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

"I'm not kidding you." Li Guojiang put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, and said, "I've calculated it. Three stores, around 10.2 million. I'll borrow from my brother first, and pay him back as soon as I earn it back."

"Your brother is willing to lend so much?" Sha Zhu paused, then suddenly remembered something. "Hey, speaking of which, what kind of business does your brother do? I've never heard you mention it before?"

The fact that he was borrowing tens of millions of yuan made Sha Zhu wonder: This brother-in-law, is he in real estate? Or steel trading? He must be someone with connections everywhere.

Li Guotao smiled and said, "My brother runs a chain of resort hotels, and he already has ten in Hong Kong. They offer a complete package of dining, entertainment, and accommodation. They have assets worth billions, and they were even listed on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange two years ago."

"Billions?!"

Sha Zhu choked on his drink, coughing until his face turned red. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask what "hanging a sign" meant, but swallowed the words back—it was too far-fetched, as far-fetched as a myth.

Since money isn't the hurdle, the only remaining problem in opening a shop is finding the right person to cook.

Fortunately, they were prepared. When Shuxiangxuan was just starting out, Shazhu poached several young apprentices from the steel mill's canteen. Ma Hua and Fatty took the lead, and the others followed along, helping out, practicing their knife skills, and preparing the soup base. Over the years, they've taught them what needed to be taught, practiced what needed to be practiced, and even broken a pot. Now, Ma Hua and Fatty can take on the main responsibility, and the others, after another three months of training, will also be able to take over at the stove.

On the second floor, in a small private room.

Bang Geng had just put down his chopsticks and got up to go downstairs.

"Sir, your order hasn't been settled yet," the female cashier reminded him from behind the counter.

Bang Geng paused, glanced sideways, and snorted, "Open your dog eyes and see clearly—who am I? Bang Geng! Sha Zhu is my uncle!"

"I have to pay to eat here?"

A few teenagers in floral shirts, toothpicks in their mouths, immediately started commotion: "Did you hear that? This is our young master! The owner is in our shop, and you dare to ask for money?"

"Are you out of your mind? Believe me or not, you'll be packing your bags and kicking the bucket tomorrow. One word from Uncle Shazhu and you won't even get your pay slip!"

The group burst into laughter, their spittle almost spraying onto the glass counter.

The female cashier didn't move or lower her head; she simply stood ramrod straight, her voice low but clear:

"The owner, Chef He, personally instructed us—from today onwards, you can no longer keep your bill on credit. Not paying is considered dining and dashing. I'll call the police station right now to handle this."

"What? That idiot Zhu really said that?"

Bang Geng was stunned, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. Although Sha Zhu wasn't exactly affectionate towards him, his mother, Lin Meili, had married into the family and given birth to a younger brother; surely their relationship should be quite deep? Who would have thought that the other party would turn on him faster than flipping through a book, cutting ties so easily?

He didn't realize that he often led a few laid-back friends to gorge themselves at Shuxiangxuan Restaurant—ordering only hearty dishes: Dongshan goat, freshly killed live fish, and black-boned chicken stewed with pickled cabbage. The bills piled up thicker than the menu. Last month alone, the debt was almost ten thousand yuan.

It was all thanks to Sha Zhu using his restaurant's profit share to bail him out, smoothing things over one by one. But even people aren't made of iron; after enduring and enduring, he finally reached his breaking point. This morning, Sha Zhu told the cashier: "From now on, if Bang Geng comes to eat here and doesn't pay, don't serve him anything; if he doesn't pay, call 110 directly."

After being taken advantage of for so long, Sha Zhu doesn't want to be a sucker anymore.

As they were talking, Sha Zhu emerged from the kitchen, his apron still on, his hands still smelling of ginger and scallion oil. His gaze swept over the stiff sticks in front of the counter, and his voice, though not loud, was like a hammer striking blue bricks: "Of course it's true. From today onwards, Shu Xiang Xuan will not accept credit or debts, and there will be no free food or drink. No bills—I'll personally call someone to come and take care of it."

"You, you... don't forget, I'm your son!"

Bang Geng's throat tightened, and his heart pounded. More than five hundred yuan? He only earned forty-seven yuan and fifty cents a month; he couldn't afford it! In desperation, he could only bring up the word "son" to put on a brave face.

"Son?" Sha Zhu scoffed, not even lifting his eyelids. "Have you ever called me 'Dad'?"

"I don't have a son like you."

"You have to pay if you eat. If you don't pay—we'll call the police."

This time, he didn't reach for his wallet, nor did he sigh or shake his head, nor did he turn around to seek peace and quiet in the kitchen. He just stood there, like a nail, fixed between the counter and the stick.

Bang Geng's face flushed and then cooled. Three tables of guests in the hall were shoveling rice into their bowls, several waiters were standing in the aisle with trays, and even Old Zhang, who was wiping the tables, straightened up and glanced in their direction. Feeling embarrassed, he subtly slipped his hand behind his back and winked at his companions.

"Ouch—" The one on the left immediately covered his mouth, "Oh no! My mom hung the sheets out to dry this morning and they're still blowing on the balcony. They've probably been blown away by the wind!" He then turned and ran away.

"I have to go back too! There are sweet potatoes steaming in the pot, and the fire is still on!" another person said as they backed away, tripping and almost hitting the freezer.

"Brother Banggeng, I'm so sorry!" The third one turned and ran, shouting as he ran, "I have soup simmering on the stove, and I just smelled it burning—help!"

In the blink of an eye, everyone had vanished, leaving only the wind chimes at the door tinkling and swaying twice.

Banggeng stood there, his face a mixture of pale and green, like an old wooden board that had been soaked in water and then cracked in the sun.

"Look at the kind of people you associate with!" Sha Zhu took a half step forward, his voice lowering. "You treat them to a meal, and they'll chat and brag with you; but the moment you mention it's time to pay the bill, they're gone faster than mice scurrying into a hole."

"Hey, why don't you grow up?"

"Can't even tell who's sincere and who's just joining in the fun?"

Bang Geng's lips moved, as if he wanted to retort, but seeing that Sha Zhu's hand in his pocket was already pressing on his phone, he swallowed his words.

But what he was really thinking was: If there's no profit in it, who'll pay attention to you? Who'll call you brother?

—Once the thought popped into my head, I didn't suppress it any longer.

"How much is this meal?" Sha Zhu turned to ask the cashier, Xiao Tan.

"Five hundred and eighty."

"Five hundred and eighty?" He suddenly laughed, a dry laugh like sandpaper grinding against sheet metal. "Hey, do your math. How much is your monthly salary? Forty-seven yuan and fifty cents, right? One meal costs you twelve months' wages—you really think you're the young master of Shuxiangxuan?"

"Young Master? If he were that lucky, you would have bankrupted him long ago!"

He really couldn't understand it—where did this greenhorn who couldn't even fix a bicycle chain get the audacity to order a 580-yuan banquet? Where did he get the confidence to keep the word "inheritance" on his lips?

"For your mother's sake, I'll cover for you this time."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change: three twenty-yuan notes, one ten-yuan note, several five-yuan notes, and one-yuan notes. He counted them and found seventy-three.

"Pay me seventy now, and put the rest in my account. I'll settle the difference tomorrow morning." He slammed the money on the counter, turned to stare at the stick, raised his chin, and said, "Aren't you going to get lost?"

Bang Geng's Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn't utter a sound. He just glared at Sha Zhu quickly before turning and leaving.

At the top of the stairs, Li Guotao stood motionless. Only after Banggeng's figure disappeared through the glass door did he slowly stroll down, patting Shazhu on the shoulder: "Sigh, that kid used to be so honest, helping to wipe tables, sweep floors, and serve tea and water. How come he's grown up to be so crooked?"

Sha Zhu didn't reply, but just lowered his head to unbutton his apron.

"Every family has its own problems." Li Guotao sighed, then patted him on the shoulder. "Brother-in-law, don't take it too seriously. I'm going back now."

After he left, Sha Zhu, as usual, finished inspecting the kitchen, closed the back door, locked the shutter, and slowly rode home on his jingling old bicycle.

At exactly 10 o'clock, the lights in the room came on as soon as the key was inserted into the lock.

Lin Meili sat at the dining table, her face as stiff as an unkneaded dough.

As soon as Sha Zhu entered the door, before he had even changed his shoes, he understood—Bang Geng must have come back crying and complaining.

He leaned his bicycle against the wall, wiped the sweat from his brow, and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "I left home at six, sweeping the streets, unloading goods, preparing materials, overseeing the stoves, and settling accounts. I'm only just now getting a chance to catch my breath. And you're looking at me with that long face, who are you trying to fool?"

Lin Meili's expression relaxed. She knew who the pillar of this family was. Silly Pillar didn't smoke, gamble, or gossip; he wouldn't even buy himself a new shirt, yet he had kept Shuxiangxuan afloat and made life easier, even benefiting her family.

No matter how capable she is, she shouldn't trample on her son like that.

"Bang Geng said he treated his friends to dinner at the restaurant, and you publicly berated him in front of so many people, calling him a 'freeloader'?" Her voice turned cold. "He's your son; this restaurant will be his someday. What's wrong with him having a meal? You stopped him because you're afraid he'll eat you out of house and home?"

Sha Zhu was stunned.

Young master?

inherit?

Jia Banggeng?

He stared at Lin Meili, as if seeing the face that had been with him for five years for the first time.

The air suddenly became still.

Then--

He smiled.

It wasn't a sneer, nor a bitter smile; it was the kind of smile where the teeth were clenched, the corners of the eyes twitched, and the shoulders trembled slightly.

Angry.

He was really angry.

It wasn't Jia Banggeng's complaints to Lin Meili that angered Shazhu; rather, it was because Lin Meili didn't care about her youngest son, He Xiao, at all—her heart and eyes were entirely focused on her eldest son, and she wouldn't spare even a glance for He Xiao. This wasn't favoritism; it was like weighing people on a scale, one side piled high with stones while the other side had an empty tray.

Is the restaurant going to be left to Banggeng? Doesn't that mean it will belong to the Jia family?

But that place was originally prepared for He Xiao!

"Is there only one Jia Banggeng in your heart?"

Sha Zhu stood at the kitchen doorway, his gaze as cold as well water, fixed directly on Lin Meili's face. She subconsciously shrank her shoulders, wringing the dishcloth in her hand even tighter.

"What about He Xiao? Isn't he your biological son?"

As soon as he finished speaking, his voice suddenly rose, making the chopsticks hanging on the windowsill jump slightly.

"I used to think that you cared for me more and were afraid of making me feel wronged, so you diverted some of your attention to Banggeng—I understood, and I didn't stop you. But now I see clearly that you never considered He Xiao as one of your own. Do you dislike him because he's my child? Or do you think that only Jia Banggeng is a true member of the Jia family?"

These words were like a dull knife, drawing no blood, yet cutting into the flesh until it numbed. Every word struck at her Achilles' heel: favoritism, scheming, and hypocrisy.

Lin Meili's lips moved, her voice dry: "No...they are all your sons. He Xiao will also have a share in the restaurant from now on."

She suddenly realized she had let something slip and hurriedly tried to salvage the situation, but the words were already spilled and couldn't be taken back.