I feel right at home in the world of the courtyard house.

Drop drop-

At the empty intersection, a black Crown honked its horn, startling pedestrians on the roadside.

Xu Damao rolled down all the car windows, put one arm on the window, and let the other hand hang by the steering wheel. He stretched his head out so that people outside could see that he was the driver. Even though there were no other cars at the intersection, he still honked the horn to remind people on the side of the road to look over.

This is Beijing. Xu Damao drove out of Li Jing'an's place, not going straight back to the courtyard house, but instead taking a long detour, driving around the city several times. He had just come from the Friendship Store and was now wearing a sharp suit, which he had just bought there.

After another hour of driving, it was almost lunchtime when the factory would close. Xu Damao couldn't miss this opportunity, so he quickly stepped on the gas and drove towards the courtyard house—he needed to make sure everyone in the courtyard could see his car when they left work at noon.

Xu Damao carefully parked the car next to the courtyard gate, but didn't rush to get out. He glanced at his watch; it was almost time for the people leaving get off work. He quickly straightened his suit, then combed his slicked-back hair in the rearview mirror, keeping his eyes fixed on the outside.

He only opened the car door and stepped out when a familiar figure appeared nearby.

Sha Zhu was whistling, with two lunchboxes in his pocket, and hurrying into the courtyard with his head down. Just as he reached the gate of the courtyard, he was startled by a car horn and looked up to see a car parked at the gate, with a person getting out of the car.

Isn't that Xu Damao?

"Hey, silly Zhu! What a coincidence!" Xu Damao closed the car door, rubbed his cuffs, stomped his feet, fanned himself with the sides of his suit jacket, and rubbed his shoulders—a series of smooth and natural movements.

Sha Zhu glanced at him, then lowered his head and continued walking inside.

Xu Damao wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by: "Hey, Sha Zhu, can't you see I'm here? Why are you leaving? Come take a look at my outfit!" He quickly blocked Sha Zhu's way on the steps of the courtyard gate, then tugged at his suit jacket and shook it, "Recognize me? Pierre Cardin!"

Xu Damao was so smug that his eyebrows stood up, and his expression was incredibly irritating.

Do you know how much it costs? You'll be shocked when I tell you!

"Hey, you better not tell anyone, what if I'm really scared to death?" Sha Zhu quickly interrupted Xu Damao, not wanting to hear him gloating. He took another step to the side, trying to go around him. But Xu Damao blocked him wherever he moved.

Sha Zhu finally gave in to Xu Damao's antics and stood there watching him, wanting him to finish his boasting.

"Hehe, eight hundred foreign exchange certificates! That's more than a long time's salary for you! And see the car? Mine!" Xu Damao smugly swung his keys again and pointed to the black Crown next to him.

Sha Zhu finally seemed to be moved. He glanced at the imposing Crown car next to him, then asked in a serious tone, "What's wrong, Da Mao? Did you steal it? We can't do illegal things, or we'll arrest you and execute you."

"Pah! Stealing? Who would steal this thing? Making such a big fuss, do you want to die? Let me tell you, this was given to me by Brother Li Jing'an! He knows I'm talented. Why did Brother Li come to the courtyard yesterday? He doesn't care about the house at all, he just found an excuse to invite me!" Xu Damao's words became more and more outrageous, until he almost believed them himself, his face practically floating on air.

Taking advantage of the moment, Sha Zhu quickly bypassed him and ran into the courtyard.

"Hey! Silly Zhu! Wait, I haven't finished yet!" Xu Damao realized what was happening and chased after him.

Then another sound came from the courtyard—

"Hey, Uncle San, watering the flowers!"

"Da Mao? I almost didn't recognize you dressed like that!"

"Haha, Uncle San has a good eye! Pierre Cardin!"

Xu Damao swaggered from the front yard all the way to the back yard before finally entering the house.

"Jingru, I'm back!" Xu Damao sat down on the chair on the left, crossed his legs, and called out to the inner room.

"Hey, I heard your car's engine running, so why didn't I hear it?"

Qin Jingru came out from the inner room, and her words startled Xu Damao—right, the car was still at Li Jing'an's. What if it got rained on and rusted? He suddenly put his foot down, making a gesture as if to go out, then relaxed.

"What's wrong with me? Huh? I'm driving a car now, why would I care about that old bicycle? What's my net worth now?" Xu Damao mentally berated himself.

"Hey, Damao, you don't go out dressed like this. Where did you get these clothes? The fabric is pretty good." Qin Jingru's eyes lit up as she walked over to Xu Damao and touched his shoulder.

"Hey, hey, Pierre Cardin! Do you even know how much it costs? Don't touch me like that." Xu Damao quickly shoved Qin Jingru's hand away and then brushed off imaginary dust from his shoulder.

"What a character." Qin Jingru rolled her eyes, but couldn't help her curiosity, "What's wrong, Da Mao?"

"Hehe, I wasn't going to see Li Jing'an today to chat and catch up. Who knew he'd be so enthusiastic, constantly trying to get my help. I was forced into it, so I agreed. Here's what I got: a sum of foreign exchange certificates, a new outfit, and even a car for me," Xu Damao said casually.

"Huh? Li Jing'an gave it to you? Weren't you planning to work with Second Uncle? Why did you go to see Li Jing'an?"

"Hey, who gave Liu Haizhong a haircut? Does he even deserve it? He's just a blockhead. I was just placating him. If Li Jing'an hadn't repeatedly pleaded with me, I wouldn't have come out of retirement so easily."

"Okay, okay, I don't care. The most important thing is how much salary he pays you?" That's what Qin Jingru wanted to know most.

"Hehe." Xu Damao chuckled and held up two fingers.

"two hundred?"

Qin Jingru's eyes lit up. He definitely couldn't say twenty; with Li Jing'an's demeanor, holding up two fingers would surely mean two hundred yuan.

"That's really stingy," Xu Damao said with a look of disdain, then explained, "It's two thousand."

"Two thousand?! My God!" Qin Jingru's mouth was agape, and she kept repeating "two thousand, two thousand".

"Hehe, this two thousand isn't all. Brother Li said there's more commission to come. Ah, finally someone sees my value!" Xu Damao sighed, then, remembering something, said to Qin Jingru, "By the way, before Brother Li left, he asked me, 'Jingru, if you're unhappy working at the guesthouse, you can come work for him.'"

"You agreed?" Qin Jingru stared at Xu Damao.

"I agree, why wouldn't I? How much do you get paid at the guesthouse? With Li Jing'an, just because of me, he'd at least give you a hundred or two, right?"

"Hmm, for your sake!" Qin Jingru thought sarcastically to herself, but didn't say it aloud.

"Oh, right, get ready, go pick up the kids later, and we'll go buy a TV. Hasn't our son been nagging us about wanting one? Let's buy one today, and it has to be a big one—an 18-inch color TV!"

"How are we going to pick them up today? It's during class time, not Saturday or Sunday. Besides, you think you can just buy them like that? Color TVs are in high demand." Qin Jingru scoffed.

"I said I'd buy it, so I'll buy it!" Xu Damao said smugly, then pulled out the envelope he got from Li Jing'an from his pocket—it was noticeably thinner—and shook it.

"Do you know what's inside? Foreign exchange certificates! Let's go to the Friendship Store and buy them!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Hey, what's up with Second Uncle?"

"Heh heh, Pierre Cardin!"