Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

He Daqing rested in a side room of the courtyard for another five or six days. The backache and weakness in his legs that he had been suffering from finally recovered, and his complexion gradually regained its color. These days, eating the hot meals cooked by Sha Zhu and watching his children busy themselves serving him, the scales in his heart had long since tipped to one side—no matter how tender Bai Widow was, she was still separated by a layer of skin, and she could never be as caring as his own children.

That morning, he took a couple of walks around the yard, supporting his back, and felt completely refreshed. He immediately made a decision: he would go back to Baoding to pack his things and then settle down in Beijing to live with his children.

When these words reached the front yard, He Yushui's eyes immediately reddened, and she kept muttering, clutching her handkerchief, "It's good that you're back, it's good that you're back." Sha Zhu leaned against the door frame, his lips also unable to suppress the upward curve of his mouth, but after laughing for less than half a minute, his brows furrowed again.

He and He Yushui exchanged a glance, both harboring the same unease—that widow Bai might very well drag her two sons back with He Daqing to fight their way back. If that happened, the courtyard would never have peace again.

"Brother, do you think... that woman would be willing to come back with you?" He Yushui asked in a low voice.

Sha Zhu scoffed and tapped the door frame with his fingertips: "Whether she's willing or not is irrelevant. If she knows what's good for her, I'll give her a bite to eat for our father's sake; but if she dares to play tricks and disrupt our family's life, then your brother's title of 'Courtyard War God' isn't just for show."

He wasn't exaggerating at all. Back then, Xu Damao had been causing trouble all along, and every time he'd been brought to his knees, it was common knowledge throughout the entire compound. What's more, now he had his brother Wang Huanbo backing him up; Wang Huanbo was now the chief engineer and deputy factory director of Hongxing United Industrial Company, and his words carried considerable weight. With this backing, Sha Zhu felt very secure. If the White Widow dared to cause trouble, he had plenty of ways to deal with her.

As evening fell, smoke rose from the stove in the middle courtyard. Sha Zhu, wearing an apron, tossed the wok, oil sizzling in the pan. He Daqing sat on a small stool beside him, holding a teacup, occasionally offering a few words of advice.

"This tripe needs to be cooked a little less, otherwise it will become tough."

"You were a bit too hasty in caramelizing the braised pork knuckle just now. Next time, simmer it over low heat until it turns a bright, translucent dark red color."

Both were cooks with a lifetime of experience working on the stove. He Daqing was picky, but his eyes showed a hint of satisfaction. Sha Zhu didn't argue back, and adjusted his movements accordingly. Before long, the slight estrangement between father and son faded away considerably amidst the aroma of cooking oil.

The dishes were all laid out, filling the table. Sha Zhu wiped his hands, pulled He Yushui, and walked towards the west courtyard: "Come on, let's invite Huanbo and his wife to eat together. It'll be a good opportunity for my dad to meet them too."

When Wang Huanbo knocked on the door and explained his purpose, he smiled and waved his hand, politely declining: "Zhuzi, Yushui, I won't go to this meal. Today is Uncle He's return and a family reunion for you and your son. If I, an outsider, sit there, Uncle He will feel uncomfortable."

He spoke frankly—before liberation, He Daqing had worked as a cook for the Wang family, but now he was the factory's chief engineer and deputy director, a far cry from his former status. If they were to sit at the same table, He Daqing would inevitably feel awkward, which would disrupt the atmosphere of reconciliation between father and son. It was better for him not to go, allowing the family to have a peaceful meal together, which would make He Daqing feel more at ease.

Sha Zhu thought about it for a moment and agreed that it made sense, so he didn't insist. He thanked him and turned to go back.

Inside the main room, the lights were bright, and four people sat around the eight-immortal table: He Daqing sat in the main seat, Sha Zhu and He Yushui sat on either side, and Yu Li sat down next to Sha Zhu and properly poured wine for her father-in-law.

After three cups of wine, He Daqing's face flushed. He put down his glass, patted his chest, and spoke frankly in front of his siblings and Yu Li: "Don't worry, I'll go to Baoding this time and make things clear with her. If she's willing to settle down and come back to Beijing with me, she'll behave herself; if not, then we'll break up."

He curled his lip, his tone tinged with disdain: "We never got a marriage certificate; we were just living together. To put it bluntly, I wanted her because she was attentive and caring, while she wanted my money and my skills. Did she really think she wanted me because I'm old or because I don't like to shower?"

These words were ridiculously blunt, yet they completely relieved Sha Zhu and He Yushui. It was good that they weren't officially recognized; without a formal title, there wouldn't be any entanglements.

The meal was lively and harmonious. He Daqing became increasingly cheerful with each drink, his words flowing freely as he repeatedly urged Sha Zhu and Yu Li to hurry up and give him a healthy grandson to continue the He family line. Yu Li's cheeks flushed as she listened, and she smiled shyly with her head down. Sha Zhu chuckled beside her, and the room was filled with the warmth of a family reunion.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the sound of a car engine could be heard in the yard.

Sha Zhu drove his grass-green Red Star brand car and parked it steadily at the gate of the courtyard. Yu Li, as the daughter-in-law, sat in the passenger seat; in the back seat, He Yushui sat with He Daqing, holding a cloth bag containing dry food and water in her hand.

The car drove smoothly through the streets of Beijing, without the slightest bump. He Daqing looked out the window, watching the pedestrians coming and going, the factories and shops lining the streets, and felt more and more certain—Beijing was the best place, this was his home.

Before long, we arrived at the train station.

Sha Zhu parked the car and helped He Daqing carry his simple luggage to the ticket gate. He Yushui stood by the platform, her eyes red, repeatedly telling him to be careful on the road and to write to her when they arrived in Baoding.

The train slowly pulled into the station with its whistle blowing. He Daqing, clutching his ticket, boarded the carriage and waved to them from the window. With a long, drawn-out whistle, the wheels slowly turned, and the train gradually pulled away from the platform.

Seeing He Yushui standing in the wind wiping away her tears, He Daqing in the carriage also felt a pang of sadness. He gritted his teeth and thought to himself: No matter what, I must handle this matter properly and return to Beijing to reunite with my family.

But before he could finish his thought, his old problem resurfaced—it wasn't a big deal if Widow Bai refused to come back. With his skills passed down from the imperial chefs, he was sure he could find a younger and more beautiful widow in the capital.

The old lecher's true nature was laid bare amidst the roar of the train; he stroked his chin, already beginning to plot.