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

"What's this talk of 'inappropriate'? What's done is done. If you back out now, are you expecting Laifu to give up his position?"

As Mrs. Shen held the enamel mug, she blew on it while speaking, but her hand unconsciously veered towards her second son.

She wasn't protecting her daughter, but clearly her son—Shen Laifu no longer had to feign illness and cough, hiding at home and wasting his days. This morning, he even tried on his newly issued blue work clothes, the cuffs neatly rolled up, just waiting to report to the factory.

"That's right! From now on, every month I'll use my salary to buy eggs for my parents, buy cloth to make cotton-padded coats, and save money for their retirement!"

Shen Laifu grinned, his eyes relaxing.

He just turned twenty-three. If he waited a year, it would be hard to find a partner; if he waited two years, matchmakers would avoid him altogether. Now that his job is secure, he's also starting to see some potential wives—the daughter of Accountant Wang from the next alley. He even asked someone to pass on a message to her a couple of days ago.

"Thump!"

"Thump!"

The pipe slammed heavily against the corner of the octagonal table, making the teacup lids bounce.

"What are you laughing at? Why are you laughing so loudly? Who brought you this job? Your sister got it by offering her marriage certificate!"

Mr. Shen's voice was not loud, but every word sounded like it was hitting the blue brick floor, dull and heavy.

That's right. Li Guozhui already has a proper job. As long as Shen Shanshan agrees to marry him, the two of them can stay in the capital and live a peaceful life without any difficulty.

Shen Shanshan is only eighteen. If she goes to the countryside for three to five years, she will come back in her early twenties and still look young. What about her brother? He is already twenty-three. If he keeps wasting his time, even matchmakers might not bother to come to his door.

"Oh...oh! Thanks, little sister!"

Shen Laifu then turned his face, grinned at his sister, and unconsciously twisted the buttons on his work clothes with his fingers.

He was so perfunctory that he didn't even realize it himself.

Mr. and Mrs. Shen exchanged a glance and remained silent.

This child has a warm heart, but it's boundless, only shining on his own little corner of the world.

Here, take it.

Mr. Shen took out a piece of red paper from his inner pocket, folded it neatly, and pressed the edges flat.

It was an engagement invitation; the ink wasn't completely dry yet.

They've handed me a secure job, so I have to accept the marriage agreement.

"Young man" refers to Li Guozhui.

"Shanshan, you really don't need to go to the countryside." Shen's father paused, his voice softening. "You married Guozhui, your household registration is here, and you'll spend your whole life in the city."

"That's right!" Mrs. Shen chimed in, wiping her eyes. "The South is humid, and the winters are bone-chillingly cold. You've never been away from home since you were little, and I can't sleep at night thinking about it."

They raised her for eighteen years, treating her with utmost care and affection, only to send her off to do menial tasks like carrying manure, harvesting rice, and sleeping in shared dormitories.

"No need to persuade me." Shen Shanshan lowered her head and straightened the cuffs of her faded blue cotton shirt, her voice flat. "Neither Guozhui nor I have any work units. Are we going to stay in Beijing and live off the wind? Or rely on your retirement pensions? Or sponge off his few old houses?"

She looked up, her eyes clear: "Why not work hard for a few years? When we return to the city, the orchard will give us permanent jobs, with household registration, food ration certificates, and housing—everything we need. Only then will our lives truly be comfortable."

Mr. and Mrs. Shen did not speak again.

They knew their daughter all too well—at six, she cooked porridge for her younger siblings; at ten, she helped her father copy account books; and at fourteen, she had rejected three marriage proposals on behalf of the family. Once she made up her mind about something, ten adults couldn't stop her.

The two silently looked at Shen Laifu again. He was squatting on the threshold, whittling a bamboo skewer with a knife, humming an off-key song, as if he could already see himself in work clothes, wearing a safety helmet, picking up his bride at the workshop door.

Mr. Shen sighed softly and turned his head away.

—She's not even as good as this girl.

Three days later, the train tickets and the notice to go to the countryside were delivered to the Shen family. Just as Shen's father opened the envelope, Li Wenguo received the news.

He slammed the ticket stub on the table, his face turning purple: "Good! Very good! He certainly knows how to make his own decisions!"

The spot for the thermos factory was secured only after Li Jinghan personally intervened. With just one phone call, the neighborhood committee pulled up the transfer record: Shen Laifu, male, 23 years old, unemployed.

Further investigation revealed the truth in less than half a day: the Shen family consisted of five people. The eldest son had taken over his father's job as a bus driver; the second son had been feigning illness and staying in Beijing for many years; and the third son, Shen Shanshan, was eighteen years old, a high school graduate, without a job assignment or a romantic partner—until she met Li Guozhui.

Li Wenguo sneered.

How can you swallow this insult after being tricked?

After Li Guozhui and Shen Shanshan boarded the green train heading south, he immediately asked Li Jinghan to withdraw her spot and also asked someone to deliver a message to the street office: Shen Laifu, effective immediately, will be reassigned to Qinglongjiang Farm in the north—where it is freezing cold, snow falls in October, and ice shards are still stuck in the furrows during spring plowing.

The rest remained untouched.

It's not that I don't want to, it's that I'm unwilling.

If each position is filled by a different girl, then on paper, things are even.

He didn't like Shen Shanshan—she was too shrewd, too quiet, and her eyes lacked the impetuousness a young person should have; instead, she seemed like someone who had lived half a life ahead of time.

But my son likes it.

Overjoyed, he knelt in the yard and kowtowed three times until his forehead turned red, only saying, "Dad, I'm sorry."

Li Wenguo ultimately did not utter the words "I don't acknowledge" again.

He simply turned around, went inside, locked the door, and didn't eat all day.

Later, he tacitly allowed his son to continue writing letters to Shen Shanshan.

He guessed that when Shen Shanshan received the first letter from home and saw the notice to report to Qinglongjiang Farm tucked inside, she would know that her brother had lost his job and left, along with the little hope she had gained in the past, all shattered in the north wind.

Will she regret it then? Will she turn around and leave Li Guozhui?

He neither stopped them nor helped them.

Just watch.

Inside the Shen family's house, the light bulb shone dimly.

"Dad! Mom! I'm not going to Qinglongjiang! I'm not going to the countryside!"

Shen Laifu slumped on a small stool, his work pants still covered in wall dust from the morning, his hands trembling so much he could barely hold the enamel mug.

He had just heard that he would have to pack his bags and take a train north tomorrow.

---

"It's so cold there that your ears could freeze off. If I went there, I'd be dead."

"I'm not going! I'd rather die than go!"

Shen Laifu slumped on the bamboo chair, his hands covering his head, his voice cracking like a rooster being strangled.

"Sigh—I told your mother long ago that Shanshan's idea was very risky. If she had listened to me and married that young man honestly, she would have had a stable life. Why would she have to drag her whole family to the countryside?"

Mr. Shen squatted on the threshold, only realizing his cigarette had burned his fingers before he stubbed it out hard in the crack between the bricks. His shoulders slumped, his back was hunched, and the new wrinkles on his forehead were deep enough to trap a grain of rice.

How did such a perfectly good family fall apart?

Sitting by the stove, the firelight reflected off her red-rimmed eyes, and tears silently fell into the ashes, spreading into a small dark patch.

But this is not a matter for them to agree or disagree with.

Li Wenguo had just finished dealing with the messy trouble caused by his son Li Guozhui, and before he could even sit down comfortably, another blow came crashing down on him.

This time, it was deeper and louder.

Right there in the corridor of the police station, he grabbed Li Guohang by the collar and punched him twice in the face. Blood splattered onto the rim of the enamel cup, like a small patch of rust.

This is how it all started—

This child's name is Li Guohang, Xiuxiu's biological son, born in 1948, and currently twenty-five years old. He teaches physical education at the county high school under the jurisdiction of the Construction Bureau. Needless to say, he's the one the family worries about the least.

Teaching physical education? Easy. Two classes a day, you can get by copying the lesson plan three times; homework? Forget about it; exams? No need to grade them at all. As leisurely as a cicada in the treetops, just waiting for summer to end before taking a break.

But when people are idle, their bones become weak and their hearts turn to crooked paths. He actually got together with a high school girl in his class.

In a large forest, what bird won't fly? Li Wenguo has many sons, but this one just happened to run into the barbed wire fence.

Her belly quietly started to swell, and it wasn't until she was almost five months pregnant and her pants were too tight that her family noticed. When the girl's parents saw that their daughter could no longer wear her school uniform, they were furious. Without even asking what had happened, they grabbed the phone and dialed 110. The police arrived faster than an ambulance. When Li Guohang was dragged out of the office in handcuffs, the entire school's teachers and students had gathered at the entrance of the building to watch the spectacle.

Want to settle this privately with a payout? Too late. The news has already spread throughout the playground, the cafeteria, and the teachers' dormitories.

What's worse—Li Guohang was already married, clearly stamped in red on his household registration. He couldn't marry the girl, but he couldn't escape being sentenced to prison.

Two years in jail was only achieved because the Li family had someone erase half of his criminal record. Otherwise, according to the rules, it would have been at least five years. After all, the other party was still a student who hadn't graduated yet.

To silence the girl's family, the Li family promised that as soon as the girl graduated, they would immediately arrange for her to become a formal employee at the county supply and marketing cooperative; and that the child would be registered in the Li family genealogy and bear the surname Li.

When the news reached Qingyan County, Li Guoxin felt a chill run down his spine.

He regretted it. He should have listened to the old man and been determined to send Tian Tian to Hong Kong—even if it meant a falling out, it would have been better than this.

as predicted.

That day, as soon as he stepped out of the county government gate, he looked up and saw a young woman in a lotus-colored cheongsam standing under the shade of a locust tree across the street, holding a small baby wrapped in blue cloth. She glanced at him, said nothing, simply lifted the child up slightly, turned and walked away, her hair swaying gently in the wind.

Li Guoxin's heart skipped a beat—this was an invitation for him to come over.

How dare they be this bold?

His face instantly darkened, like the sky before a thunderstorm.

"County Magistrate Li, you're back?"

Chang Daman pushed a worn-out old-fashioned bicycle to greet us, his eyes crinkling into three wrinkles as he smiled, looking just like a freshly steamed bun.

That's right, he was transferred here too. Qingyan County has always been a place where cadres are "sent down" to the countryside. Whoever is sent here is practically given a "preparatory ticket for gilding their resume".

Li Guoxin immediately adopted a gentle yet measured expression: "Oh, Section Chief Chang is off work too?"

"Indeed! I was just thinking of getting a meal from you, County Magistrate Li, would you do me the honor?"

Chang Daman rubbed his hands together, his fawning undisguised. He knew very well that this man was a dignitary from the capital, and his visit to the county was merely a formality; in the future, he might be promoted by stepping on Chang Daman's shoulders.

"No, the stove is still burning at home."

Li Guoxin waved his hand politely, but quickened his pace.

He went straight back to the west apartment on the third floor of the family building.