, he lowered his head in shame, as if a sore spot had been touched. But beneath his lowered eyelids, a hint of mocking coldness flickered in his eyes.

Laugh now, the happier you are now, the more you'll cry later.

Just as the awkward atmosphere was about to freeze, a sweet, cloying fragrance suddenly wafted over.

"Let's all keep quiet for a bit. Jinghong just got back and hasn't had a chance to catch her breath yet."

A plump woman wearing a floral cotton-padded jacket pushed through the crowd, holding a cup of hot tea, and approached Shen Jinghong with a smile.

Flowers of Qinhuai.

The most cunning "green tea" in this courtyard is the young widow next door to the Shen family, who loves to take advantage of others.

Her peach blossom eyes stared at Shen Jinghong with a watery gaze, her eyes not showing the disdain of others, but rather a shrewd probing.

"Jinghong, don't listen to their nonsense. It's good that you're back; your safety is the most important thing."

Qin Huaihua handed over the tea, leaning against Shen Jinghong as if by accident, her voice soft and sweet, "Look at all this dust, you must be exhausted. Come inside and rest. I have a few eggs, I'll make you some to help you recover."

Shen Jinghong took a half step back, avoiding her "bumping into someone with the ball," and a look of flattered fear appeared on her face.

"Sister Qin, you're too kind. Save the eggs for Bang Geng; I'm not hungry."

"Look at you, child, why are you being so polite with your sister-in-law?"

Qin Huaihua's eyes flickered, but her gaze darted furtively towards the tattered leather suitcase. "This suitcase looks quite heavy. Did you bring back some good books? Should I help you carry it in?"

This isn't about wanting to carry the suitcase; it's clearly about weighing it to see if there are any gold bars inside.

"No need, no need, they're just tattered clothes and rotten books, worthless."

Shen Jinghong held the box even tighter, looking like a poor man afraid someone would steal his meager belongings. "Sister-in-law, your clothes are quite new, don't let them get dirty."

Qin Huaihua's hand froze in mid-air, and the smile on her face almost disappeared.

This kid used to be a bookworm, but after going abroad once, he came back like a slippery eel.

"Alright, alright! What are you all doing gathered around here? Watching a monkey show?"

Shen Dayong finally came to his senses. Although disappointed, he figured that since Jinghong was back, the "cadre position" was inevitable. With a dark face, he waved his hand to shoo the neighbors away, "Go away! Jinghong just got back, let him come inside and talk!"

Liu Cuihua also realized that now was not the time to be disgusted. She should first bring the person into the house and find out the details before making any further decisions.

"Yes, yes, come inside! Your brother is waiting for you inside!"

She pulled Shen Jinghong into the inner room with such force that it seemed she was trying to kidnap him.

Shen Jinghong obediently followed him into the house.

As he lifted the curtain, the scene inside intensified the sneer in his heart.

It was still the same dimly lit and cramped room I remembered, with yellowed newspapers pasted on the walls and clutter piled on the floor. The only difference was that a red paper with black characters, "Job Transfer Application," was now laid out on the octagonal table directly opposite the door, along with a fountain pen and a box of inkpads.

This is like trying to force someone to step in as soon as they enter the door.

"Jinghong, please sit down."

Shen Dayong sat in the armchair, resuming his fatherly demeanor, lit a cigarette, and puffed on it. "This time you came back with just this one suitcase? Nothing else?"

"That's all. The travel expenses were too high, so I sold everything."

Shen Jinghong answered honestly, then pulled over a stool and sat down, not minding that it was dirty.

"So...do you have any US dollars on you?"

Undeterred, Liu Cuihua pressed on, her eyes fixed on his pocket, "I heard that washing dishes in America can earn you a lot of money."

"Mom, you don't know."

Shen Jinghong sighed, looking bitter and resentful. "The taxes are high over there, and I also have to pay rent. All the money I've saved over the years was gone in the time it took to buy a boat ticket. Now I'm penniless."

Upon hearing this, Liu Cuihua's face fell completely, and her feigned motherly demeanor vanished instantly.

"No money? What are you doing back here if you have no money?!"

She slammed the rag on the table and yelled in a shrill voice, "So, after all these years of supporting your education, all you bring back is a box of junk? Your younger brother is getting married, and we still haven't settled the dowry money. How can you, as the older brother, have the nerve to come back empty-handed?!"

"Exactly! I've raised you for nothing! I should have never let you go out to work; it would have been so much better if you had stayed and worked in the factory. By now, we would have already earned enough for our second son's wedding!"

Shen Dayong chimed in, his attitude even more ruthless than that of a landlord demanding rent.

Shen Jinghong sat there, quietly watching the parents' performance.

There was no anger, no sadness, only a detached indifference, like someone watching a play.

These are his family members.

This is what is meant by blood being thicker than water.

When it comes to profit, this blood relation is not even as valuable as a piece of toilet paper.

"Dad, Mom, I want to earn money too."

Shen Jinghong shrugged, her tone somewhat innocent, "But they don't allow us to bring money back over there, so I had no choice. But I'm back now, aren't I? The government has assigned me a job, and once I have a salary, I'll definitely take good care of my parents."

"Work?"

Liu Cuihua's eyes lit up, and she exchanged a glance with Shen Dayong. The time had come to reveal their true intentions.

"Jinghong, speaking of work, Mom needs to discuss something with you."

She cleared her throat, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. "You've been wandering around all these years, your health must be failing. That cadre's job is too strenuous, I'm afraid you can't handle it. You see, how about letting your younger brother..."

Before he could finish speaking, the curtain on the inner room, adorned with the double happiness symbol, was suddenly flung open.

A strong smell of cheap tobacco wafted out instantly.

Immediately afterward, a young man wearing a floral shirt, with slicked-back hair and a slovenly look, swaggered out with a cigarette in his mouth.

Shen Yaozu.

That useless little devil who was pampered by the whole family.

He didn't even glance at Shen Jinghong, but walked straight to the table, plopped down in the main seat, put his legs up on the table, and looked at his older brother whom he hadn't seen for years.

The very first sentence he uttered almost made Shen Jinghong's blood pressure spike.

"Hey, so this is that good-for-nothing older brother who only knows how to wash dishes?"

Shen Yaozu exhaled a smoke ring, flicked his cigarette ash with a look of disgust, and spoke in a contemptuous tone as if he were talking to his dog:

"Alright, now that you're back, stay home and behave yourself. Starting tomorrow, you'll sweep the floor, cook the meals, and do the laundry. I've had those stinky socks for a week now, so you can scrub them while you're at it."

"As for your job position... have you signed the contract? If not, sign it quickly, don't delay my becoming a cadre."