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

"Here they come—new bell-bottoms from Hong Kong! Men's and women's sizes available, the same style worn by singer Xu Jie!"

"Here they come—affordable small commodities: washbasins, enamel mugs, tin pencil boxes—everything is durable and even comes with flowers!"

"Here it comes—Hong Kong-made electronic watches, accurate ticking, shiny straps, and super stylish to wear!"

"Here it comes—a tape recorder that doesn't require a ticket! Comes with a complete set of brand new cassettes, including Teresa Teng, Lo Ta-yu, and Leslie Cheung, not a single one missing!"

"Here it comes—the transistor radio that doesn't require a ticket! Stable tuning, loud sound, and clearer broadcasts than the loudspeakers in the courtyard!"

In just one month, Xiushui Street has changed completely.

The street was packed with stalls of all sizes, with people carrying loads on shoulder poles, pushing carts, and carrying baskets. The crowds were thick with people, and the sounds of shouts, bargaining, and bicycle bells blended together to create a lively and bustling atmosphere.

At the end of the street, in a small courtyard with blue bricks, there were seven or eight old wooden tables in the courtyard. Several young people were drinking tea and playing cards, relaxed and carefree.

Just then, a stall owner in a blue cloth jacket rushed in, panting. His stall was almost empty, and his wife was standing on tiptoe, peering inside. He didn't even bother to wipe his sweat; he went straight to a table in the middle.

"Brother Xiao Cong! Quickly prepare a hundred pairs of bell-bottoms for me, half for men and half for women, all sizes available—I'll pay you back first!"

He pulled a stack of banknotes from his canvas bag with a clatter; they were brand new, and the edges still smelled of ink.

Xiao Cong dipped his finger in saliva, quickly pointed it out, and gestured with his chin toward a tall, thin young man next to him: "Go, bring the goods out."

That's right, Xiao Cong was just released from prison a while ago, and now he's in charge of shipping in the yard. It's an easy job, he doesn't have to run errands, and he doesn't have to deal with anyone's attitude. It's a stable job that his old buddies picked out for him.

Before he could finish speaking, another stall owner wearing a straw hat leaned in through the doorway: "Brother Xiao Cong! One hundred batwing shirts and one hundred floral shirts, bright colors only! They need to be shipped out this afternoon!"

While business was booming here, Li Guozhui stood under the shade of a locust tree at the west gate of Peking University, carrying a paper bag printed with the words "Beijing No. 2 Electronics Factory," waiting for Shen Shanshan.

Yes, Aunt Xianglan made the decision and insisted on including Li Guozhui in the list of partners—she thought the job at the popsicle factory was too shabby, so she thought it would be better to follow Guoxian and Guohang and try her luck, where she could earn real "cash."

However, Li Guoxian was only a nominal shareholder, and only showed up to pull strings when things went wrong; Li Guozhui resigned from his factory job to manage the accounts and cash flow; and Li Guohang spent every day at the dock and warehouse, monitoring, inspecting, and calculating orders. The three of them each took charge of their own area, which was quite reassuring.

Li Guozhui waited at the school gate for about ten minutes before Shen Shanshan walked over from afar, with Zhang Ruoxuan and Li Yingxia following behind on either side, like two leaves inseparable from a branch.

"Shanshan, I brought you some little trinkets." He greeted her, his tone carrying just the right amount of attentiveness.

As he spoke, he took out a silver-gray digital watch from the bag. The watchband was shiny, and the dial was inlaid with a circle of tiny diamonds.

Shen Shanshan didn't refuse. She reached out and took it, immediately tore open the wrapping paper, and tried it on her wrist. The case fit her skin perfectly, and the strap was just the right tightness. She glanced down at it, then gently flicked the second hand with her fingertips, producing a crisp ticking sound.

Zhang Ruoxuan and Li Yingxia exchanged a smile, their gazes both turning to Li Guozhui. He understood immediately, and promptly pulled out two more watches, handing them over: "Here, these are yours."

These two were "lobbyists" he had hired to persuade Shen Shanshan to break off the engagement. Giving gifts wasn't just a polite gesture; it was a matter of etiquette—only if the gifts were substantial would they be willing to say a few more words.

Shen Shanshan noticed that he had split the watch in his hand into two more, her brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, and her tone softened: "Where are the things I asked for?"

"Oh, they're all here." Li Guozhui quickly lifted the paper bag and took out a shiny black tape recorder. He also took out a small cloth bag containing a dozen or so cassette tapes neatly stacked inside.

It wasn't filled with pop songs—it was all English teaching tapes: "Follow Me," "New Concept English," and "VOA Slow Speed." The box lids even had serial numbers marked on them with ballpoint pens.

Shen Shanshan grabbed it and suddenly slammed her wrist down.

Back then, tape recorders were like lumps of iron, weighing at least twenty pounds. She only weighed it for a second before frowning and shoving the machine back into Li Guozhui's arms: "Take this to my dorm." After saying that, she turned and left, her ponytail swinging gently behind her head.

Zhang Ruoxuan and Li Yingxia were still fiddling with their watches when they saw this and quickly caught up.

The two lagged a few steps behind. Li Yingxia tugged at Zhang Ruoxuan's sleeve and whispered, "Hey, what exactly does Li Guozhui's family do? How much stuff have they sent to break off the engagement?"

"Digital watches, I heard from classmates who bought them that they sell for fifty yuan each at Xiushui Street, three together would be one hundred and fifty; and this tape recorder—the machine alone costs two hundred and eighty, and the tapes are extra... I reckon this trip alone will cost almost five hundred yuan!" She clicked her tongue, "Goodness, that's no small amount."

Zhang Ruoxuan didn't reply, but instead glanced down at her watch, its dial shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. She gently stroked the strap, then suddenly smiled: "If the engagement can't be called off...it doesn't seem like a complete loss?"

No sooner had she finished speaking than Shen Shanshan pushed open the iron gate of the dormitory building and disappeared in a flash.

The group quickly followed him inside.

Li Guozhui gently placed the tape recorder on the table, his fingertips pausing on the casing before he looked up at Shen Shanshan, his voice slightly low and a little reserved: "Shanshan, about our engagement..."

Shen Shanshan was looking down at the tape on the back of the machine when she heard him. She stopped what she was doing, didn't rush to reply, and just looked up at him.

"Let me think about it some more."

Her tone was calm, neither cold nor harsh, like spring water just melting a thin layer of ice—much more relaxed than when she had refused him so decisively the first time. After all, the item had just been put into the drawer, heavy with emotion; the sentiment had just settled in her heart, warm and gentle. That tape recorder was a brand new Hong Kong version, hard to find on the market, worth two or three months' salary. No matter how tough she was, she couldn't keep a straight face.

The first time he said "no," it was a firm and resolute statement; this time, saying "I want to" has already left a crack in the door.

Li Guozhui felt relieved, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up: "Okay, take your time thinking about it, I won't rush you." After saying that, he turned and walked towards the stairwell.

"Hey—wait a minute!" Shen Shanshan suddenly called out to him, picked up the thermos, poured half a cup of warm water, and pushed it to the edge of the table. "Have a drink of water before you go."

There wasn't much warmth in their words, but their actions were practiced. Pouring water, pushing the cup, and the soft sound of the cup bottom hitting the enamel table were just like when the two of them were interning together in the factory.

He took the cup, tilted his head back and drank it all. The water was slightly hot, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

-

When Li Guozhui pushed open the door, Ye Xiuli was sitting in a wicker chair, one hand supporting her pregnant belly, the other flipping through an old magazine. Hearing the noise, she immediately sat up straight, her skirt taut, a smile spreading across her face: "You're back? Shanshan agreed?"

She was already six months pregnant, her belly round and full, and she would give birth in a little over three months. If she hadn't gotten married by then, what would the neighbors think, even if they didn't say anything? How could she stand up straight then?

More importantly, after moving into the company's staff housing, she secretly inquired—Li Guozhui's family was no ordinary family. His father had held a position in the ministry in his early years, several of his uncles held powerful positions, and even his distant cousin was now a section chief in a branch bureau. Knowing this made her even more anxious: what if Shen Shanshan suddenly appeared and pulled back the engagement? There would be no way to back out of her unborn child.

Li Guozhui took off his coat and draped it over the back of the chair, rubbing his face: "Almost done. This time she didn't push me away directly, and even asked me to stay for water... her attitude is much softer."

Ye Xiuli closed the magazine, placed it on her lap, and sighed, "It'll be soon, it'll be soon. You said the same thing last month, and the month before last too. I think she doesn't want to agree at all; she'd rather we fall through." She paused, lowering her voice, "Why don't we have Uncle Guolei go and talk to her, and make things clear?"

Li Guolei lived on the fifth floor, and Cen Weiwei had already told her the whole story: he was a section chief in the branch office, and he had a lot of influence; his aunt was even a division-level cadre in the bureau. This kind of thing was difficult for them, but for Li Guolei, it was just a phone call or a visit.

"No." Li Guozhui shook his head, his tone soft but leaving no room for negotiation. "I owed her this first, and I can't use my status to pressure her."

He remembered the days when Shen Shanshan handed him meal tickets and shielded him from rumors. He also remembered that when he nodded in agreement with Ye Xiuli, Shen Shanshan stood at the factory gate, watching quietly without crying or making a fuss. He still dared not think about that look in her eyes.

Ye Xiuli lowered her eyes and didn't argue anymore. She just waited for him to finish showering and come into the house. Then she took the empty glass back to the kitchen, her fingertips tracing the rim of the glass, her eyes darkening.

On Li Jiacheng's side, several bundles of cassette tape boxes were drying in the small courtyard where he supplied goods. The cardboard boxes were open, and inside were posters of Hong Kong stars with flashy designs.

A young man in a corduroy jacket kicked the suitcase with his toe and said with a grin, "Jiacheng, your Uncle Guohang is really making a fortune quietly."

Someone nearby immediately chimed in, "Exactly! All of our little stalls combined aren't even as wide as his single canal."

Another young man, a candy stick in his mouth, scoffed: "Which shop on Xiushui Street doesn't have his price tags? He opens his mouth and the whole street adjusts its prices."

The young man named Weihao spat the candy stick into the corner, his voice neither loud nor soft: "Our shipments have been half as slow lately, isn't that a coincidence?"

After he finished speaking, there was a two-second silence in the courtyard.

Everyone tacitly understood—Beijing is only so big, and there are only so many opportunities. Li Guohang plunged headlong into the tape recorder and cassette tape business, and he even entered as a member of the Li family. How could these children from the courtyard dare to openly challenge him? They could only express their sourness through jokes.

Li Jiacheng scratched the back of his neck and smiled wryly, "Alright, alright, I understand. Okay, I'll go and invite Uncle Guohang over right now. Let's all sit down, have some tea, and talk things out."

They were all three generations who grew up in the compound, some related by marriage, others having shared a grandfather's generation. If things really got out of hand, it would be embarrassing for the elders. He couldn't force the issue, so he could only compromise.