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

The net of heaven is vast and inescapable. That's true. But if someone secretly blocks a few holes in the net, even the largest net can't hold back the wind.

No one expected that Banggeng was squatting on the windowsill of the third floor of the tenement building, holding a half-smoked cigarette in his hand, staring at the lit window downstairs, before stubbing out the cigarette.

He'll make his move tonight.

Li Guoman and his nephew Li Jiacheng ate and chatted for two hours straight, talking about everything from factory construction to distribution, from magnetic tapes to subsequent production expansion.

Guan Yan breathed a quiet sigh of relief—Li Jiacheng had made it clear that setting up a factory in Shanghai only required sending two experienced managers to oversee it; he and Li Guoman didn't need to be stationed there permanently, let alone abandon their families.

Looking at the steaming dishes on the table, the Moutai bottle reflecting the lamplight, and Li Jiacheng's calm and composed demeanor as he chatted and laughed, she suddenly realized something:

The Li family's talent lies not in doing things personally, but in strategizing; not in running around, but in having someone rush to carry out their orders as soon as they are given a word.

Did she marry into a powerful family?

maybe.

But what she loved was Li Guoman's clumsy earnestness as he bent down to peel shrimp for her, the light in his eyes when he heard that cassette tapes could make a lot of money, and his decisive "Okay!" when he agreed to cooperate.

The thought flashed through my mind and then vanished.

She picked up a piece of braised pork knuckle and gently placed it in Li Guoman's bowl.

Especially since the two were going to the Civil Affairs Bureau to get their marriage certificate the next day and officially become husband and wife, Guan Yan became even more gentle and considerate towards Li Guoman, even speaking in a soft and gentle tone, as if afraid of disturbing something. She knew in her heart that Li Guoman always liked to be close to her, and last night he had endured the bumpy ride on the green train all night and had refrained from touching her, so she took the initiative to lean in and let him do whatever he wanted until late at night.

But by two or three in the morning, the courtyard was already completely silent, even the dogs were curled up in their kennels snoring—only Banggeng lay on the kang with his eyes open, not moving at all.

He didn't disturb his younger brother, He Xiao, who slept in the same room. Before leaving, he glanced at He Xiao sideways: his eyes were dark and brooding, like cold water seeping from the bottom of a well; his lips were tightly pursed, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he managed to squeeze out a single sentence through clenched teeth: "If I can't have it, you can forget about it!"

He tiptoed into his stepfather Sha Zhu's room. The door was ajar, the lights were off, and only a sliver of snowlight shone through the window, illuminating half a shoulder peeking out from under the covers—smooth, muscular, right next to his mother Lin Meili's nape. Bang Geng's fingers trembled; before he could even touch the key, a hard lump pressed against his chest, burning his ears: Sha Zhu! You lowlife! I curse you to be childless tonight!

He was always unreasonable and narrow-minded, but he genuinely respected Lin Meili. When she was about to marry Sha Zhu, he squatted at the courtyard gate and cried all day until his voice was hoarse, refusing to call her "Dad." Now, seeing his mother sleeping with her head on Sha Zhu's arm, the flame in his heart leaped three feet high, burning brighter than the firewood in the stove of Shu Xiang Xuan—it had to burn! It had to burn down! Before it even opened for more than a few days, he'd burn it all to the ground!

With the key in hand, he crouched down and retreated, heading straight for the pile of miscellaneous items in the corner of the yard. The can of gasoline had long been placed under the broken bamboo basket; the can was ice-cold, and a thin layer of frost covered its surface. He picked it up and walked away, his steps so quick they felt like he was walking on cotton, so light they were barely audible.

On the second day of the Lunar New Year, occasional police officers patrolled the streets on their three-wheeled motorcycles, the engine chugging over the cobblestones. Banggeng had just turned into the alley when he heard the noise in the distance. A cold sweat instantly soaked his back, and he immediately ducked into the shadows against the wall, crouching and panting heavily. Should he wait? Wait until after the New Year?

The thought had barely formed when the image of Sha Zhu's hand resting on his mother's waist flashed before his eyes, along with a stray lock of hair falling from Lin Meili's temple... He gripped the oil drum handle tightly, his nails digging into his palms, the pain jolting him awake—no more waiting! Burn it now!

As soon as the patrol car passed, he took off running, his shoes scraping against the frozen ground with a soft "crunching" sound.

Before long, he was standing in front of Shuxiangxuan in Chaoyang District. He had scouted the door lock before, so he knew the place well. He aimed the oil can spout at the gap in the threshold, flicked his wrist, and the black liquid "whooshed" in, flowing along the brick seams all the way to the stove, wine cabinet, and screen base... His movements were as swift as if he had done it a hundred and eighty times.

Finally, he took two steps back and tugged at the corners of his mouth—the smile didn't reach his eyes, only forming a stiff arc on his face. The lighter snapped open, the blue flame leaping out, and he loosened his grip, the metal casing spinning as it fell into the oil pool.

"boom--!!!"

Flames leaped up, reaching over a meter high, licking the lintel and engulfing the reception area, private rooms, and kitchen stove in an instant. Wooden beams crackled and shattered, glass splintered into white mist, and thick smoke carrying the smell of burning shot into the night sky.

"Idiot Zhu—!" he growled through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse, "You've taken advantage of my mother, this shop, and He Xiao's good life... burn them all to ashes!"

Before the words were even finished, the person had already stepped over the courtyard wall, their shadow stretched long and thin by the firelight, disappearing in a flash.

This time, he was really lucky—the patrolman had just turned the corner when he had already climbed over his own yard wall, quietly stuffed the key back under Sha Zhu's pillow, crawled into bed, and pretended to be asleep.

The warmth in his chest hadn't dissipated yet; it was numb and swollen, like he'd drunk too much strong liquor. He turned over, buried his face in the pillow, and a faint smile crept onto his lips again.

Once a person steps onto a dark road, if they try to turn back, their feet will be covered in mud.

If things continue to go smoothly like this, one day he might be holding something other than a lighter in his hand.

"Whoa—!!!"

As flames shot skyward, a local policeman patrolling across the street was munching on a frozen pear. Looking up, he saw the pear fall to the ground with a "thud." The two men grabbed megaphones and dashed off, shouting, "Fire! Shu Xiang Xuan is on fire!"

The fire truck arrived in five minutes. Although the fire was fierce, it was extinguished in time. The second-floor guest rooms and attic were spared, but the first-floor lobby, operating room, and old-fashioned exhaust duct collapsed, and black ash was scattered all over the street.

Before dawn, two patrolmen were already standing at the entrance of the courtyard house and knocked on the door of Sha Zhu's house.

The courtyard instantly erupted into chaos. Uncle Yi Zhonghai, wearing an old cotton-padded coat, Uncle Liu Haizhong, wearing cotton slippers, Uncle Yan Bugui, with his sleeves rolled up, and Li Guoxian, Xu Damao, Shazhu's family... a dozen or so people all gathered around, their coats haphazardly wrapped around their bodies, their hair sticking up in a mess, their breath swirling in the cold air.

Xu Damao has made money over the years and should have moved out, but because of Li Wenguo and Li Guoxian's matter, he stubbornly stayed in the yard and didn't move.

"Comrade, it's me, Sha Zhu. What happened?" His voice was tight, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his right hand instinctively pressed against his left chest, where his heart was pounding wildly.

The crowd was so quiet that you could hear the rustling of the north wind blowing through the withered locust branches.

Only the three old men, Yan Bugui, Lin Meili, and Xiao Dang, glanced at Bang Geng's face with lightning speed—their eyes were like three thin needles, sending a chill down Bang Geng's spine.

"Is Shuxiangxuan in Chaoyang District your business?" The patrol officer stared at him, his tone heavy as if weighed down by a stone. "Someone set it on fire."

"What?!"

"Arson again?!"

Sha Zhu swayed, his face drained of color, his eyes rolled back, and he fell straight backward like a chopped-down tree stump.

"Idiot Zhu—!!!"

"Quick, catch her!"

Shouts erupted, and figures darted about. Lin Meili was the first to rush forward, ignoring the pain as her knees slammed into the frozen ground, and she grabbed Shazhu by the neck, tears streaming down her face. But the next second, she suddenly stopped, abruptly turning her head to look at Banggeng—her eyes were urgent and fierce, as if she wanted to rip the very bones out of him!

Her lips trembled, but she couldn't utter a single word. Instead, she tilted her face back, facing the dark sky, and let out a long howl.

"ah--!!!"

The cries were heart-wrenching, bloodshot, and sent chills down one's spine. Xiao Dang and He Xiao burst into tears, one grabbing their mother's arm and the other gripping Sha Zhu's wrist tightly.

Only Banggeng stood still, his face as pale as paper, his body trembling slightly, looking completely terrified—but no one saw that his fingernails had already dug into his palms, and beads of blood dripped down between his fingers, spreading a few dark red spots on the blue brick floor.

"What are you standing there for? Take him to the hospital!" An elderly man named Yi Zhonghai, leaning on his cane, his white hair flying wildly in the cold wind, shouted with a strong voice.

Li Guoxian and Xu Damao lifted Sha Zhu by the arms, while two patrolmen supported his legs, and together they lifted him onto the back of a three-wheeled motorcycle. The vehicle sputtered away, kicking up a cloud of coal dust.

"Ouch!"

"What kind of misfortune has this happened to me...?"

"Who did this? Who has such a deep grudge against Sha Zhu?"

"Silly Zhu, you absolutely have to hold on!"

As Li Guoxian and Xu Damao helped the old man walk back, they saw him slumped on the cold ground, his hands covering his face, his shoulders shaking violently, his white beard covered with tears, which mixed with snot and flowed down his face.

After retiring, Sha Zhu brought him soup and medicine every day, and took him to the hospital to have his blood pressure and blood sugar checked. Every season, he would take apart and wash his and the old lady's thick cotton quilts, drying them until they were fluffy and soft before bringing them back. In winter, he would light the stove in advance, and in summer, he would prepare sour plum soup early... He had long treated Sha Zhu like his own son, and the old lady even embroidered the patches on Sha Zhu's shirts into butterfly patterns. Now that Sha Zhu had been harmed and had fallen into a coma, the two elderly people were even more heartbroken than Lin Meili's family, feeling as if their hearts were being cut by a dull knife.

Li Guoxian quickly squatted down and wrapped the old man's legs with his own cotton-padded coat; Xu Damao quickly took off his woolen hat and put it on the old man's head.

"Sigh..." Uncle Liu Haizhong squatted down beside him and spat fiercely, "That heartless beast! Burning twice! If he's caught, even ten executions wouldn't be enough!"

Yan Bugui stood under the locust tree in the courtyard, his hands in the pockets of his faded blue cloth jacket, his brows furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. He knew the inside story, but the words were stuck in his throat, unable to be uttered or swallowed—he had witnessed what Banggeng had done with his own eyes, but last time Shazhu and Lin Meili had managed to suppress the matter and not make a sound.

What about this time? He didn't dare to gamble. He decided to leave it at that for now and wait for Sha Zhu to wake up to see what he would do.