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

The commotion in the yard was so loud that all the neighbors poked their heads out.

When Li Guoxiong bent down to pick up the packages, many people craned their necks and pointed at him from under the wall and in the doorway.

"Tsk, how arrogant the Zhao family is! Bringing all this junk to their door, no one would agree to it!"

"This gift is so shabby that even the cardboard box is yellowed. The person who gave it must be either dirt poor or extremely stingy."

"He has a decent appearance, but unfortunately, his poverty is impossible to hide."

"Even if you're handsome these days, can you exchange your looks for food coupons or cloth coupons?"

"If my daughter were this beautiful, I would rather have her marry into a family like this than allow her to marry into such a family—even if he looks like he stepped out of a magazine."

"He's incredibly stingy! He can't even bear to throw away this little bit of junk, he insists on taking it with him."

"..."

These words pierced his ears like shards of glass, but Li Guoxiong didn't even lift an eyelid. He knew perfectly well that the Li family behind him had roots in the province and branches extending into Beijing. How could these neighbors, who had never even seen a cadre's family member's ID, possibly understand their capabilities?

If you really try to compete with them, it just makes you seem like you're on the same level as them.

He bent down and picked up the gift wrapped in old paper from the ground, because it was bought by Zhao Ziying with all her savings—the money was saved penny by penny, and the sentiment was chosen after she had carefully selected it from the entire street. He couldn't lose this weighty sincerity.

Just as I walked with the gifts to the iron gate of the compound, a clear shout suddenly rang out behind me:

"Guoxiong, wait for me, I'll go with you!"

It's Zhao Ziying.

Immediately following, Zhao's father's roar came crashing down: "You brat! Stop right there! Don't you dare step out the door!"

Zhao's mother's voice softened, but was deeper: "Ziying, what's so good about that man? If you follow him, you'll be waiting in line to starve—what are you after?"

Mr. Zhao completely lost his temper: "Get out! All of you get out! I, Zhao Dashan, will pretend I never raised this daughter!"

Zhao Ziying dragged an old wooden box with worn-out paint as she chased after him, her hair flying wildly in the wind. Li Guoxiong looked at the beads of sweat on her forehead, his throat tightening: "That little house even has crooked window frames, the dampness seeps right into your bones... It's too unfair for a young girl like you to squeeze in there with me."

He had already gotten his marriage certificate, and their relationship was officially established. But to let the person he loved sleep in a drafty crack in the wall was something his conscience couldn't bear.

Zhao Ziying switched the suitcase to her left hand, her right hand naturally hooking around his arm. She chuckled, "Now you're mine. You sleep on the earthen bed, I'll use a straw mat; you drink cold water, I'll hold the bowl—how could I be wronged?"

Li Guoxiong didn't say anything, he just pulled the package of gifts closer to his chest. This girl was worth him and the old man flipping the table.

"Once I start working and get my first paycheck, we'll move to a room with windows," he said.

The two walked out of the courtyard side by side, their shadows stretched long and thin by the setting sun.

……

"Mr. Li, we've found out Liao Zhihua's background."

"The whole family worked at the Second Garment Factory: his father, Liao Daqiao, was the director of the factory office, and his older brother, Liao Zhixing, was in charge of the production department, holding the title of deputy section chief."

Haozi stood by the desk with his hands at his sides, his voice neither loud nor soft.

"The Second Garment Factory?" Li Wenguo tapped the sandalwood paperweight with his fingertips. "Isn't Guoyu the deputy factory manager there?"

Ever since Li Guoyu married Kong Liuting from the Kong family, Li Wenguo put him in a government agency. After eight years of hard work, his deputy director-level official certificate is now buried at the bottom of his drawer.

"And then there's that factory manager, whose daughter married a state gift... Her surname is Qin, but I'm stuck on the given name."

There are so many in-laws, some of whom I've only heard of once. It's already quite an achievement to remember their surnames.

"Qin Weimin, Factory Director Qin," Haozi immediately replied.

He memorized all the connections and relationships of the Li family.

"Yes, Qin Weimin!" Li Wenguo nodded. "Have Guoyu keep a close eye on the Liao family father and son—regarding their conduct, accounting discrepancies, and public complaints. Everything that can be verified must be documented."

Back in the Republican era, if he disliked someone, he could simply draw his blade, and before the blood had even cooled, the case would be closed. Corrupt officials roamed the city; a death in such a case wouldn't even make the corner of the newspapers.

But things are different now. Under military control, the rules are ironclad. Liao Daqiao is, after all, a division-level cadre. If he were to be found dead in the street, the entire city would be locked down, a special investigation team would be dispatched, and in the end, they might turn around and bite the hand that feeds them—it's not worth it.

Li Wenguo doesn't need to risk his life. In the game of officialdom, a move made silently can still nail a person to the bench.

Was there a mistake? Suspension, internal party discipline, and imprisonment.

That's right? Transferred to the archives to guard the storeroom, or sent to a cadre school to copy Mao Zedong's Selected Works annotations for ten years—to retire? Retirement means saying goodbye to officialdom forever.

The same applies to his son, Liao Zhixing.

As for Liao Zhihua?

That depends on whether Li Wenguo wants to shape it into a round shape or flatten it.

The third floor of the textile factory's office building.

"Section Chief He!"

"Section Chief He!"

He Yushui walked along in high heels, her skirt swaying slightly. Young men and women on both sides of the corridor stepped aside, their voices clear and respectful, like a spring breeze blowing through a bamboo grove.

In just two years, she was promoted to deputy section chief.

Two years ago, she was still working standing up in the workshop, her hands never stopping all day long; in winter her fingers would turn purple from the cold, and in summer her back would be soaked with sweat and stick to her clothes. How different it is now—she sits in the office every day, fanning herself when it's hot, and drinking hot water from an enamel mug when it's cold.

I really can't understand Guotao. Being a leader is such a respectable job, but he's so stubborn and insists on sticking to the rules!

He Yushui sighed inwardly and pursed her lips.

"Sister-in-law Rainwater!!!"

Li Guoxian walked towards us, his voice loud and clear.

"Greetings, Uncle Guoxian!"

"What's wrong with you...?"

She immediately stood up straight, her tone respectful. Even though Li Guoxian was just an ordinary staff member in the factory's security department, she never even glanced at him.

Li Guotao, Li Guoxian's husband, had long ago warned him: Li Guoxian's mother was Li Wenguo's lawfully wedded wife, and she held absolute power in the Li family. No concubine, son, or daughter dared to utter a word against her.

So He Yushui was afraid to even breathe too heavily, lest she be found fault with herself when she visited her father-in-law's house for the New Year. That wouldn't just be a few words of scolding; it would be a real beating, with eight loud and crisp slaps across the face.

"Oh, I need to get leave from the director. My younger brother got bullied and came to me for help. I need to take some people over there and get revenge."

Li Guoxian spoke lightly, as if he were talking about borrowing a handful of salt.

He was the king of the neighborhood kids when he was a child, so how could he just stand by and watch his little brother get his face stepped on?

"Uncle Guoxian, it's never good to resort to violence..."

He Yushui had only offered half a word of advice.

"If Guotao is bullied, I will still stand up for him."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and left, leaving behind only the words, "Guojiang, let's go."

—Li Guojiang is Li Guoxian's younger brother and the youngest in the family.

Before Li Guoxian left home, Li Guojiang would follow him around like a tail. When his brother brought his girlfriend back to the courtyard, he would squat by the wall and spy on them; when his sister led someone into the alley, he would also stand guard at the entrance with his pockets in hand. It wasn't until his father, Li Wenguo, dragged him into the woodshed and gave him a severe beating that he dared not follow him anymore.

But one thing hasn't changed: if anything happens, you still have to call your brother.

This time, he was completely tricked by Liao Zhihua's scheme. When he got home, his father grabbed his ear and berated him. The anger in his heart was burning in his throat. He didn't dare to touch Liu Shujuan—her parents had caught him in the act, and he didn't even dare to say a word. He could only push all the blame onto his father.

But Liao Zhihua? He absolutely needs to be taught a lesson.

He rushed into Li Guoxian's room, his eyes red and swollen: "Brother, you have to help me!"

Li Guoxian didn't ask any more questions and turned to find Xiao Fo.

Little Buddha, the only son of Big Eyes.

Wild and stubborn, he disliked the stifling atmosphere of the factory assembly line and refused to work as a factory worker no matter what. Da Yan pondered that since Li Wenguo was involved in gangs in Hong Kong and his own son couldn't make it in the underworld in Beijing, he could at least be a street urchin, or at least half a gangster.

Li Wenguo is still completely unaware of this matter.

The two pushed open the door of a low brick house.

The room was filled with smoke, and several young men were playing cards around a table with a stack of banknotes scattered on it, worth at least several hundred yuan.

It's obvious—the betting is in full swing.

However, Little Buddha is not short of money.

"Brother Fo, is everyone here? Could you please call a few people to accompany my brother and demand an explanation?"

Little Buddha was chubby, with a round face and a slightly protruding belly. When he smiled, wrinkles would gather at the corners of his eyes, making him look exactly like a little Maitreya Buddha. He had been called that since he was a child, and for decades afterward, people in the martial arts world called him "Buddha".

"Oh, young master Guoxian is here!"

He jumped up, his face beaming with smiles—this was the son of his father's master, a difference in status several levels higher.

"Young Master Guoxian!!"

The others also put down their cards, stood up in unison, and their voices were full of respect.

They were all children of the factory's security team, and they had grown up together since childhood. Who didn't know who?

Unable to get jobs in factories and unwilling to farm, they simply became "idle people" in the alleyways.

"And who is this young master?"

Xiao Fo turned his gaze to Li Guojiang, his smile becoming even warmer.

"My younger brother, Li Guojiang."

"This is Little Buddha, the young master of Uncle Big Eyes' family."

Li Guoxian introduced them one by one.

"Little Buddha!"

"Young Master Kunie!"

The pleasantries had barely ended when one of them slipped out to call for help. The remaining few grabbed their enamel mugs, gulped down some water, rolled up their sleeves, and headed straight for Liulichang—the old haunt of Li Guojiang and Liao Zhihua's childhood adventures.

Li Guojiang had already scouted the place and saw the group of people there with his own eyes before he hurriedly dragged his brother along.

At this moment, in that small open space south of Liulichang.

Liao Zhihua was skating very fast on his ice skates.

Liu Shujuan stood on the sidelines, chatting and laughing with a few girls, but her eyes kept glancing at the ice rink.

Liao Zhihua's legs were weak from walking, and he panted as he approached Liu Shujuan.

He lowered his voice and asked, "What happened to that thing the day before yesterday?"

"Has Li Guojiang given his opinion?"

Liu Shujuan nodded, a smile playing on her lips: "I accept it. I said I'll take responsibility, and once my family gives their approval, I'll marry you."

"Tsk, Li Guojiang is really lucky—to be able to marry such a beautiful woman like you."

Before he finished speaking, he glanced around and, seeing that no one was paying attention, quickly ran his fingertips across her cheek, feeling its smooth, warm texture.

"Hmph! Who told you not to marry me? You deserve to be slept with by other men."

My heart is clenched in my throat.

Liu Shujuan frowned, her tone both sour and sullen.

She had long harbored feelings for Liao Zhihua, but he disapproved of her because of her poor family background and the disparity in social status.

"Are you stupid? You really want him to touch you every month? Don't be fooled by his handsome face and good grades and throw yourself into his arms—I can't bear to let that kid ruin you. You can only be mine for the rest of your life."

He paused, narrowed his eyes, and lowered his voice: "Remember this, if you really sleep with him, choose the safe period; the dangerous period? Only I'm allowed to come. The child in your belly must have the surname Liao."

Liu Shujuan nodded hurriedly: "Yes, I'll only have children for you."

This man was the only son of the section chief, so she didn't dare to breathe too loudly.