Courtyard House: A Start with Black Gold Swallowing 100,000 Silver Dollars

"Oh? She's really something, quite a match for my daughter."

"However, when it comes to children, it all depends on whether God is kind to us."

Li Wenguo nodded, his tone calm, and said nothing more after finishing his sentence. In his heart, however, he had already made up his mind: he would have the political security department check the young man's resume later. If he was indeed as clean and innocent as the young man claimed, then he would let them do as they pleased; whether it worked out or not was entirely up to them. He would neither stop nor refuse them.

"Hanhan, come, meet your Aunt Qin."

"Quickly call for help."

Li Wenguo stepped aside and gently led Qin Huairu forward, introducing her to his daughter.

"Uh... Aunt Qin!!!"

Li Jinghan's voice faltered for a moment as she stared at the face in front of her, which looked even younger than her own. She forced out two words, her ears turning slightly red. She thought to herself, "What kind of taste does Dad have? He's fifty years old, and he's married a woman who looks like an older sister, and he even calls her 'Auntie'! How can he even bring himself to say that!"

"Oh, hello, Hanhan..."

Qin Huairu instinctively wanted to laugh, but fearing it would be impolite, she could only purse her lips and nod.

"Huai Ru, just call her Jing Han," Li Wenguo gently reminded her.

"Jinghan!" She quickly corrected herself, but her tongue still slurred, and her face burned with heat—her future husband's daughter was half a head taller than her, and her eyes and brows exuded the sharpness of an adult. She didn't look like a little girl who had to call her "Mom." This relationship was so awkward that she wanted to dig her toes out of the courtyard house.

For dinner, Li Wenguo took her to a long-established private restaurant at the entrance of Nanluoguxiang. Ten hot dishes were laid out on the octagonal table, glistening with oil and emitting a fragrant aroma that wafted into one's nostrils.

Qin Huairu stared at the table laden with meat, her throat tightening, almost swallowing hard. For the past year, the meals consisted of coarse grain pancakes or charred sweet potatoes, perhaps mixed with a handful of wild vegetable leaves—meat? Only during festivals would she dare to lick a piece of fatty meat.

She recognized the sweet and sour carp and the roast chicken, but she couldn't even name the amber-colored braised pork knuckle, the oily eight-treasure duck, or the snow-white, soft crab roe tofu, let alone guess what they were made of. Calling her "unworldly" wouldn't be an exaggeration.

"Huai Ru, don't be shy, take whatever you like, and we'll order more if you're still hungry."

Seeing her tense shoulders and the way she gripped the chopsticks so tightly she dared not move, Li Wenguo couldn't help but laugh.

"That's enough, that's enough!" She waved her hand hurriedly, but her eyes were glued to the plate of braised pork knuckle—the plate was big and the portions were generous, with ten dishes piled high. How could they possibly finish it all? Her mind was already racing: she could pack up the leftovers, reheat them at home, and eat them for two more meals. She couldn't afford to waste a single bit.

She had barely put down her chopsticks when Li Wenguo devoured all the remaining food in a flash. She was secretly astonished: her future husband had such a good appetite? That was a good thing—a healthy body meant he could withstand the ravages of time, and perhaps her widowhood would be delayed by ten or twenty years…

She had already found out that Li Wenguo was forty-nine, three years older than her own father. Judging by his energy and spirit, he could easily live to eighty, so if she became a widow at fifty, it wouldn't be too tragic; if she was even luckier, she could live to sixty, by which time her children would have established their own careers and families, and the suffering of being a widow and her children would not befall her at all.

After the meal, Li Wenguo led her through the narrow alley of blue bricks to the courtyard at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang, and went straight to the five newly renovated rooms in the east wing.

Along the way, the neighbors greeted Li Wenguo with smiles, practically bowing to his waist.

"Hello, Factory Manager Li!"

Qin Huairu suddenly realized: So this stern-faced man was actually the factory manager.

As they passed the screen wall, Sha Zhu squatted on the stone steps shelling edamame, Xu Damao leaned against the door frame cracking sunflower seeds, and Jia Dongxu and several young men, cigarettes dangling from their lips, all stared intently at Qin Huairu—who had been personally selected and meticulously dressed by Li Wenguo. Her cheongsam cinched her waist, her hair was neatly styled, and her eyes and brows exuded a captivating charm that made hearts flutter and throats dry.

Tonight, I'm afraid no one will sleep soundly.

"Sigh, I really envy Uncle Li. At his age, he can still marry such a beautiful and lovely woman."

Xu Damao clicked his tongue and sighed, his face full of envy.

He was the one in the factory who knew Li Wenguo's background best.

"So old?"

Sha Zhu was stunned, and the bean pod in his hand fell to the ground with a thud.

"Is it really that bad? Factory Director Li looks to be in his early forties at most!"

Liu Guangqi shook his head, looking completely disbelieving.

"Hehe, what do you know?" Xu Damao lowered his voice, shaking his head smugly. "Uncle Li looks young, but he's actually five years older than Uncle Yi Zhonghai!"

"It's all thanks to eating well, dressing smartly, and living a comfortable life that I've managed to get rid of my wrinkles."

He kept calling him "Uncle Li," but he never actually did. He just wanted to be nice and get others to think more highly of him.

"It's so good to be rich..."

A group of young people watched Li Wenguo's departing figure and silently clenched their fists—one day, they too would earn this dignity.

As soon as Qin Huairu stepped into the room, her eyes lit up as if they were lit, and she couldn't hide her smile.

"Brother Wenguo, this new house is so bright and spacious, are we really going to use it as our wedding home?"

The walls are as white as ever, the furniture is brand new and shiny, and every piece exudes sophistication; what's even more remarkable is that the house has a washroom—so you don't have to fumble in the dark to run to the public toilet outside at night, which is both convenient and dignified.

She stood in the center of the room, her heartbeat quickening, as if she were walking on clouds.

"This one doesn't count; the other four in the courtyard also belong to us."

"When the kids come in droves in the future, there will still be enough room for everyone."

Li Wenguo raised his hand and swept it around the outside of the door, his tone calm, yet every word resonated deeply.

"Um!"

Upon hearing the words "give birth," her ears burned instantly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and she looked so delicate and alluring.

Li Wenguo's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his gaze darkened.

"By the way, Brother Wenguo, here are these two bundles of money back to you."

She picked up two bundles of ten-yuan bills from the shoe store and held them neatly in her hands.

"Keep it for household use. If you want to buy something, just take it and get it."

Li Wenguo didn't even lift his eyelids.

Two thousand yuan? To use as pocket money?

These days, who doesn't live frugally? Qin Huairu's fingertips tightened, and her heart pounded.

The thoughts of the wealthy are truly beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.

"Brother Wenguo, please rest for a while. I'll tidy up the house first."

As soon as she put the money away, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work—wiping windows, cleaning tables, sweeping the floor, and making the bed, her hands and feet moving as fast as the wind. After an hour of work, she brought over a basin of steaming water, squatted down, and gently lifted his feet.

Li Wenguo did not refuse, and felt those soft, boneless hands gently massaging the soles of his feet, a tingling and warm sensation, just like soaking in a foot massage parlor in later generations.

After washing up briefly, he took Qin Huairu's hand, whose eyes were lowered, and led her step by step toward the large and sturdy bed.

She knew exactly what was going to happen next, but she neither hid nor tried to stop it—in any case, she would be formally married in a few days, so what difference did it make whether it was sooner or later?

Once the lights were off, only even breathing and soft rustling could be heard in the room.

For the first time, she tasted the most authentic sweetness and warmth of being a woman.

As soon as dawn broke, Qin Huairu woke up. True to her reputation as the earliest riser and most diligent worker in the courtyard, she nimbly rolled out of bed and headed straight for the kitchen, intending to cook Li Wenguo a bowl of hot soup noodles.

But when he opened the kitchen door, he was stunned.

The pots and pans were all there, the steamer and iron pot were shiny and bright, but the rice jar was empty, the flour bag was flat, and there was not a trace of oil, salt, soy sauce and vinegar.

Even a clever housewife can't cook without rice—this saying really hits home when it comes to her.

Having no other choice, he turned around and went to find Li Wenguo, who was still lazing in bed.

No sooner had I gotten close to the bed than my wrist was grabbed and I was pulled into the warm blankets—the morning light was not yet bright, but I was already burning up.

Whether it was because she was a country girl with good genes or because she was destined to have such a smooth life, her skin was as smooth as jade and her body was flexible and could withstand any hardship. Li Wenguo held her and was reluctant to let go.

I secretly thought to myself: No wonder books always say "a hand holding a Qinhuai delicacy, the whole palm is fragrant", it turns out it's not just made up.

More than an hour later.

She leaned on his shoulder to catch her breath and whispered, "Sir, there's nothing in the kitchen. I can't even cook anything hot..."

"Cooking is too much trouble. Let's eat out."

He answered casually, but his fingers were still slowly circling along her waistline.

"But we can't eat out every day..."

She turned to the side so he could hold her more securely, her words as soft as cotton.

"Okay, I'll have someone send some over later."

In the afternoon, Qin Huairu pushed open the kitchen door and was immediately stunned—

Bags of freshly milled rice were piled up like small mountains, and snow-white flour and golden cornmeal were neatly stacked. Cured meat hung from the rafters, and jars were filled with pickled vegetables. Even dried bamboo shoots, wood ear mushrooms, and dried shrimp were plentiful.

This isn't just "giving away a little bit"; it's practically bringing half a granary!

After a moment of stunned silence, her heart trembled:

The rice grains are plump and full, the noodles are sifted as fine as snow powder, and the cured meat is glistening with oil, its aroma filling the air...

Life is so prosperous that even dreams wouldn't dare to describe it like this!

The sweetness hadn't faded yet, and on the third night, after she had pampered Li Wenguo until he was completely satisfied, she looked up and softly asked:

"Sir, when are we going to get our marriage certificate?"

Only when she had the red booklet in her pocket did she feel truly settled in the city.

This is the dream she has cherished, longed for, and risked her life to achieve for half her life.

"Hmm, in a couple of days, I'll take you to Hong Kong."

Yes, Hong Kong.

Li Wenguo is going to take Qin Huairu to Hong Kong to get their marriage certificate.

Because monogamy is practiced in mainland China, his current wife is He Shuting.

The other wives have long since settled in Hong Kong, are legally registered there, and are protected by law; the mainland has no jurisdiction over them and cannot find fault with them.

Therefore, if he wanted to marry Qin Huairu legitimately, he had to go to Hong Kong to complete the formalities—otherwise, it would be bigamy, it would be considered indecent assault, and he would be imprisoned.

"what?"

"Go...go to Hong Kong?"

Why does it have to be Hong Kong?

Qin Huairu looked completely bewildered.

They were living comfortably in the capital, and now trouble has suddenly arisen out of nowhere. What's the point?

Li Wenguo then patiently explained each point to her.

After realizing what was happening, Qin Huairu's heart tightened, and her voice softened slightly: "Then...then if I become a Hong Kong resident, won't I no longer be considered a Beijing resident?"

She was destined to settle down in the capital; the identity of a "city dweller" was already ingrained in her very bones.

She dreamed of getting rid of her rural household registration, wearing polyester clothing, receiving food coupons, and living in public housing—that was the light in her eyes.