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

"Huh—"

A pungent smell suddenly wafted out, both pungent and choking, making one's nose sting.

"What does it smell like? It's so pungent!"

Li Guoman frowned and raised his hand to fan the air.

Engine oil.

Guan Yan twitched her nose and answered crisply.

Her father worked as a car mechanic his whole life, and his wrenches were covered in grease and grime under his fingernails, giving the house a constant smell. She grew up smelling it and could spot the odor instantly.

"Oh……"

Li Guoman nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

He had no idea that Sha Zhu's little restaurant had burned to a crisp. After graduation, he moved into the small courtyard he had bought with his own money and devoted himself to running his business. Today was the first time he had stepped into the gate of the courtyard house.

Naturally, I didn't think of anything else—what could a teenager do carrying a can of engine oil?

Bang Geng harbored a burning desire within him.

He heard that his stepfather, Sha Zhu, had opened a new restaurant called Shu Xiang Xuan, which would officially open around the New Year. He gritted his teeth and planned to use the same trick again—when most of the people in the courtyard had left for the New Year, he would sneak in, pour oil on it, and set it on fire!

He had just slipped into the yard when he unexpectedly bumped into Li Guoman. But then he thought, Li Guoman had moved out long ago. He didn't even know that Sha Zhu ran a restaurant in the yard, let alone know about the intricacies of the backyard. He didn't even raise his eyelids, simply stuffed the tin can under the pile of old wooden crates in the corner of the woodshed, clapped his hands, and turned to leave.

We're just waiting for the night we make our move.

Speaking of courage, Bang Geng was born wild. Last time he escaped by sheer luck, thinking he had gotten away with it perfectly and no one had noticed—little did he know, someone was simply covering for him.

If they reach out again this time, once the lid is lifted, no one can cover it up.

"Jia Cheng!"

"Uncle Guoman!"

Just as I reached the gate of the compound, I ran into Li Jiacheng, who was holding his wife's hand in one hand and carrying his two-year-old son in the other, coming out of the courtyard at number ninety-six. It looked like he had just come out of the old man's house.

"Uncle Guoman!"

"Hello, Uncle!"

Li Jiacheng's wife greeted him with a smile, while the baby in her arms, still half asleep, clutched her clothes and let out a long yawn.

"Let me introduce you—this is my girlfriend, Guan Yan. We'll go get our marriage certificate first thing tomorrow morning."

Li Guoman spoke crisply and directly settled the matter of their relationship.

"This is my eldest nephew, Li Jiacheng."

"Hello, Aunt Guan Yan!"

The Li family greeted each other warmly yet politely.

Hello!

Guan Yan smiled, but a knot secretly formed in her heart:

Li Jiacheng looked more robust than Guoman, at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight, yet he called him "uncle"? Then Guoman's older brother must be nearing fifty! But his father-in-law, Li Wenguo, looked to be only in his early forties, with jet-black hair, a straight back, and few wrinkles around his eyes—this generational hierarchy just didn't make sense…

In a small private room on the second floor of Shuxiangxuan, steam was rising from the spout of a copper kettle.

"Uncle Guoman, what kind of business are you busy with these days?"

Li Jiacheng picked up a slice of braised beef, chewed it, and asked a question.

The two met around 4 p.m. Li Jiacheng had heard from Li Guojiang that Uncle Guoman was coming to pick up goods today, so he took the initiative to invite him to have lunch together and chat about business.

"I bought clothes from Brother Guojiang wholesale and sold them door-to-door."

Li Guoman picked up the celadon cup, blew away the foam, and took a sip of hot tea.

It's only five o'clock, still a long time before the food is served, let's moisten our throats first.

Guan Yan was the one who made the tea. The child was so sleepy that he snuggled into his mother's shoulder. Li Jiacheng's wife gently patted his back with one hand and supported his little bottom with the other, humming a tuneless lullaby.

"Uncle Guojiang has added two new production lines at the end of the year, so if you want to increase your production volume, there's enough stock."

Li Jiacheng paused after speaking, then shook his head and changed his mind, "However... I don't recommend you add it."

"Oh? Could it be that the quality of the products from Brother Guojiang's factory is inconsistent?"

He raised an eyebrow, his tone probing.

Right now is the golden age for individual businesses; many people set up stalls on the streets and alleys and earn tens of thousands of yuan a year. Wholesale is a business with low barriers to entry and quick profits, so he originally thought there was something wrong with the goods.

"It's not about the quality." Li Jiacheng put down his chopsticks, his voice lowering. "It's that the market is already saturated—the entire capital, plus Hebei and Shanxi, has been completely dominated by Uncle Guoxian, Uncle Guohang, Uncle Guozhui, and their 'dealers.' Even if you follow suit, you'll only get scraps. You might as well learn from Brother Guojiang and build your own factory, controlling everything from fabric and cutting to labeling—only those in control have the confidence to set prices."

"The products we produce are directly handed over to Air China and their team for sales; the profits can double..."

Guan Yan sat beside Li Guoman, her chopsticks hovering in mid-air, not touching them, just listening quietly. Her heart, however, felt as if it had been struck by something, pounding wildly.

It turns out that Guoman has more than one brother, not just two or three... Each of them is firmly established in the business world, with a wide and stable business under their control.

The entire northern canal network has been brought under their control?

"Let's build the factory! Let's get down to business!"

Li Guoman clicked his tongue, speaking softly, but his knuckles tapped lightly on the edge of the table, as if he had settled the matter.

My mind raced: This is not only something that can be done, but something that absolutely must be done—there's a bright, shining path right in front of me, so easy to walk on, why would I bother going around in the mud?

Once the goods are ready, they can be delivered to Air China, and the money will arrive in your account immediately. It's more worry-free than collecting rent and quicker than picking up money!

At this moment, Li Jiacheng spoke up again: "Uncle Guoman, since you've made up your mind to go into business, stop overthinking. To be honest, I've already figured it out—I plan to set up a factory in Shanghai. If you trust me, let's lend a hand and do it together."

These words came out of his mouth as smoothly as spilling beans. He firmly believed in one principle: one can only rely on one's own family for one's own affairs.

When his grandfather, Li Wenguo, saw that he was considering going into business, he would always say, "Cheng'er, if there's a way, take your uncles with you."

Li Jiacheng always listened to his grandfather without question. When the opportunity arose, his first thought was to bring his uncle onto the boat.

"Okay! I'll go with you!"

Li Guoman finally felt relieved, his shoulders relaxed, and he straightened his posture a bit.

Then he asked, "But Jiacheng, what do you plan to do first?"

"Hehe, let's try the cassette tape first."

Li Jiacheng's eyes crinkled with laughter. "This stuff is incredibly popular right now, selling hundreds of thousands of boxes a month, with revenue approaching a million, and the gross profit more than doubling. Who wouldn't be envious?"

Li Guoman frowned slightly: "Those cassette tapes... don't they need song copyrights from Hong Kong? That might be difficult to obtain, right?"

"Don't worry." Li Jiacheng picked up his teacup and blew on it. "Uncle Guoan has long since taken control of those major record companies in Hong Kong. This year, when he returned to Beijing to pay New Year's respects to my grandfather, I negotiated with him in person—he granted me exclusive rights to all his songs at a special price, one cent per song."

A dime?

Li Guoman's eyelids twitched.

A thousand top-tier hit songs for only one hundred yuan. It's practically free, and that's no exaggeration.

Copyright fees have always been a major expense; by saving on this, costs are immediately reduced significantly, leaving only net profit.

Who is Uncle Guoan? No need to spell it out—that big brother from Hong Kong knows it like the back of his hand.

"Let's do it! We have to!"

Li Guoman's voice brightened, and he slammed his hand on the table, making the bowls and plates rattle softly.

He paused, then asked, puzzled, "But why Shanghai? Isn't Beijing closer and more familiar?"

Upon hearing this, Guan Yan's gaze quietly fell upon him.

She and Li Jiacheng were getting their marriage certificate tomorrow, and they were about to start living together. But what if Li Guoman really went to Shanghai? Would the young couple have to live apart right after moving in? Her heart tightened, and her fingertips unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes.

Li Jiacheng had anticipated this question and answered with a smile, "Have you forgotten? My dad is the mayor of Shanghai now. He's currently busy attracting investment. If we set up a factory there, we'll not only make money, but also help him out—it's family business, why let the profits go to outsiders?"

He paused, then added, "Don't you think so?"

These words sound casual, but they contain a profound meaning.

He knew perfectly well: in business, you have to look at the market, and you also have to watch the trends. Now the government is opening its doors to investment, with favorable policies, simplified procedures, and reduced taxes—it's like they're practically rolling out a red carpet at the factory gate.

Li Guoman nodded repeatedly and took two sips of tea.

Guan Yan, standing nearby, felt a slight tremor in her heart—the mayor of Shanghai, how weighty was that? A single stomp of his foot echoed throughout the entire city. Just one step up, and he was a high-ranking official in charge of a region.

The two were discussing the factory site selection, equipment procurement, and how to process the first batch of orders when the sky outside the window turned from gray to dark. Just after six o'clock, the curtain was lifted, and Sha Zhu, carrying a bottle of Moutai, followed by a waiter taking notes, walked in with a smile.

"Silly Uncle Zhu!"

Li Guoman and Li Jiacheng immediately stood up and greeted each other in unison.

Neighbors and distant relatives, so familiar that no small talk is needed.

Sha Zhu nodded cheerfully, placing the wine on the table: "It's a rare treat for you all to come, so I'll cook today and show you what it means to be 'possessed by the Kitchen God'!"

"Thanks!" they both said in unison.

Li Jiacheng casually took the wine and then asked, "By the way, Uncle, how's the investigation into the arson in Xidan going?"

Sha Zhu's smile faded. He shook his head and sighed, "Sigh, still no sign of it. It burned in the middle of the night, there's nobody on the street, not even a single witness. It's hopeless..."

Back then, there were no security cameras on street corners or guard posts at alley entrances. In the dark, a fire was like water poured into an inkwell—you couldn't find out what happened.

"Uncle, don't worry, the person can't escape." Li Jiacheng said confidently, "The net of justice is vast, but even if the mesh is sparse, it can't let the wicked slip through."

Sha Zhu gave a wry smile: "I hope so..."

That's what he said, but his eyes had already dimmed a bit—the longer the case dragged on, the less hope there was.

After ordering, Sha Zhu turned around and left with the waiter.

Li Guoman was completely bewildered. He waited until the curtain fell before turning to ask, "Jiacheng, what arson case? Who set it? What happened?"

Li Jiacheng picked up a piece of tofu, chewed it, and said, "The Shuxiangxuan restaurant in Xidan was burned down. The store is gone, the account books are gone, and tens of thousands of yuan worth of goods have turned to ashes. The loss is at least several hundred thousand yuan."

The details weren't elaborated on—this wasn't about sending Li Guoman to investigate the case; there was no need to dig up the bloody details.

"This...is too outrageous!"

Li Guoman said in a low voice, feeling a sudden chill on the back of his neck, as if a cold wind was brushing against his skin.

Murder and arson, which one of them wouldn't be a major case that shakes the heavens? Ruthless, truly ruthless, ruthless beyond measure.

Guan Yan lowered her eyes and didn't speak, but her fingers gripped the chopsticks tightly, her knuckles turning white.

A fire not only destroyed money, but also a means of livelihood. That person deserves to be torn to pieces!

"That's right, when I heard that, I was so scared that I dropped the sunflower seeds in my hand."

Li Jiacheng shrugged. "It's a pity that Uncle Guolei and his team have been investigating for almost a month and haven't even gotten a hair on the head. This guy is as slippery as an eel and hides even deeper than a mouse."

It's hard to guard against a thief within your own household, especially when someone is covering it up.