Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

That box of golden yellow croakers, like a red-hot iron, burned fiercely onto Sha Zhu's retina and into his heart, which had long been twisted by poverty and humiliation.

His breathing became heavy, and his chest heaved laboriously like an old bellows.

His eyes were fixed on the neatly stacked gold bars, his Adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably as he swallowed hot saliva, and even more so, an unnamed fire burning within him.

That golden light seemed to possess a bewitching magic, instantly devouring all his reason, leaving only the most primal and naked greed.

So much gold!

The thought exploded in his mind like a thunderclap across a barren wasteland. The most money he had ever seen in his life was the thick stack of "big unity" bills in the accountant's hand when the factory paid wages, but even all that money combined probably couldn't buy a single gold bar here.

If... if only I could take one...

No! Half a stick!

Just half a stick would be enough for Sha Zhu to live a life of luxury for the rest of his days. He would never have to see Old Liu's sullen face in the kitchen again, listen to Xu Damao's sarcastic remarks in the yard, or bow and scrape to the factory leaders and live like a boneless dog!

He could even walk up to Qin Huairu with his head held high, not as a cook giving away leftovers, but as a wealthy man.

He could slam the money on the table and tell her to stop letting Banggeng steal chickens and dogs, and to stop wasting time arguing with people over a few cents. He could marry her, marry her openly and honestly, and have her give him a healthy, chubby son!

He could also buy a courtyard even larger than a traditional courtyard house, with green tiles and blue bricks, a garden, and a fish pond.

He wanted to hire several servants: one to cook, one to clean, and one to massage his legs and shoulders. He wanted to eat meat every day, drink wine with every meal, and live the life of a superior person that he never even dared to dream of!

Once this thought popped into his head, it was like a wildly sprouting vine with sharp barbs, instantly wrapping around his entire soul, almost suffocating him, yet bringing a morbid pleasure.

He Yuanchao took in Sha Zhu's instantly changing expression and the fleeting, undisguised greed in the depths of his eyes.

He sneered inwardly, his judgment of human nature once again proven correct. In this world, those who could resist such temptation were extremely rare. And Sha Zhu was clearly not one of them.

This was exactly the result he wanted. He needed Sha Zhu as a "target"—a simple-minded, driven, and easily swayed target. In the turbulent days to come, this target would act like a magnet, drawing away most unnecessary attention and potential dangers.

A fool like Zhu, blinded by greed, is undoubtedly the easiest to control. He's like a blindfolded donkey; just dangle a carrot in front of him, and he'll tirelessly grind grain for you.

"Shazhu," He Yuanchao's calm voice rang out, like a bucket of cold water, instantly shattering Shazhu's cloud-like fantasies, "Move these boxes upstairs to the guest room. Be careful not to bump or knock them over; the things inside are valuable."

He deliberately emphasized the word "precious," as if reminding or warning him.

"Ah? Oh...oh! Okay! Okay, Director He!"

Sha Zhu snapped out of his daze, jolted awake, and hurriedly nodded and bowed in response. A fawning smile squeezed onto his honest face, but his eyes couldn't help but greedily peek into the open box, as if glued to it.

He stepped forward, took a deep breath, bent down, and reached out to lift one of the boxes.

"Hey!"

As soon as he held the box, an unexpected weight overwhelmed him, causing him to stumble and nearly lose his balance. This immense weight was unlike any ordinary wooden box; it was clearly a box of real wealth! This tangible sensation was even more shocking than the golden light, intensifying his greed.

He gritted his teeth and used all the strength he had to carry rice and flour in the kitchen to barely lift the box and slowly, heavily, climbed the stairs. With each step, he felt as if he wasn't carrying a box, but a mountain of gold that could crush him at any moment.

Over the next two days, He Yuanchao, under the pretext of "needing to investigate the Shanghai market and find sales channels for the factory's new products," dressed neatly every day and left early and returned late.

As for Sha Zhu, he arranged for him to stay in the Lin family's small villa, ostensibly to "protect" the safety of those boxes of gold.

This was exactly what Sha Zhu wanted.

In the huge mansion, he was left all alone. Every day, he guarded those few boxes of gold, like a starving beggar guarding a treasure mountain that exuded an enticing aroma; every minute and every second was torture.

Countless times he thought of opening the box, secretly taking just one gold bar, then immediately buying a train ticket and flying away to a place where no one knew him. He even imagined the details: wrapping the gold bar with strips of cloth around his calves, wearing baggy trousers over it, so that no one could tell.

But he was also afraid.

He feared He Yuanchao's unpredictable methods. This young man appeared refined and cultured, but he was meticulous in his actions, and his eyes always held a chilling insight, as if they could see through all the sordid thoughts in his mind. He was also afraid of the Lin family's unfathomable background. To be able to live peacefully in such a small villa in this situation, and to have so much gold hidden in their home, this family was definitely not one he could afford to offend.

Greed and fear, like two vicious venomous snakes, tore at his heart day and night. One snake hissed, "Take it! Take it and you'll be on top of the world!" The other snake coldly warned, "Don't move! Move and you'll be doomed!" These two thoughts tore him apart, causing him great torment. He became haggard, his eyes sunken and bloodshot.

Meanwhile, He Yuanchao focused intently on doing what was truly important during those two days.

Instead of going to any department stores or supply and marketing cooperatives, he went directly to the most famous antique market in Shanghai, the City God Temple, and the secondhand market on Lingling Road.

Just before stepping into the market, he activated the skill book on "photographic memory" and "proficiency in antique calligraphy and painting appraisal".

In an instant, a flood of knowledge about antiques, calligraphy and paintings, porcelain, jade, and miscellaneous items poured into his mind like a burst dam. From the clay and glaze of pottery to the brushstrokes and seals of calligraphy and paintings, and the grain and patina of wood... those originally difficult and obscure methods of appraisal were now as clear as his instincts.

His eyes seemed to have transformed into a high-precision scanner.

Anything that comes into his view, once glanced at, will immediately reveal its authenticity, age, material, craftsmanship, historical value, and market value decades from now.

He changed into a simple old outfit, his face bearing a perfectly balanced expression of curiosity mixed with timidity, like an ordinary person who had just come from the countryside and wanted to find some bargains.

With the cash he carried, he quietly acquired a batch of items in the market that others considered "junk," but in his eyes, they would be priceless "bargains" decades later.

In a dimly lit corner, he saw an old painting being used as wallpaper, covered in dust and grease. The stall owner, finding it too bulky, was about to throw it away as waste paper for five cents. He Yuanchao's gaze swept over the blurry seal and almost illegible inscription in the corner of the painting, and he was shocked—it was Tang Bohu's "Autumn Mountains and Asking the Way" from the Ming Dynasty! He calmly bargained with the stall owner and finally bought it for two cents plus two industrial coupons, along with a few pieces of real waste paper, "casually."

At a pickled vegetable stall, he found a blue-and-white porcelain jar used for pickling vegetables, with several chips on the rim. The stall owner's wife was using it while complaining about how bulky it was. He Yuanchao only glanced at the linen pattern on the bottom of the jar and the deep cobalt blue color, and knew it was an authentic Yuan Dynasty blue-and-white porcelain jar. He made an excuse that his family also needed a pickled vegetable jar, and easily traded it for a piece of cloth he had bought at a clearance price.

There were also a few stones mixed in with ordinary pebbles, priced at one cent each. To others, they were just ordinary stones with a slightly yellowish color, but under He Yuanchao's "scanner," their warm texture and delicate radish-like patterns clearly told him—these were top-grade Tianhuang stones that had long been depleted!

He used the most inconspicuous methods, such as wrapping these items in rags and binding them with straw ropes, to move them in batches and in stages to an inconspicuous little warehouse located in a remote alley that he had rented in advance using a false identity.

Having done all this, He Yuan-chao leisurely began his "Golden Transfer" plan.

He found Lin Dechang in a completely safe room and got straight to the point: "Mr. Lin, the gold is too big a target. A whole box of gold is extremely risky to transport, let alone out of Shanghai, even out of this street. I've come up with a plan, which is to break it down into smaller parts and use a feint to covertly advance the main road while secretly making a covert advance."

He laid out his entire plan.

That is, to quietly exchange a portion of the gold bars on the black market through some of the Lin family's remaining reliable channels for jewelry, diamonds, and US dollars that are easier to carry, have higher value density, and are less likely to arouse suspicion.

Then another portion of the gold bars was completely melted down and cast into various inconspicuous shapes of everyday items for disguise.

"For example," He Yuanchao picked up a thermos on the table and gestured, "we can make the inner liner of the thermos out of gold, while the outer shell remains ordinary. Who would bother to crack it open? Or, for example, we can make belt buckles, shoehorns, or even the handle of a latrine spoon... The more unexpected and the more filthy something seems, the safer it is."

This idea, bold, unconventional, and yet ingenious, drew repeated nods from Lin Dechang, his eyes filled with amazement. Looking at the composed and calm young man before him, he felt even more admiration and relief. His son, far away overseas, truly had a keen eye for talent!

So, over the next few days, He Yuanchao, along with Sha Zhu, began his "disguise" work.

He had Sha Zhu, the former cook, use his "special skill"—playing with fire. In an abandoned flower shed in the Lin family's backyard, a makeshift stove was set up. Using high-heat coke, the gold bars that had once captivated Sha Zhu were thrown one by one into the crucible, melting them into a radiant liquid.

Sha Zhu watched as the shimmering gold liquid, under his own hands, was poured into strangely shaped molds, eventually transforming into "parts" such as "belt buckles," "shoehorns," "thermos bottle liners," and even "toilet brush handles." His heart ached terribly, as if what was being melted was not gold, but his own heart and liver.

More than once, he cried out in his heart, "What a tragedy! What a tragedy! Such fine gold, just wasted like this!"

But he dared not disobey He Yuanchao's orders, so he could only work obediently while feeling sorry for He Yuanchao.

He Yuanchao, taking advantage of this opportunity, secretly mixed the real "treasures" he had acquired from the antique market with these "junk" disguised in gold, preparing to pack them together.

Two weeks later, all the preparations were completed.

Those two hundred or so large yellow croakers, which could dazzle anyone, have disappeared from the villa.

Instead, there were several ordinary-looking suitcases.

Inside were some changes of clothes, some local specialties from Shanghai, and some heavy gold items, including a shoehorn, a belt buckle, and a thermos liner.

And then there were the truly priceless treasures—Tang Bohu's paintings, Yuan blue-and-white porcelain jars, and several pieces of invaluable Tianhuang stone—which He Yuanchao had cleverly hidden in the interlayer of his suitcase, wrapped in layers of oilcloth and cotton clothing.

"Silly Zhu, it's time to go back."

That day, He Yuanchao looked at Sha Zhu, who had lost weight but whose eyes were becoming increasingly greedy and struggling, and said calmly.

Sha Zhu's heart skipped a beat, as if it had been gripped tightly by an invisible hand.

He knew this was his last chance. Once he left the mansion and returned to the capital, to that familiar environment, he would never have any further access to this wealth.

Should they obediently follow He Yuanchao back, continue as his "assistant," and collect that fixed salary; or...?

Want to take a gamble? Just this one gamble. If you win, you'll be rich and powerful! If you lose, you might as well die!

Just as he was struggling internally, his back soaked with cold sweat, He Yuanchao seemed to read his mind, suddenly turned around, patted him on the shoulder, and said:

"Shazhu, you've worked hard this time in Shanghai. You guarded the things day and night, and later helped with those 'parts'. You deserve credit for your hard work, even if you didn't do anything special."

He paused, his tone earnest, "When I get back, I'll talk to Director Lou. The logistics team is short of a driver, and I think you'd be perfect. I'll transfer you there. It might not sound as prestigious as working in the technical department, but it'll offer more freedom and better pay. You'll be so impressive driving around like that."

driver!

These days, being a driver is an incredibly desirable profession! You're respected when you're out and about, and you can earn a lot of extra money—it's a dream job that countless people would kill for!

Sha Zhu's eyes lit up instantly.

Is this... a bribe? Or rather, a hush money and a reward for my hard work?

He looked at He Yuanchao's calm and composed face, seeing no trace of scheming, only sincerity. The greed that had just ignited in his heart, the greed he was ready to recklessly pursue, was extinguished by this sudden "benefit."

He began to hesitate. On one hand, it was a high-stakes gamble with a slim chance of survival; on the other, a bright future within reach. For a cook like him to have become a driver was already incredibly lucky.

He Yuanchao ignored his complicated expression, turned around, and began packing his last belongings.

Just as he bent down to lift the heavy box filled with "golden shoehorns" and "golden belt buckles," a small package wrapped in oil paper slipped out of his pocket as if by accident, fell to the ground with a "thud," and rolled to Sha Zhu's feet.

Sha Zhu subconsciously looked down.

Through the gaps in the oil paper wrapping, in a corner that wasn't completely sealed, several dazzling, shimmering diamonds were visible...

Although small, under the dim light, the light refracted by the exquisitely cut gemstone was more dazzling than all the gold combined! And more... valuable! Although Sha Zhu had never seen a real diamond, he had heard that it was much more precious than gold, and even a small one was worth a fortune!

Sha Zhu's breathing stopped instantly.

A buzzing sound went through his mind, as if a string had snapped completely. All reason, all fear, all hesitation, all the beautiful fantasies about the "driver" were utterly crushed in that instant by those few small stones, which contained immeasurable wealth!

He suddenly looked up and saw He Yuanchao with his back to him, bent over, intently tidying the straps of another box, seemingly unaware that he had dropped something.

A crazy idea, like the howl of a demon, exploded in his mind:

Take it!

Just this once! Without anyone noticing!

With this, you'll be a superior person! Drivers, Qin Huairu, and big courtyards—none of it will matter!

Sha Zhu's body bent over uncontrollably...