Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

The next day, Qin Huairu was discharged from the hospital. Sha Zhu rode Zhang Dabiao's tricycle, with cotton quilts laid out by Qin Jingru, and Qin Huairu rode back with him.

He pedaled very slowly, carefully avoiding any potholes or bumps along the way, afraid of being jolted. Yet, Qin Huairu didn't say a word to him the entire journey, her gaze fixed on the peeling bark of the roadside sycamore trees, her eyes vacant.

The tricycle turned into the alleyway, and before they even reached the gate of the courtyard house, Jia Zhangshi was already waiting there.

Her posture wasn't that of someone being greeted—hands on hips, a feather duster tucked into her waistband, her feet firmly planted, giving her the air of a gatekeeper. Behind her stood several neighbors who had come to watch the spectacle: Auntie San, Yan Jiecheng's wife Yu Li, and two other aunties who were just strolling around, all turning to look at her.

Sha Zhu stopped the car, but before he could say anything, Jia Zhangshi moved first.

"Yo, you're finally back."

The tone didn't sound like someone picking up their daughter-in-law from the hospital; it sounded more like someone waiting for a reckoning.

"Let me tell you, you silly Zhu, this can't just end like this!" Jia Zhangshi raised her hand and slapped it against her chest. "My daughter-in-law is in the hospital, my grandson almost died, and you and Yi Zhonghai colluded to drive people to this point. Tell me, who's going to take responsibility?"

Qin Huairu's face was still pale as she sat on the mattress without raising her head.

Yi Zhonghai came out of the house and walked to the tricycle. His old face was tense, and he didn't say a word. Sha Zhu steadied the handlebars, but didn't speak either—what was there to say?

To say "it was the stick that pushed him"? Isn't that just reopening old wounds? He's not that kind of person.

Besides, every neighbor in the courtyard knew about this, but no one spoke up. Everyone just stood there watching, and some even took a half-step back with the soles of their shoes, afraid of getting involved in this mess.

This is even more painful than being insulted.

Jia Zhangshi started wailing; she just wanted money and compensation!

100 yuan!

She didn't care about the baby in Qin Huairu's belly. When Yushui sent the message earlier, he said that Qin Huairu and the baby were fine, so the old woman didn't take it seriously. Making money was the most important thing now.

When the amount was announced, Yan Bugui happened to be passing by. He froze on the spot, and it took him several seconds to regain his composure. He had already calculated it three times in his mind—[That little bit of money is enough for my family to eat for a year...]

Sha Zhu was finally forced to hand over his money, but he only had two or three yuan.

So Yi Zhonghai had no choice but to help contribute.

Madam Jia wasn't embarrassed at all. She grabbed the bills and counted them one by one in front of everyone. After counting, she curled her lip and said, "That's all? We almost lost two lives! Qin Huairu might even be carrying a son. Is our Jia family's grandson only worth this much?"

She was already choking back tears, and was just about to start another round.

"Mrs. Jia Zhang."

A voice came from the other end of the hallway, unhurried and lazy. Zhang Dabiao strolled over from the other end of the corridor with his hands in his pockets, stopped at the door, glanced around, and then said—

"Was it your precious grandson, Banggeng, who pushed people?"

The courtyard fell silent.

Yes, we all saw what the guy did.

What money did Sha Zhu and Yi Zhonghai lose?

Sha Zhu and Yi Zhonghai also realized what was happening. Sha Zhu felt guilty, deeply guilty towards his beloved Sister Qin.

Yi Zhonghai, on the other hand, just handed over the money without really understanding what was going on. What kind of situation is that?

Well, he felt somewhat guilty. If he hadn't been in such a hurry, this whole thing might not have happened, and the deal might have been finalized.

Sin ah.

Jia Zhangshi's mouth moved, but a sob got stuck in her throat, leaving her in a dilemma. She glared at Zhang Dabiao, her eyes filled with a hatred that said, "It's none of your business if you don't follow the rules," but she didn't utter a single word.

Anyway, I've already got the money, so I'm not going to bother with Zhang Dabiao!

Finally, she stuffed the money into her bosom, grumbled, and turned to go inside. The feather duster swept across the door frame with a "whoosh."

The door closed.

Sha Zhu and Yi Zhonghai exchanged a glance, but neither of them said anything.

What can you do when two suckers are sucking up?

------------

In the days that followed, Sha Zhu entered a special mode.

Every day, he would light a fire and cook. Besides his own portion, there was always a separate earthenware pot on the stove, where he would stew bones, braise pig's feet, or make whatever he thought was "nourishing." He would cook whatever he could find. After it was done, he would take it to the west wing. Sometimes, Qin Huairu would just fall asleep, and he would put it on the windowsill, cover it with a cloth, and not even go inside.

Xiao Dang had just learned to run; her legs were short, but she ran with great energy. She found chasing Sha Zhu to be interesting—because Sha Zhu couldn't run when he was carrying the casserole, so she could catch up.

"Silly Uncle! Meat!"

Silly Zhu held the clay pot protectively in front of him, clutching the lid and deliberately refusing to lift it: "What meat? Where's the meat? There's no meat, it's just white radish today."

Xiao Dang didn't believe it, so she stomped her feet, looked up, and tried to pull herself up with both hands, yelling "Wah wah!"

Sha Zhu grinned, and only when she was extremely anxious did he tilt the lid open a crack to let the fragrance out. Xiao Dangdang immediately quieted down, took several sniffs, and then turned around and ran into the side room to call her mother.

Qin Huairu looked at the scene outside through the window.

She placed her hand on her stomach and didn't move.

------------

One afternoon, Sha Zhu was carrying a clay pot down the corridor.

A dark figure rushed out from the side of the main hall, kicked him in the thigh, and then ran away.

It turns out it was that little rascal Banggeng.

Sha Zhu staggered a couple of steps, the casserole pot tumbled, but thankfully it didn't fall.

There were seven or eight neighbors in the corridor at the time, including Yan Jiecheng's wife Yu Li, Liu Guangtian, and two children playing. They all witnessed this scene and felt bewildered.

Jia Zhangshi stood at the entrance to the main hall, her arms crossed, without saying a word. She stood there like a door god, while Bang Geng hid behind her, looking at Sha Zhu with a sinister gaze and saying nothing.

"It was my eldest grandson who kicked him, so what?"

"Stick!"

Qin Huairu called out from inside the house.

Sha Zhu was stunned for about two seconds.

Then he grinned and awkwardly said to Banggeng, "This kid's really strong, just like me when I was a kid."

Yu Li and the others standing nearby had subtle expressions on their faces and lowered their heads, pretending not to hear.

Zhang Dabiao leaned against a pillar, rolled his eyes, and ignored him.

[What kind of talk is that? You can't possibly resemble someone like me, you idiot!]

Sha Zhu took a couple of steps with the casserole in his hand, then suddenly stopped, frowned, and felt that something was off about what he had just said, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Finally, he shook his head and continued walking.

------------

Banggeng was scolded by Qin Huairu, and he stopped kicking people.

He started "keeping an eye on people".

Bang Geng remembered everything: who went in and out, who exchanged a few words with whom in the corridor, whether they mentioned the Jia family, and who glanced at the side rooms. His eyes shone brightly as he remained silent, hidden in the shadows of the main hall.

In broad daylight, he convincingly portrayed a ghost floating in the air.

Outsiders didn't know what Jia Zhangshi had instilled in him, but people in the courtyard gradually noticed that the child had become less talkative, not because he was composed, but because he was cold and gloomy.

One type—I'll kill your whole family sooner or later.

A chilling, venomous coldness.