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

"Comrade Xu Damao is absolutely right. He has a very high level of political awareness. We should all learn from Comrade Zhang Dabiao."

"Now, please welcome Comrade Zhang Dabiao to the stage to say a few words to everyone."

Zhang Dabiao patted the sunflower seed crumbs off his hands.

He slowly stood up and walked to the square table.

All eyes in the hospital were on him.

Yi Zhonghai moved aside to make room for him.

Zhang Dabiao cleared his throat.

"Actually, there's not much to discuss about this."

"There are only two awards, and they were already announced last year. Who would have thought it would happen again this year?"

"This matter is actually a bit troublesome."

"As everyone knows, my east wing room is spacious."

"But this wall is really too small." Zhang Dabiao pointed to the side room. To show off, he built a canopy on the wall on the side facing the rain and put a glass display window on the wall, the waterproof kind.

This way, anyone passing by would see the rewards. Generally speaking, anyone with a brain wouldn't dare trespass into his side courtyard and east wing after seeing these things. Moreover, there were plaques hanging there indicating that they were "subordinate R&D studios" of three departments—Zhang Dabiao's east wing was equivalent to a ministerial-level subordinate R&D unit, so ordinary people wouldn't dare to wander around there.

The problem now is that the wall display window is only so big, and there are more and more certificates and banners now, so there's no room to put them all.

"The certificate of merit given to me by the neighborhood committee before."

"There are also various commendations and awards given by the school, the police station, and the ministry."

"Now we have two more certificates for national awards."

"I really have nowhere else to hang it on this wall."

"It's quite troublesome."

"Director Wang, could you please talk to the higher-ups for me and ask them to stop making such a big fuss?"

"It's enough that everyone knows about this."

"We should keep a low profile, keep a low profile."

After saying that, Zhang Dabiao helplessly shrugged.

The audience was silent.

The air seemed to freeze.

Yi Zhonghai's face turned purplish-red.

Liu Haizhong gritted his teeth, making a grinding sound. He couldn't even get an advanced certificate, while Zhang Dabiao's side was already overflowing with decorations!

Yan Bugui was frantically calculating in his mind how wonderful it would be if he could exchange this certificate for money.

That was an over-the-top show of bravado.

They're practically leaving no way for anyone else to survive.

Xu Damao was the first to react.

He shouted "Good!" at the top of his lungs.

The two hands clapped loudly.

The others then seemed to realize what was happening and joined in the applause.

Director Wang chuckled and stuffed the certificate into Zhang Dabiao's hand.

The meeting ended in this strange atmosphere, with neighbors swarming around Zhang Dabiao to try and get close to him.

The three old men slunk back into their houses.

After dealing with his neighbors, Zhang Dabiao took the certificate of merit and returned to the east courtyard.

Qin Jingru, He Yushui, Mu Wanqing and the others had already set out a sumptuous feast inside the house.

Braised pork belly, steamed fish, chicken stew with mushrooms, stir-fried potatoes, green peppers, and eggplant...

The scheming outsiders are none of my business; we'll just eat our food. Their scheming is none of my concern.

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

Early February.

Big news has come from Hong Kong.

The Dongjiang-Shenzhen Water Supply Project has officially commenced construction.

The Hong Kong British government finally allowed ships to be sent to the mainland to collect fresh water.

Hong Kong's long-standing water crisis has shown signs of easing.

The competitors in the market sensed a business opportunity.

Everyone is preparing to resume work and seize the market again.

But in the headquarters office of Mixue Ice Cream in Shau Kei Wan.

Cheung Yiu-yeung (Cheung Tai-piu) was leaning back in his boss's chair, smoking a cigar. He usually came two or three times a week to check on the business and get a feel for things.

As for smoking cigars—it's just to show off like Hong Kong bosses.

Although all stores and publishing houses have "professional managers," it's not like Roy Cheung can really just leave everything to himself.

Jin Youlai stood in front of the desk with a stack of reports in his hand.

"The water supply situation has improved now."

"Competitors are all lowering prices to attract customers."

"Should Mixue Ice Cream also adjust its strategy? Like, maybe launch some promotional events or something?"

Cheung Yiu-yeung exhaled a puff of smoke.

"What a load of crap."

"The Dongjiang-Shenzhen Water Supply Project has just started construction, and the water from afar cannot quench the immediate thirst."

"Even if we send boats to haul water, how much can we haul?"

"We don't lack water ourselves, and we don't have any boats, so why should we join in that fun?"

"Continue to operate at the original price."

"We'll be able to live off the profits from this milk tea and bottled water business for a few more months."

Jin Youlai nodded repeatedly, noting down his boss's instructions.

He was deeply impressed by Roy Cheung's business acumen.

He does whatever the boss says. And aside from other things, the Mixue Ice Cream shops on Shau Kei Wan Main Street, along with three other Mixue shops, basically monopolize about 30% of the tea stalls and ice cream parlors near the shops. Because Hong Kong has been short of water in recent years, Mixue Ice Cream has never run out of water.

Although a single cup of milk tea is very cheap, when you add in the various breads and pastries, as well as the bottled water business, Mixue Ice Cream has a solid cash flow. Little by little, it adds up, and their current savings are quite impressive.

Zhang Yaoyang didn't dare to invest in anything casually. Although he was a time traveler, he didn't remember much about Hong Kong, and he didn't have the professional knowledge. To be honest, he didn't dare to try things like finance, real estate, or factory construction. Mainly, he didn't have enough time, so he decided to wait and see.

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

Let's shift our focus back to Beijing.

Zhang Dabiao spent a huge sum of money in the early stages.

Using the name of patriotic Hong Kong businessman "Roy Cheung", he frantically amassed 100,000 ordinary cultural relics, although 99% of them were not valuable items.

But this solidified his reputation as "Zhang the Great Philanthropist" (the Fool) in Beijing's black market for antiques.

Everyone in the circle knows he's a fool with too much money.

Most importantly, Zhang the philanthropist has patriotic Hong Kong businessmen backing him up, and he's also incredibly naive and rich.

It was an afternoon in early March.

A young man with a Harbin accent was carrying a tattered bundle.

He inquired his way all the way and found Old Jin's courtyard house.

Old Jin was sitting in a grand chair, playing with walnuts.

The young man put the tattered bundle on the table.

"Master Jin".

"I heard that you don't haggle over prices when buying old items, and you're fair and honest."

"I have some family heirlooms here, could you please take a look?"

As he spoke, the young man untied his bundle.

More than thirty pieces of calligraphy and paintings were haphazardly stuffed inside.

Old Jin casually leaned over.

He casually flipped to the top scroll.

I only glanced at it.

Old Jin's hands, which were holding walnuts, began to tremble violently.

The scroll clearly bears the inscription "Poems of Tiaoxi" by Mi Fu of the Northern Song Dynasty.

This is a priceless treasure.

The young man rubbed his hands together.

"Master Jin".

"Our family is really struggling to make ends meet; they're still waiting for money to pay for medical treatment."

"Give me a fair price for these items."

"Take all 1,500 yuan."

Old Jin, suppressing his racing heart, was about to habitually try to lower the price.

The curtain to the east wing was lifted.

Zhang Dabiao strode out; he had come today to collect goods and transport them to Xiangjiang Village House via "Xiaowo".

Although he doesn't understand calligraphy and painting.

But he understood Old Gold's reaction all too well.

The only thing that could make this old fox's hands tremble like this is a national treasure with its treasures completely exposed.

Zhang Dabiao pulled out three stacks of brand-new 100-yuan notes from his pocket.

It was slammed on the table with a loud thud.

"brother."

"Anything that Master Jin sets his sights on is good stuff."

I won't try to lower your price.

"Leave your things, and take this three thousand yuan in cash."

The young man was completely dumbfounded.

He knelt down with a thud.

He kowtowed three times to Zhang Dabiao.

"My great benefactor!"

"You saved our whole family's lives."

The young man took the money and ran away, thanking everyone profusely.

Old Jin was so excited he was incoherent.

"Da Biao."

"This is the 'Poetry Scroll of Tiaoxi'."

Zhang Dabiao scratched his head—【What the heck? Never heard of it.】

"An authentic work by Mitty!"