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

"Ugh—!!!"

The horn sounded a long blast, and the train stopped.

This is the northernmost small town in the country. The December wind scrapes against your face like tiny knives. The roads are frozen and cracked, with ice crystals densely covering the curbs; the poplar trees along the street are covered with frost, and when the wind blows, a clump of it falls with a "plop" onto the brim of your hat, making you shiver from the cold.

Li Guoman's nose was bright red, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face, his breath forming white puffs like a chain smoker's smoke rings. His heart pounded: If I'd known it would be this cold, I would never have agreed!

"Have you arrived yet?"

My tongue is stiff, and I stumble over my words.

He carried a net bag in one hand and dragged a suitcase in the other, trudging through the snow, his shoes covered in a thick layer of ice. Luckily, Guan Yan had insisted on giving him a pair of thick fleece boots before he got off the bus; otherwise, he probably wouldn't even be able to stand up.

He just couldn't understand it: how did people survive in this ice cave?

"Almost there!"

Guan Yan answered quickly, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, but her eyes shone brightly, and she breathed out white air, her steps never slowing down.

Li Guoman grimaced from the cold, but couldn't help but admire her—how could this girl be so beautiful and radiant even in the freezing cold?

"You...you keep saying we're almost there...how much further is it?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Just around that hill, you'll find it!" She pointed. "See that little courtyard?"

The courtyard house has low walls made of blue bricks, and the paint on the wooden doors is peeling off. The gate is no wider than a single person. There are two rooms, one in the main hall and one in the inner room. They are narrow and long, like an old courtyard that has just emerged from any dark alley deep in the hutongs of Beijing.

Yes, it's exactly the same as Cui Jingjing's little courtyard—simple, but clean.

The hope was finally realized; this grueling journey was about to come to an end. Li Guoman's pace quickened unconsciously, his shoes making a soft, solid "crunch" sound as they stepped on the frozen dirt road.

Every house in this area has central heating—without it, even three quilts wouldn't be enough to keep out the bone-chilling cold at night.

Finally, the courtyard gate was pushed open.

As soon as he stepped across the threshold, Guan Yan came to greet him, gently cupping his right hand in hers, leaning slightly against him, her shoulder against his arm, her steps following his. The two moved inside side by side, like a couple who had been together for many years, so familiar that they didn't need to greet each other or explain.

Li Guoman was stunned for a moment—he felt no resistance at all, but rather a sense of peace and security, as if his feet had returned to flat ground.

Could it be that he had truly grown accustomed to her daily care? Hot soup was brought to his side, his cotton clothes were folded neatly, and even when his socks had a hole, she mended them the next day and placed them by his pillow... Over time, even her presence had become as natural as breathing.

Mr. and Mrs. Guan were already waiting at the entrance of the main room. Upon seeing him enter, their faces immediately broke into deep, warm smiles. Mrs. Guan turned to fetch the thermos, while Mr. Guan deftly cleaned the enamel mug, the tea leaves unfurling and floating in the boiling water. When the wash water was brought over, Li Guoman scooped up a handful and splashed it on his face. The warm steam slowly brought feeling back to his numb cheeks. He let out a long sigh, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

Having agreed to pretend to be the other man, he truly treated himself as a son-in-law: whenever he saw Mr. and Mrs. Guan, he would first call them "Dad" and "Mom," offer them cigarettes, accept their tea, and move their stools with swift movements and sincere eyes, without the slightest hint of perfunctoriness.

In the afternoon, relatives arrived one after another, a whole host of aunts and uncles, carrying eggs and noodles, instantly making the house lively. Guan Yan introduced them one by one, and he nodded, smiled, and responded, calling them "Second Aunt" when appropriate and "Uncle" when appropriate. Cigarette boxes were opened and closed repeatedly, several packs of cigarettes were distributed, and sunflower seed shells piled up like a small mountain on the table.

Guan Bin, Guan Yan's younger brother, was slow to respond, his eyes constantly scanning Li Guoman's face. He was three years older than Li Guoman, with a buzz cut, thick arms, and a loud voice, but as soon as his sister looked up, his words got stuck in his throat, and he just kept his head down cracking sunflower seeds, chewing them with extra force.

As dinner was served, Guan Bin raised his glass most frequently: "Come on! Men should drink to their heart's content!"

"Drink it all in one gulp, no slurring!"

"Let me offer another toast, this is on behalf of my sister!"

Li Guo's stomach was completely empty; he hadn't even had a piece of pickled vegetable, yet he had already downed half a jin of baijiu (Chinese liquor). His stomach was churning and burning, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He cursed inwardly, but swallowed the curse back—they were genuinely offering a toast, and he couldn't very well turn his back on them.

Just as he was feeling restless, Guan Yan brought out a plate of stir-fried pork from the small kitchen with asbestos tiles at the west end of the courtyard. The pork was glistening with oil, and green and red peppers wrapped around slices of dark brown meat, the aroma filling the air. She paused, glancing briefly at Li Guoman, who immediately understood.

"Oh, you're drinking already?" She walked closer with a smile, and slapped Guan Bin on the head. "Your brother-in-law just got off the bus and is starving. Let's have a contest—whoever finishes this plate of meat first has to do the dishes tonight."

Guan Bin paused, his wine glass still in his hand, and looked up at his sister. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, a smile playing on her lips, but her eyes were clear and unyielding. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he silently put down his glass, lowering his head to eat his rice, without uttering another word about wine.

He wasn't afraid of his sister's fierceness; he genuinely respected her. A Peking University graduate, the youngest section chief in his workplace, he sent most of his monthly salary home. They renovated their brick house into a tiled one, replaced the coal stove with an electric heater, and even his wife's dowry was secretly provided by his sister. No one in the family dared to disregard her words.

Li Guoman watched and nodded silently to himself—so there really is such a person in the world who can combine temper, ability, and tenderness all in one person.

But getting some sleep at night has become a real problem.

The courtyard was narrow, with three rooms: the east room belonged to Guan's parents, and the west room was crammed with Guan Bin, his wife, and their two-year-old son; originally there was only one main room, but later it was partitioned with wooden boards to barely create two small rooms of less than ten square meters each, where you had to turn around sideways.

Guan Yan always sleeps in the living room when she comes back.

"It's alright, just lay out a thicker layer. The heating is strong enough; it'll be warmer than a quilt." As she spoke, she took out a mattress, a blanket, and an old military-style cotton quilt from the cabinet and spread them out on the cement floor to make a soft "bed." Li Guoman squatted down to help, his fingertips touching her wrist. It was warm, carrying the smell of a stove fire and a faint scent of soap.

They lay down side by side on a small mat, shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. He could smell the scent of her hair, a mixture of shampoo and sun-dried fragrance; he could also feel the rhythm of her breathing, light and steady, as quiet as snowflakes falling outside.

He wasn't inexperienced with women, but lying beside her now, listening to her breathing, watching the small shadow cast by her eyelashes in the lamplight, his heart pounded like a rabbit in his chest. His past with Liu Wu suddenly seemed distant and blurry, as if seen through frosted glass.

"If you're cold, just hold me while you sleep." Her voice was soft, as if she were just saying it casually. She glanced at him sideways, then quickly turned back, as if she was just worried that he would get cold.

Without thinking much, Li Guoman reached out and gently wrapped his arm around her waist. She didn't flinch or move; she simply buried her face in his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin.

He froze, afraid to move, his palm pressed against the thin sweater on her back, feeling her body temperature and the curve of her spine. As time passed, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and in a daze, he actually fell asleep.

After that night, he realized: Guan Yan was indeed different towards him.

The second night, before she could speak, he rolled over and pulled her into his arms. She softly hummed in response, her body softening as she wrapped herself around his arm like a warm, moist vine. He tentatively placed his hand on her waist, and she didn't stop him, her fingertips subtly teasing his wrist.

On the third night, he couldn't resist any longer and lowered his head to kiss her earlobe, then slowly moved down her neck—

"Guan Yan," he suddenly said as the two walked side by side down the main street of town after breakfast the next day, "let's get your family a bigger house."

She bent down and kicked a small pebble on the roadside, her voice very soft: "If you really feel indebted to me, there's no need. This is something I did willingly."

Li Guoman stopped and stared at her reddened earlobes, gritting his teeth: "This isn't compensation—it's the bride price."

When he woke up last night, he saw a faint red stain on the sheets, like plum blossoms just beginning to bloom on branches in early spring; this morning, while eating breakfast, he remembered the noodles she cooked last night, with a soft-boiled egg and a few scallions floating on the hot soup; he remembered how she ironed his shirt for two extra minutes on the cuffs; he remembered how she turned each piece inside out on the line after washing the clothes, afraid that the sun would fade them...

The more I think about it, the clearer it becomes: apart from not having a marriage certificate, they've been a family for a long time—eating together, living together, and busying themselves with life together, even their bickering is tinged with familiar intimacy.

Having already held hands, warmed the bed, and opened his heart to each other, he didn't want to drag it out.

Guan Yan suddenly stopped, tilted her head back, her eyes wide open, and quickly covered her mouth with one hand, her knuckles turning white, her shoulders trembling slightly.

"Guan Yan, marry me."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he was stunned—how did he say it so smoothly?

"I'll marry him!!!"

She blurted it out, tears welling up instantly. Laughing and crying at the same time, she suddenly lunged at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, her forehead pressed against his chin, her voice choked and trembling: "I've waited three years to say these words..."

It turns out, she had already etched him into the years: when he held hands with Liu Wu, she secretly watched from afar; after Liu Wu left, he squatted in the snow smoking, and she clutched her thick coat, hiding in a corner until he got up and left, then stuffed the coat into a neighbor's hand, asking someone to pass it on; after he became single again, she dared not show even a hint of her feelings, only hiding her care in the daily meals, the clothes for all four seasons, and the dense lines of small notes in the corners of the account book...

All the forbearance, all the silence, all the quiet waiting, all surged forth at this moment.

Li Guoman held her, his heart softening and warming, and he felt a little dazed—he had thought it was just a play, but as he acted, he had truly fallen into it.

To put his mind at ease and to ensure she could speak with confidence in the future, he acted quickly: in less than ten days, he bought a three-story house in the east of town.

The first floor is 80 square meters, bright and sturdy; the second and third floors are kept clean and tidy, so the whole family can live comfortably; the first floor faces the street, with white walls and roller shutters, it can be used as a small shop to sell hardware or daily necessities.

In small towns, housing prices are really reasonable, only around 200 yuan per square meter. A three-story house, including renovations and the transfer of ownership, cost a total of over 4,800 yuan, which isn't even enough to buy a toilet in Beijing.

But this building was the first brick he laid for Guan Yan.

When you're out and about, how can you manage without some cash on hand?

Li Guoman set off with 10,000 yuan in his pocket, hoping for peace of mind, but little did he know it would come in very handy.