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

Meanwhile, Li Guoxuan and Cao Ying finally got their marriage certificate.

The wedding was held at the restaurant owned by Li Guotao.

The entire two-story Shuxiangxuan restaurant, spanning 2,000 square meters, was booked, and dozens of tables were set up for a lively banquet.

Downstairs at the stairwell, Li Jiacheng, holding a glass of baijiu, squeezed through the crowd and grinned as he approached the newlyweds' table: "Congratulations Uncle Guoxuan and Aunt Cao Ying! May you grow old together and have a baby soon!"

"you--?"

Cao Ying was wearing a bright red cheongsam, her hair was neatly styled in a bun, and her earrings swayed slightly. She was still standing in the same spot, but her eyes were wide open. She was holding a half-cup of warm Moutai in her hand, and her fingers loosened, almost causing it to knock over the edge of the table.

They weren't neighbors, but uncle and nephew.

This sentence was like a match, striking a spark that cleared away the fog that had been weighing on her heart for so long—

How did Li Guoxuan manage to jump two ranks in three years, going directly from a clerk to the position of deputy director of the Construction Bureau's office?

When Li Jiacheng mentioned Guoxuan to President He in front of her, his eyes shone brightly, and his words always carried a hint of probing and a hint of reassurance.

On another rainy day, she was delivering an umbrella to the bureau when she bumped into Li Jiacheng stuffing a stack of documents into Guoxuan's drawer, saying, "It's not appropriate for elders to interfere in the affairs of the younger generation, but I have to make sure you're safe and sound."

At the time, she thought it was just polite talk, but now she realizes the truth: they had kept the "uncle-nephew" relationship a closely guarded secret, afraid that she would turn around and leave if she found out.

Li Jiacheng leaned against the table, his fingertips lightly tapping the rim of his glass. Seeing her stunned, a faint smile played on his lips, a sly, yet sly, smile that emanated from him. He loved watching people's momentary embarrassment when caught off guard, especially when that embarrassment carried a touch of endearing foolishness.

To everyone's surprise, Cao Ying blinked and suddenly burst into laughter. Her laughter was undisguised, like spring water breaking through ice, clear and alluring. She raised her wine glass to him, her voice crisp and clear: "Then I must thank you, Jiacheng, my—nephew! From now on, that's what I'll call you."

Li Jiacheng's Adam's apple bobbed, and the smile on his face froze for half a second. At home, calling someone "nephew" is a sign of affection; but if he were outside, in a teahouse, at the bureau entrance, or even at the market, and someone called him that—where would he, a deputy section chief in his early thirties, dressed in a sharp suit, put his face?

He hurriedly waved his hands, his bitter smile creased with wrinkles: "Aunt Cao Ying, I admit defeat! Please have mercy on me this time!"

Cao Ying lifted her eyelids, glanced at him sideways, and raised the corner of her eye slightly, as if brushing a feather across his heart—you little brat, I can't handle you?

"Alright, alright, Jiacheng was just being roundabout because he didn't want you to overthink it," Li Guoxuan said with a smile, trying to smooth things over. He then picked up the wine bottle and filled Li Jiacheng's glass. "Come on, let's toast your Aunt Cao Ying as an apology."

Li Jiacheng had no choice but to raise his glass, tilt his head back, and drink it all in one gulp. The spiciness made him furrow his brow, but he was more obedient than if he had been scolded.

"By the way, Guoxuan—" Cao Ying picked up some stir-fried shrimp with her chopsticks and casually asked, "Why didn't Su Leilei come today? Didn't you invite her?"

Halfway through the banquet, the guests at the table had changed several times, and almost all of the colleagues from the Construction Bureau had arrived. Even Su Leilei, who had taken a leave of absence without pay two months ago and was rumored to have gone south to Guangzhou to seek her fortune, did not show up.

Li Guoxuan paused, the lotus root slice he had picked up slipping back onto the plate. His eyes were lowered, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I had Director Zhang inform her…she's probably tied up with something."

The voice was soft, with a faint ending, like the wind blowing through an empty bamboo tube.

The truth was, her belly was already showing, and she dared not wear tight dresses, much less attend banquets—afraid people would notice her unusual figure and ask her all sorts of questions. This whole affair was a carefully planned scheme by Su Leilei, with even her brother's approval. The Li family had connections and influence, a lifelong safety net. If she could climb into their fold, her hard times would be over.

"Let's go toast the old man." Li Guoxuan stood up and straightened his suit collar.

The elderly father, Li Wenguo, sat at the head of the main table. His silver hair was neatly combed. When he saw his son coming over, he only nodded slightly, but fine lines appeared at the corners of his eyes.

Cao Baoguo didn't come. Everyone knew the truth: he was both Li Guofu's brother-in-law and now Li Wenguo's in-law, creating a power struggle in terms of seniority. If they were to sit at the same table, it would be awkward to toast each other first, so it was better for him not to come, saving everyone in the courtyard from stifling laughter.

In another private room, steam was rising.

Xu Damao, with his legs crossed, had just finished peeling a glistening salted duck gizzard when he saw Shazhu wiping sweat as he came out of the kitchen. He immediately grinned and said, "Hey! Shazhu, I really didn't expect this—you honest, obsequious guy, you actually dared to go into business? Unbelievable!"

"Xu Damao!" Yi Zhonghai approached, leaning on his cane, his voice booming. "You run an electronics store, my apprentice runs a restaurant. We both earn our living with our skills. What? You're allowed to get rich, but others aren't allowed to cook?"

The old man had been retired for many years and had long since moved out of the compound, but Sha Zhu had been bringing him meals, fixing water pipes, and shoveling snow in winter for ten years without fail. He had never broken his promise to take care of him in his old age.

Sha Zhu wiped his hands, dusted off the grease on his apron, looked up and smiled: "Da Mao, what do you rely on to own ten appliance stores? It's your father-in-law's old connections in the industry and commerce sector. My little restaurant relies on mincing meat for thirty years and simmering broth for twenty years—if you're envious, I welcome you to invest, with profits distributed according to share, and clear accounting."

"Hey!" Xu Damao slammed his chopsticks down. "Your words are so sour they make my teeth ache! Neither of us is cleaner than the other—if the eldest brother doesn't criticize the second brother, then lift the lid and you'll see it's all ash underneath!"

"Does my lower value make you more precious?"

Before he could finish speaking, Liu Haizhong quickly grabbed the two men's arms: "Oh dear! Today is Guoxuan's special day! All three tables in this room are filled with familiar faces from our courtyard! If word gets out that Shazhu and Damao were causing trouble at the wedding banquet, it will be a disgrace to the entire courtyard!"

The two then fell silent and began to eat their rice in silence.

Liu Haizhong moved closer to Xu Damao and lowered his voice, "Damao, your electronics store... you're really not taking me with you? I can still inspect the goods with my eyes!"

Sha Zhu heard this, lowered his head and smiled, but didn't reply.

On the tree-lined paths of Peking University, the shadows of plane tree leaves are dappled.

Li Guoman, dressed in a faded blue cotton shirt, walked side by side with a girl in a light green floral dress, his shoulders and back straight. The girl was short, with two black braids, and a small dimple on her right cheek when she smiled.

She is Liu Wu, from a rural area in Hebei Province. She has six siblings and relied on scholarships to support herself through high school. Last year, she ranked first in the county in the college entrance examination.

"Guoman," she suddenly stopped, kicking a small pebble away with her toe. The sound wasn't loud, but it pierced the wind like a nail. "I've made up my mind—I'm going to study in America."

The moment the words left his mouth, the air went silent.

In recent years, this trend has swept across campuses: English corners are overflowing with people, the library's "American Life Guide" is booked up to three months in advance, and even the cafeteria ladies like to ask, "Have you registered for the TOEFL yet?"

Everyone harbors a dream: to cross the Pacific Ocean, live in a small villa with a lawn, drive a gleaming car, and earn countless dollars. All those years of hard study, weren't they all for the sake of escaping the muddy ground and reaching that gilded shore?

Li Guoman immediately gripped the strap of his schoolbag tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"Liu Wu, America isn't as bright as you think." He spoke quickly, each word heavy. "There, money is the yardstick, measuring people's worth. With money, you can overturn a criminal case; without money, even a cough sounds like theft. Shops in Chinatown have signs up during the day and take down their doors at night—afraid of being vandalized by Black people and investigated by White people. Even children have to take a three-block detour to avoid discrimination before going to school."

He paused, then lowered his voice: "My cousin runs a tailor shop in New York's Chinatown. He's been doing it for fifteen years and hasn't saved up a house, but he has a drawer full of rejection letters."

Liu Wu listened quietly without interrupting.

"Why do those who come back all say good things?" Li Guoman smiled bitterly. "Because face is more important than life. They risked their lives to get out, only to find that paradise is a glass dome, full of fog—lifting it is like slapping themselves in the face."

Liu Wu looked down at the tips of her cloth shoes, the uppers of which were covered in mud. She didn't say anything, but simply straightened her back even more.

After a long pause, she raised her eyes, her gaze clear, but her tone was like an iron chisel driven into stone: "Guoman, I know you're worried about me. But I'm even more afraid... afraid that in this lifetime, I'll never have the chance to turn my life around with my own hands."

He paused, then said, "How about this, Guoman—why don't you come to the US with me? With your grades, you're guaranteed a government-sponsored scholarship."

She genuinely liked Li Guoman. Being with him made her feel at ease and happy from the bottom of her heart. How wonderful it would be if the two of them went abroad together, settled down in a foreign land, studied together, rented a house together, ate together, and lived a lively and joyful life.

But Li Guoman shook his head. It wasn't that he hadn't been to the United States—his sister Alice had taken him there for a year. They lived in an apartment with a garden, ate Western-style steak, wore designer shirts, and even their textbooks were hardcover editions printed entirely in English.

No matter how glamorous you are, it can't hide the emptiness of tossing and turning at night, unable to sleep.

He thought of his father repairing bamboo chairs in the yard, the aroma of his mother steaming a basket of chive and egg buns before dawn, the grease on his brother's hands as he squatted at the alley entrance repairing bicycles, his sister humming off-key old songs while hanging clothes, and his brother's silly look as he leaned against the windowsill counting sparrows… Thinking too much made him listless. After finishing his first year, he packed his bags and came home.

That year, he took the subway through the old town where black people lived, and also strolled through the tailor shops and grocery stalls in the narrow alleys of Chinatown; he saw middle-aged men carrying suitcases wandering around the station, and also encountered a Fujian woman who had been kicked out by her landlord and was squatting on the street corner wiping away tears while holding a cardboard box.

He saw it clearly: America is not paved with gold bricks, nor is it a country where everyone wears a suit and tie. It has glamorous shop windows, but also leaky attics; some people turn their lives around with a green card, while many more spend half their lives washing dishes and working on assembly lines.

"Liu Wu, listen to me—I really have been there, there..."

Before she could finish speaking, she smiled and looked down at her nail polish, her gaze drifting towards the white doves flying past the window.

She wasn't unaware of it; she was simply tired of hearing it. From the moment they started dating, he'd ordered the meals, bought the movie tickets, and even the red dress she wore for her birthday was bought with three months' worth of saved-up food money. She understood the saying, "He who takes a man's gift is bound to do his bidding." So even though she had long considered the US as the starting point of her new life, she never uttered a single sarcastic remark to him.

"Sigh... never mind, you decide for yourself."

Seeing that she smiled with her lips pursed and the corners of her eyes curved, but did not respond, Li Guoman did not try to persuade her further.