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

The next day, when the sun was high in the sky, he slowly got up.

Nothing unusual—a strange room, a hard bed that hurt my back, tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning before finally closing my eyes, so naturally I woke up late.

After washing up, he took out the meat buns he had put in his personal space yesterday.

"This portable space is a damn lifesaver!"

Holding the steaming hot meat bun in his hands, the aroma wafted into his nose, and Li Wenguo couldn't help but smile.

He ate three meals before pushing open the door and leaving.

"Look, that's the kid. He rented two rooms across the street yesterday."

A man was squatting on the threshold of the west wing, slurping down his porridge. He caught a glimpse of Li Wenguo's back and turned to talk to his wife inside.

He was in his early thirties, with narrow eyelids, small eyes, and a face full of fat; he was clearly not a peaceful person.

His name is Mo Datou.

I just got back last night and didn't even see Li Wenguo.

"Yes, it's him."

The daughter-in-law sat by the well washing clothes, replying without looking up.

"She booked two rooms at once; with her delicate skin, she must have some kind of figure to begin with?"

Mo Datou rubbed his chin, a glint of malice in his eyes, like a wolf eyeing a lamb.

"Honey, don't let his clean-cut and refined appearance fool you. He's got a sharp tongue and a ruthless hand – we can't afford to mess with him."

"Be careful not to end up with nothing but a bite from the mouth."

The daughter-in-law whispered words of advice, her hands never stopping.

"You bitch, shut your mouth! I'm from the Little Green Gang, what am I afraid of?"

Mo Datou, unable to save face, suddenly raised his voice and yelled at his wife.

But that fierce glint vanished in the blink of an eye.

The Little Green Gang? It's just a bunch of thugs in some remote corner of Beijing, with only a dozen or so members. Larger gangs are everywhere, as numerous as hairs on a cow.

Calling it a "gang" is an understatement—in terms of sheer strength, any martial arts school could easily take someone out and beat them up right in front of it.

They usually just bully the honest, hardworking people.

Upon hearing that Li Wenguo was no pushover, those wicked thoughts immediately disappeared.

This was the talisman Li Wenguo had earned by glaring at the enemy when he was haggling yesterday.

……

In the blink of an eye, Li Wenguo was standing at the door of the horse tooth shed again.

This time, he came looking for work.

Ma Ya Fang not only handles renting and selling houses, but also provides services such as matchmaking, marriage matching, writing legal documents, and even fortune telling.

The shop isn't big, but it has everything you need, covering a little bit of everything.

After all, it's an old snake rooted in the ground, coiled up, able to suck the life force out of its neighbors.

Although Li Wenguo had saved up some capital and was thinking of opening a small shop, the current political situation was as chaotic as a boiling oil pot—there were countless tax categories, and if you encountered a corrupt official, they would collect the taxes that would be levied ten years in advance.

Moreover, all sorts of thugs, hooligans, and idlers on the streets were begging for money—one group would come to extort a sum today, another group would come to rip them off tomorrow, and yet another group would come to squeeze them dry the day after. Before they could even make a profit, their savings had been almost completely drained.

Not paying?

Sure!

Those who follow the rules simply block the shop entrance, keeping all customers outside;

Those who were more aggressive grabbed stools and smashed things, sending glass shards flying everywhere...

After much deliberation, Li Wenguo finally decided that he needed to find a respectable job as soon as possible to elevate his status so that people would listen to him and he could walk with confidence.

This is Beiping during the Republican era.

Identity is your lifeline.

But this thing is extremely precious; it's not something you can earn easily.

Children from ordinary families, no matter how learned or eloquent they are, often find it difficult to get ahead.

"Yo!"

"Wen Guo is here!"

As soon as Ma Yafang saw Li Wenguo enter, he immediately put on a big smile and quickly went to greet him.

I just made a commission yesterday, and I'm about to open for business again today. How could I not feel elated?

"Haha, Brother Ma."

"I'm troubling you again."

Li Wenguo greeted him with a smile, and the two exchanged pleasantries, becoming as familiar as brothers.

"Oh dear, you flatter me, brother!"

"I wish you'd come to my door every day to ask me for favors! Brother Wenguo is straightforward and efficient, just like my brother. I really wish I had met you ten years earlier!"

After exchanging a few polite words, they finally got down to business.

"You've attended a private school and are literate; you'd be more than qualified to work as an accountant or manager in any business."

The horse dealership began to devise suitable jobs.

"Brother Ma, are there any vacancies in the foreign firm?"

Although the business is good, it has some kind of backing. If you can become a middle manager there, you will have a lot more power than the old and young men in Jiucheng Hutong. Even thugs will avoid you.

But Li Wenguo had another scale in his heart—

If we're really talking about lineage, influence, and backing, we have to look to foreign firms.

In this day and age, Westerners call the shots.

Foreign-owned trading companies were treated with great respect, even by the officials in the government. How impressive was that?

Not to mention that everyone in the city had eyes that gleamed with foreignness: being associated with foreigners instantly made you valuable; being close to foreigners doubled your worth.

"Well..."

"Brother Wenguo, the position in the foreign firm is practically nonexistent. Even if it were, you'd need to know foreign languages. You…"

Ma Yafang looked troubled.

In his eyes, someone who came from a private school and could at most recognize a few words was hardly qualified to work for a foreign firm.

Unless you can speak a foreign language—after all, foreigners are everywhere in foreign firms, and if you can say a few words of foreign language, you can at least act as a mouthpiece.

Li Wenguo was not intimidated by this at all.

In his past life, he was a top student from a 985 university. Although his major did not rely on foreign languages, he easily passed the CET-6 (College English Test Band 6) and scored high marks in every course on foreign trade practice.

You can chat with foreigners about the weather, discuss contracts, or have casual conversations without needing to prepare anything.

"Don't worry, Brother Ma. I studied foreign books back in the private school days and even dealt with foreigners. I can handle it."

He patted his chest, his tone resolute.

"Don'tworry,Englishisapieceofcakeforme…"

To reassure Ma Yafang, he immediately launched into a string of fluent English.

To be honest, even though Ma Yafang couldn't understand the words, his accent, rhythm, and Westernized style were undeniably captivating.

It's obviously not something made up on the spot.

How many foreign languages ​​has he heard in his life?

English, French, Japanese, German—the sounds drift through the streets and alleys; you can tell the real from the fake with just one listen.

"Ouch!"

"I never imagined that Master Li not only attended a private school but also studied abroad! Old Ma is truly impressed, utterly impressed!"

Upon hearing that Li Wenguo was fluent in foreign languages, Ma Yafang's smile immediately changed from warm to respectful, addressing him as "Master Li" repeatedly, and his back unconsciously bent a little.

These days, Chinese people who can speak foreign languages ​​are extremely rare.

As long as you know how to make this dish, even if you're just doing errands or odd jobs, you'll be more successful and influential than 99% of the people in Beijing.

If you really manage to get close to a foreigner, your status will skyrocket.

"About that foreign firm..."

"Come on, come on! I'll take you there right away!"

Time flies.

Three months have passed in the blink of an eye, and it's almost the end of the month.

Today is payday at Indrich & Co.

Just by looking at the word "English" in the name, you know it's a business from Great Britain.

Originally a joint venture between Britain and Germany, called Anglo-Germany; however, after Germany collapsed following World War I, John Bull took the opportunity to acquire all the shares, making it a purely British-owned enterprise.

The brand-new office was spotless, with bright, clean windows and gleaming lights.

"Brother Li, judging by your beaming smile, your commission this month must be bubbling up!"

"Shouldn't we treat everyone to a meal?"

As soon as Xu Meijing saw Li Wenguo push open the door of the finance office, she immediately went to greet him, her lips curving like a new moon in early spring, her eyes sparkling.

She is just as her name suggests—bright but not flashy, gentle but not timid.

With her slightly wavy Western-style perm and a sharply tailored Lolita business suit, she looked exactly like the capable young woman working in an office building twenty years from now.

Li Wenguo glanced at her, then suddenly called out loudly into the office, "Alright! It's my treat today, Bianyifang, all the ducks you can eat!"

"Alright—!"

The room erupted in cheers, the laughter filled with a sense of relief.

Several young employees exchanged knowing glances, their eyes full of mischievous glee, as if they'd found a sucker.

But before he could finish speaking, a drawn-out, mocking laugh pierced the air—

"Colleagues get together for a meal and they eat roast duck? Tsk tsk..."

"So stingy, are they trying to fob us off like beggars?"

"In my opinion, Fuyuan Restaurant is the only one worthy of this lavish display!"

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw Hong Liutao leaning against the door frame, playing with a pen in his hand, with a half-smile on his face.

The room fell silent for a moment, and everyone picked up their teacups and abacuses, almost ready to grab a stool and start cracking sunflower seeds.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"Bianyifang is too shabby, Fuyuan shows true sincerity!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Huang Kun, a man in his early forties with small eyes and a round face, slowly chimed in, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

Li Wenguo's stomach churned violently—

Fuyuan Restaurant?

You two bastards just spout nonsense?

Is that place a place to eat? It's a money-burning kiln!

After just one meal, two months' salary vanished.

Currently, his monthly salary is fifty yuan, not including sales commission.

To actually step into Fuyuan, you need at least a hundred silver dollars; otherwise, you won't even get a chance to get into a private room.

Outrageously expensive, and heartbreakingly ruthless.

Anyone would be furious in that situation.

Li Wenguo was usually kind and friendly, always speaking with a smile, and never put on airs.

Lately, however, Mavis Hee has been frequenting his workstation, offering him tea and manuscripts, and her eyes have become unusually bright.

Hong Liutao had already been watching this matter closely—he was already pursuing Xu Meijing, so how could he allow someone to interfere?

As for Huang Kun? Ha, that old fox only has eyes for the clinking of silver dollars.

The moment they smelled a bit of oil or grease, they would immediately throw themselves into it, not caring about the smell at all.

Li Wenguo also heard gossip that on the day Huang Kun's younger brother died, he pried open the ancestral hall lock and transferred all the family property into his own account book.

That night, his sister-in-law was forced into a brothel, and the eight-year-old nephew knelt in front of the red gate the next day, becoming someone's servant.

They are worse than animals, the worst of beasts.

In the Republic of China era, this kind of thing wouldn't be considered a crime—or even a scandal.

The disputes among wealthy families over inheritance and succession were more lively than the scramble for cabbages at the market.

Others took it all as ordinary and didn't even bother to shake their heads.

"If it were me, I would have done the same," someone muttered to themselves.

Li Wenguo is not made of dough.

He had already agreed to treat everyone today with this in mind—he lifted his eyelids and replied crisply, "Fuyuan? My body can't handle it. There will be plenty of duck, but if you want to go, you two can pay for it yourselves. I'm sorry, I can't join you."

"Hmph!" Hong Liutao sneered on the spot, "Li Wenguo, you look so dignified, but you're a real miser!"

"Yes, I am stingy."

"What's wrong?"

"Go ahead and bite me!"

Li Wenguo raised his chin, his eyes as cold as ice.