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

A few days later, one person was running around to get the paperwork done, while the other was overseeing the construction site and selecting a team. After seven days of hard work, the pile driver finally started to rumble.

"Uncle, over there with the refrigerators, is the production line up and running yet?"

In the general manager's office of Shuyu Real Estate Company, Li Jiayu, dressed in a dark gray suit and with his tie neatly tied, held the newly signed construction contract in his hand and turned to ask a question.

He took charge of the real estate business, while entrusting the entire refrigerator assembly plant to Li Guoshu.

"We started working on it a long time ago." Li Guoshu leaned against the window, twirling a fountain pen in his hand. "We produce a hundred units a day, and they are shipped to Beijing the next day."

This business is highly profitable—after deducting the cost of materials, shipping, and labor, each refrigerator nets a profit of 500 yuan. One hundred refrigerators would be 50,000 yuan, and over 10 million yuan a year would be easily pocketed, making it a veritable money-making machine.

If it weren't for the fact that the three major components—compressor, condenser, and evaporator—had to be exclusively supplied from the factory in Hong Kong, along with a sufficient number of certified technicians and a production license approved by the Ministry of Light Industry, the profits could more than double if we built our own factory to reduce costs.

But these days, apart from a few old state-owned factories, who really dares to claim they can develop and produce their own products? They can't even gather all the blueprints, let alone debug the production line.

"Haha, great!" Li Jiayu slapped his thigh, his eyes lighting up. "Our capital is snowballing! Next time, we'll take the whole plot!"

Refrigerator assembly is currently in the trial production stage—we're not in a rush to expand production; we'll see how well the finished products perform first, and then listen to what the buyers have to say. After all, with appliances, without years of accumulated skills, you can't guarantee quality just by assembling them based on blueprints. We can only let the market be the judge and let time prove their worth.

However, both of them were confident: the core components were all directly supplied by the Hong Kong factory, and were tested three times before leaving the factory, so the quality was as hard as steel.

Once the feedback is positive, doubling, quadrupling, or even tripling production is not just empty talk.

After having dinner at the Holiday Inn that evening, Li Jiayu was called away by an urgent phone call.

Li Guoshu remained alone on the terrace, holding a glass of red wine, quietly gazing out the window.

It was 1983, but Shanghai had already been written into the national plan to become an international metropolis. Under the night sky, the lights on both sides of the Huangpu River poured down like a galaxy, the light strips of the elevated bridges meandered like dragons, and neon lights flowed on the glass curtain walls—this scene already hinted at a futuristic atmosphere.

He took a sip of his drink, a surge of emotion welling up inside him: in this city that was growing rapidly, he wanted to stand higher, even higher, and let his gaze go beyond the buildings and reach further afield.

Around 8 o'clock, he got up and went back to his room to wash up.

The black and gold VIP card that my brother from Hong Kong gave me—just swipe it and I get a free room. He's been staying here all this time.

Just as I stepped out of the private room and turned into the side of the corridor, I suddenly saw a woman staggering towards me, her steps unsteady, the hem of her skirt brushing the ground, her voice trembling: "Help...help me!"

She had delicate features and a well-proportioned figure, but her cheeks were unusually flushed, and her eyes were unfocused, as if she had drunk half a jin of liquor.

"Damn it, he's not in the bathroom!"

"Quick, after them—!"

The sound came from the end of the corridor. Two men in black suits had already turned the corner, their footsteps heavy and hurried.

Li Guoshu's heart sank. He immediately reached out and grabbed the woman's arm, half-dragging and half-leading her into an empty corridor on the side.

The two men had barely slipped into the shadows when the two men in black brushed past the pillars, no more than a hundred meters away.

He had already pressed the elevator button.

"Hurry up!" The footsteps behind him grew closer and closer, thumping on the carpet like drums.

There are two people on the other side. As long as they block the exit, the other one can carry the person away.

As for why he pursued her—he knew without a doubt.

Since we've already run into them, we can't just stand by and do nothing.

Fortunately, the elevator doors opened with a "ding," half a second earlier than the two people.

As the elevator car ascended to the thirtieth floor and the doors closed, Li Guoshu finally let out a slow breath.

The woman beside him went limp, almost collapsing into his arms, her breathing shallow and rapid.

"He drank quite a lot, didn't he..." he muttered to himself.

But they didn't notice that there wasn't a trace of alcohol on her neck, hair, or collar.

In less than two minutes, he practically carried her to bed in the guest room.

The two were so close that his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, his ears burned, and his blood throbbed in his temples—for the first time in twenty-six years, he had been so close to a woman that he could even hear the frequency of her eyelashes fluttering.

He was about to straighten up and take a step back when the woman suddenly opened her eyes—her pupils were bloodshot, and she showed no signs of intoxication. The next instant, her arms wrapped around his neck like vines, and with a forceful pull, he fell down, his forehead hitting her collarbone, warm and hard.

Holy crap...

early morning.

"Smack!!!"

When Wang Tingxi opened her eyes, she was lying on a soft sheet, but completely naked. A dull, throbbing pain emanated from her lower abdomen, as if it had been crushed and kneaded by a heavy object. Her gaze shifted to the side, and she saw a strange man lying beside her, his profile clearly defined, his breathing even and deep—her mind exploded, and she raised her hand to slap him hard across the face.

"You bastard! You filthy thing!"

"How dare you treat me like this? I'll call the police and have you arrested right now!"

Li Guoshu was pretending to be asleep when the slap landed squarely on his left cheek, stinging painfully.

He sat up abruptly, his hair slightly disheveled, his eyes still groggy from just waking up, but he didn't dare to be negligent for a moment and hurriedly said, "It really wasn't me! Listen to me—I ran into you in the hallway last night. You were unsteady on your feet, your face was burning red, you couldn't even stand properly, and you grabbed my wrist begging me to save you... I helped you into the room, and when I turned to leave, you suddenly hugged me from behind and dragged me to the bed... After that... after that you didn't let go."

Wang Tingxi froze, fragments of last night flashing before her eyes: the island leader had taken her to a banquet, where the foreign businessman at the table smiled amiably, yet the wine glasses were constantly being exchanged; she slipped out under the pretext of going to the restroom, her back soaked with cold sweat, her legs weak, her vision blurring, she only remembered stumbling into the elevator, seeing a man in a dark gray shirt standing in the corner, his features clear and handsome, she rushed over and grabbed his sleeve, her voice trembling uncontrollably: "Help me... quickly..."

Beyond that, there was only a scorching chaos.

"Waaah..."

She suddenly buried her face in her knees, her shoulders heaving violently, her sobs muffled by the fabric, like a wounded animal curling up and panting.

More than twenty years of clean and innocent life, all gone in one night.

Li Guoshu's Adam's apple bobbed, his fingers nervously picking at the edge of the bed, his voice extremely soft: "You... don't cry. It's my fault, I didn't know my limits... it's really my fault... please stop crying, okay?"

He knew in his heart that if he was truly determined to push her away, even if she tugged at his clothes, he should get up and leave. But at that moment, she looked up, her eyes reddened, her lips slightly parted, her hot breath brushing against his neck... He ultimately couldn't resist.

"Waaaaah—!!!"

She cried even harder, large tears falling onto the back of her hand.

He was speechless and could only sit on the edge of the bed, motionless, even breathing very softly, for fear of disturbing the grievances that filled the room.

After a while, the crying gradually subsided, becoming intermittent, and finally just sobs. She raised her face, her eyes red and swollen, her eyelashes wet and clumped together, but she no longer spoke, just sat quietly, like a porcelain doll wilted by the rain.

"Um..." Li Guoshu tentatively suggested, "Why don't you go take a shower first? Change your clothes?"

Wang Tingxi didn't answer, only glanced at him sideways, then pulled the sheet over herself and wrapped it tightly. She tiptoed, bent over, and moved stiffly toward the bathroom. With each step, her inner thighs tightened and ached, making it impossible for her to straighten her back.

The drug was too strong last night; even in her dazed state, she instinctively clung to him, and now she can barely lift her leg.

As soon as the door closed, Li Guoshu immediately picked up the clothes scattered on the floor and put them on. When he returned to the bedside to sit down, he realized that she had rolled up the sheets, revealing a striking dark red underneath, like a few plum petals blooming in the snow.

He stared at it for two seconds, then let out a long sigh: "Sigh... what kind of mess is this?"

How can a simple "I'm sorry" erase someone's innocence?

marry her?

He knew nothing about her, not even her name, where she lived, or whether she had a fiery or gentle temperament.

Losing money?

She wore a well-tailored beige suit jacket and an elegant Seiko watch on her wrist; she was clearly not short of money. Besides, innocence shouldn't be measured by numbers.

He was in a daze when a scream of "Ah—!" ripped through the silence in the bathroom, followed by a muffled thud, like a person falling heavily onto the tiles.

Li Guoshu felt a chill run down his spine. He rushed to the door, turned the knob, and burst inside.

She lay on her back on the floor, her right ankle twisted to one side, her brows furrowed tightly, and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. As soon as he entered, she clutched her chest, her voice trembling, "Get out! Don't look! Don't come any closer!"

He didn't care about avoiding suspicion anymore, bending down and scooping her up in his arms. She stiffened, her ears instantly burning red, her lips trembling for a long time before she finally managed to stammer, "You...you bastard!"

He didn't reply, but quickly walked back to the bedside, gently put her down, and casually grabbed a large bath towel from the sofa and handed it to her: "You can dry yourself off." He then bent down to pick up the neatly folded clothes from the floor, placed them neatly beside her, and then turned and went into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, he came out with half-dry hair, a towel draped over his shoulder, and water still dripping from the ends of his hair.

Wang Tingxi was already dressed: her beige suit jacket was buttoned up meticulously, her black trousers were crisp, but she was only wearing one hotel slipper, with the other foot dangling over the edge of the bed, her ankle slightly swollen and bluish-white.

"Where did you fall? Does it hurt? I'll go get some medicine for bruises and sprains," he asked.

"I twisted my ankle." Her voice was hoarse and she spoke slowly. "When I came out, my lower body was hurting terribly, and I instinctively switched feet to brace myself... and that's how I twisted my ankle."

"Wait for me, I'll be right back."

The hotel had a basic first-aid kit on each floor. He found a bottle of safflower oil, ordered two meals at the restaurant downstairs, and then pushed open the door to the room with the insulated bag in hand.

"Um..." He paused, his gaze falling on her right foot resting on the edge of the bed, and hesitated, "Are you going to wipe it yourself, or..."

"Help me." She lowered her eyes, her voice as soft as a feather.

Ankles are a really hard place to reach.

"Oh, okay." He readily agreed, squatted down, and reached out to support her calves.