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

Two months ago, he emptied his savings to buy an old courtyard house with three courtyards deep in a hutong. At that time, Li Wenguo had just mentioned to him, "If you find a bargain on a siheyuan now, ten years from now, it won't just be a thousand times or ten thousand times more valuable, it will be a somersault." He remembered what Li Wenguo said. Many of his classmates secretly asked around and paid for rooms in advance, just for a stable place to stay—his courtyard was usually used as a warehouse to store some loose goods and a few boxes of film.

On the way, Li Guoman slowed down, turned his head and asked, "Guan Yan, do you think these two things happening tonight are too coincidental?"

I was blocked at the movie theater entrance and then stopped at the school gate. The events happened one after the other, as if someone had timed it perfectly.

"Huh?" Guan Yan was taken aback, her steps faltering. "It shouldn't be... that bad, right?"

She was born into a vegetable farming family on the outskirts of the city. Her parents were busy growing and selling vegetables. From a young age, she only heard about daily necessities and trivial matters. She had never heard of, seen, or even thought about "sabotaging someone behind their back."

"Hmm, maybe I'm overthinking it." He responded softly, his tone softening slightly, but he wasn't completely at ease.

After all, in 1982, as soon as it got dark, shadowy figures began to appear under the streetlights. There were many idlers, and they were bold. Coupled with Guan Yan's clean and neat face, it wasn't surprising that she was being targeted. At that time, public security was at its lowest point. Once the spring thunder roared next year and the iron fist was wielded, the entire street would be thoroughly cleaned up.

The wooden door of the courtyard house creaked open.

Guan Yan stood motionless in front of the screen wall, looking up at the blue bricks, gray tiles, and hanging flower lintel. Her eyes lit up for a moment, and her heart felt like it had been gently bumped by something—if she could marry him after graduation and live a peaceful life in this courtyard, sweeping the floor, watering the flowers, and airing the quilts, that would probably be the most reassuring scene she could imagine.

That's right. Ever since her father suddenly fell seriously ill and was hospitalized, she shamelessly borrowed 100 yuan from Li Guoman. That money saved her life and also quietly planted a seed. Later, she often secretly watched his profile as he took notes in the back row of the classroom, watched him help his roommate repair his bicycle, watched him carry luggage up to the fifth floor for the girls in the class... But at that time, he and Liu Wu were getting along well, so she tucked all those thoughts into her drawer and locked them up tightly.

Until Liu Wu flew to the United States with her suitcase, she heard a "click" in her heart, as if a lock had been opened. But she was still the same Guan Yan: she dared to challenge street thugs, but when she met the person she liked, she didn't even dare to say "I like you" in a roundabout way.

For the next few days, after distributing the goods each night, the school gates remained tightly closed. The group of students simply took turns staying in the courtyard. But this meant the books were left to languish.

Hu Dawei, Wei Aimin, and Kuai Tieren discussed it: graduation exams were just around the corner, and they had earned enough extra money to buy a Forever brand bicycle and to renovate two rooms at home—but their secure jobs were unbreakable. They gritted their teeth, gave up, and focused on studying.

Guan Yan nodded in agreement.

Only Li Guoman refused to give up. He directly checked out of the lodging and moved into the courtyard.

Every Saturday and Sunday, Hu Da and the other two would still ride their bicycles over, carrying baskets of goods; Guan Yan, on the other hand, would carry a canvas bag filled with review outlines, mock exams, and a small jar of homemade pickled radish strips, and would sit opposite him at his desk, opening her notebook: "Today we'll be talking about function graphs, so let's do five problems first."

"Class monitor, there's really no need for a make-up exam—it's just a test, guessing half right is enough to pass." He said with a bitter face, his fingers unconsciously twirling his pencil. "You know where my mind is."

"No way." She snatched the pencil from his hand and slammed it onto the scratch paper. "Policies are harder to predict than the weather in June. They might approve a permit today and shut down tomorrow. But once you get a job in the government, you're set for life."

"Guoman, just have Guan Yan keep an eye on you while you study!" Hu Dawei patted him on the shoulder with a laugh. Wei Aimin grabbed the cargo basket, and Kuai Tieren was already straddling the seat. "Leave the loose cargo to us, you just focus on memorizing!"

The three exchanged a smile, pushed off the wheel, and in the blink of an eye, they turned into the alley, leaving only a string of crisp bell sounds.

Bystanders see things clearly; they know exactly what's going on in their minds.

However, those involved are still kept in the dark.

……

In Shenzhou.

Having tasted the benefits of running a factory, Lü Wei and Sun Qiang immediately used their connections to acquire two new plots of land.

One factory plans to specialize in Hong Kong-style jeans and bell-sleeved shirts; the other is preparing to test the waters of electronic watch assembly—the watch cases will be gold-plated, and the straps will have a touch of Western style.

They have big ambitions and are taking even faster steps.

For the two new factories, Li Guojiang will still hold a 40% stake.

Without him, land approvals wouldn't be granted, train cars wouldn't be moved, and they wouldn't even be able to get a counter at the Beijing Department Store. Sun Qiang and Lü Wei knew this perfectly well, and they were willing to do so.

That noon, Cui Jingjing rode her old Phoenix bicycle behind Li Guojiang's bicycle, her back stiff and her palms sweating all the way.

A bulging snakeskin bag was securely tied to the back rack of her car, neatly stacked with brand-new ten-yuan bills—a full million.

One million.

When she first heard that her husband had partnered with a colleague to open a factory, she thought it was just a small business, earning a few hundred thousand a year, and at most she would praise him for his "ability". But when Uncle Guozhui came to her door on time every month, unloaded the sack, and counted out 1.82 million, her hand trembled, and the mung bean soup in the enamel mug spilled all over her pants.

One million eight hundred and twenty thousand a month? Wouldn't that be twenty-two million a year?

She nearly fainted and fell under the old pomegranate tree in the yard.

Only then did she realize what kind of business her husband was in—it was even more booming than the largest state-owned cotton mill in the county!

Is he still a salted fish? Is he a piece of trash?

Not at all.

It is an uncarved jade, a gold nugget buried in the soil.

She herself, a section-level cadre, had a payslip that read "138.5 yuan," while his monthly income was a full thirteen thousand times that of hers.

This is something no ordinary person could do! He's clearly a genius!

Before long, the couple arrived at a courtyard house with four courtyards and four entrances.

This courtyard was acquired by Li Guojiang.

Specifically designed for hiding money, even the cellar was specially thickened and reinforced, buried deep in an underground secret chamber behind the screen wall.

There was just too much money—the burlap sacks were bulging and deformed, and the stacks were taller than a person. If someone were to find out, not only would he go to jail, but his whole family would probably be imprisoned.

As Cui Jingjing walked, her palms were constantly damp, her forehead was covered in fine sweat, and her steps were unsteady, as if she were walking on cotton.

"Guojiang, with so much cash here, is it really... foolproof?"

She watched as her husband steadied the last sack, his throat bobbed, and he lowered his voice to a whisper, the last syllable trembling slightly.

Li Guojiang straightened up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and said in a slightly perfunctory tone, "I already asked. My father said it himself—as long as we don't give ourselves away, we can wait another three to five years until the policies loosen and private individuals can contract factories. Then, whatever we earn will be clean money. If we don't evade taxes or avoid taxes, even if we make a hundred million a year, no one will come to investigate us."

Cui Jingjing kept her eyes down and didn't say a word. But her heart was churning: when she had little money, she was always worried about going hungry; when she had a lot of money, she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to keep it, spend it all, or that it would bring trouble... so she dared not relax at all.

"Sigh, do you think we can really spend all this money in our lifetime?"

Li Guojiang chuckled and casually wrapped the towel draped over his shoulder around his neck: "Can't spend it all? Of course not. But we still have Jiayan and the other kids, right? Leaving it to them is perfect, isn't it?"

"Yes..." Cui Jingjing's eyes finally showed a bit of reassurance. "This money will belong to Jiayan and the others sooner or later." She nodded, her shoulders relaxed a little, and her breathing became even.

"Let's go back."

The basement was low-ceilinged, with the ceiling just two meters off the ground, so you had to stoop to stand up. Li Guojiang walked behind and caught a glimpse of his wife's waist and hips as she bent over, the fabric of her clothes taut. His heart warmed, and he raised his hand to pat her on the shoulder.

"Ouch!" Cui Jingjing flinched, her ears burning, and glared at him. "You're doing it again!"

"Jingjing, go to the main house and rest for a while."

"No, no! There's still soup simmering on the stove. The kids will be hungry when they get home from school, so I have to rush back to cook." She said, taking two quick steps forward, but those two hands had already climbed onto her arms, warm and irresistible.

"Why bother cooking?" Li Guojiang laughed, grabbing her wrist. "Later, we'll take the kids to Guotao's Shuxiangxuan restaurant—order a table full of hearty dishes, let them eat until they're stuffed and then sleep!"

Once she stepped across the threshold of the main house, Cui Jingjing stopped struggling.

When it comes to this, she's never been coy. If her husband wants it, she gives it to him; not for pleasure, but because she's afraid he'll become unfaithful and wander off. Rich men have many admirers, and plenty of women offer themselves to them. She keeps the family together not through control, but through tenderness—using her body to hold onto his heart is more secure than locking the door.

About an hour later, the two walked out of the courtyard one after the other. Li Guojiang looked refreshed, with the top button of his shirt fastened; Cui Jingjing's cheeks were flushed, her temples were slightly disheveled, and her skirt swayed gently as she walked, like the surface of water just touched by a breeze.

Half an hour later, the family of five was already seated by the window at Shuxiangxuan.

Coincidentally, Li Guotao and Sha Zhu were clinking glasses at the next table. Several sheets of paper were spread out in front of them, covered with place names, budgets, and renovation sketches—they were planning to open a branch.

This Shuxiangxuan restaurant is located in Xidan, within the Xicheng District. Since taking on large orders such as wedding banquets, team building events, and annual meetings, business has been booming day by day. Monthly revenue is nearly 200,000 yuan, and annually, it easily reaches at least 2.4 million yuan.

Strike while the iron is hot, and naturally expand outwards.

"Guotao, have you figured it out yet? Where should we go next?" Shazhu picked up his wine glass, took a sip, and didn't even lift his eyelids.

"One in Dongcheng, one in Chaoyang, one in Fengtai—one in each." Li Guotao picked up a peanut and popped it into his mouth, speaking as if he were ordering food.

"Clang—!"

Sha Zhu's hand trembled, and the wine glass slipped from his grasp, smashing against the wooden table and splashing wine everywhere. He froze for three seconds before blinking, his voice cracking, "You...you're not kidding me?"

Just buying the shop, modifying the structure, hiring workers, stocking inventory, and decorating—it costs at least three million. Three shops at once? It'd easily cost at least ten million!

Despite his nickname "Silly Pillar," he's incredibly shrewd. He could figure this out on his fingers.