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

Down with imperialism!!!

"The people are the masters of their own country!!!"

"Democracy and freedom!!!"

“…………”

As we were walking, a group of students suddenly surged up in front of us, holding banners high, clenching their fists, and shouting slogans at the top of their lungs.

The flow of people was immediately cut off, and Li Wenguo had no choice but to retreat to the side of the road with the crowd, stepping aside to make way, and observing the energetic group of students with great interest—another vivid sight these days.

The one leading the group was a young man: his hair was meticulously combed with hair wax, his side parting was shiny, his suit was pressed, his tie was neat, and his brows exuded a sharp and capable air.

With a high nose bridge and clear skin, he would definitely be considered a handsome young man in later generations.

But Li Wenguo's gaze didn't linger on him for long—it was completely captivated by the female students.

They had short, ear-length hair, wore plain headbands, navy blue twill shirts, knee-length black skirts, snow-white socks, and round-toed black leather shoes. They walked briskly, full of energy, and exuded youthful vitality, like magnolias just beginning to bloom in early spring.

It's truly a vibrant and delicious dish.

Li Wenguo's eyes lit up.

Especially the girl in the second row, about seventeen or eighteen years old, with clear eyes like a stream, a slender waist like a willow branch, and an unexpectedly full and round chest, yet it didn't look out of place at all, but rather like two ripe peaches held up by green branches, naturally just right.

Although the other girls were also neat and tidy, they paled in comparison to her, like stars surrounding the moon.

Li Wenguo's heart skipped a beat after just one glance.

Want to marry her?

Cough... Actually, my body reacted a beat faster than my brain; my kidney energy surged, and my blood rushed to my head.

"Beep—beep—beep—!!!"

A piercing whistle suddenly rang out!

The back of the student line immediately fell into chaos.

Beside Li Wenguo, a thin, middle-aged man shook his head and sighed heavily.

"well--"

"These kids are going to have a tough time again."

Before he finished speaking, Li Wenguo was already on edge, his eyes fixed on the front.

"The black dog is here!"

"Run, students!"

Suddenly someone shouted, and the entire group scattered like startled birds fleeing the forest, running away in all directions.

The street erupted in chaos.

In the blink of an eye, a squad of patrol officers caught up: their black uniforms were crisp and straight, batons in hand, and brass whistles in their mouths. They pounced on the school uniforms with the agility of hungry wolves eyeing lambs.

Seeing that it was a student being arrested, most passersby stopped and watched, their faces showing a mixture of sympathy, apathy, and a relaxed, spectator-like attitude.

Just then—

That pure yet alluring girl, in a panic, rushed straight towards Li Wenguo.

She ran quickly, her breathing ragged, her headband tilted slightly, and her skirt fluttering, like a startled white dove.

The one relentlessly pursuing them was a patrolman with a flat nose, narrow eyes, and a crooked mouth. His eyes were slick, and his steps were hurried, clearly indicating that he harbored ill intentions.

Logically, Li Wenguo should have pretended not to see it.

But as the delicate scent of gardenias brushed past his nose, he inexplicably moved his foot—his right foot subtly extended forward, landing perfectly in front of the man's boot tip.

"Ouch--!!!"

Caught off guard, the patrolman fell forward, his mouth full of dust.

He struggled to his feet, looked around, and angrily cursed, "Which bastard tried to ambush me? Are they tired of living?!"

Before the words were even finished, the surrounding people had already vanished without a trace, and even the stray cats under the wall had disappeared.

The instigator, Li Wenguo, had already blended into the crowd, turned the corner, and disappeared without a trace.

The patrol officers failed to catch the mastermind behind the disturbance, and the students they had lost track of had long since disappeared. So they took their anger out on bystanders, glaring at the students watching.

"What a pity!"

"I didn't even get to know the girl's name; I'm afraid I'll never see her again."

Hopefully, she'll learn her lesson from this experience and won't run into trouble again.

"Saving you once is a favor, but saving you twice? Only a fool would do that."

Li Wenguo turned into another street, his steps unhurried, but his mind was still preoccupied with the female student he had just met.

It's not that he can't forget her—these days, girls who look like that are truly rare.

Along the way, the women I met were either as thin as bamboo poles or had sallow skin and sunken eyes, clearly people who had suffered from chronic lack of food and oil. But she was neat and tidy, with a sharp and capable look in her eyes, like someone who had stepped out of a magazine.

It's hard to forget.

If we knew her name and surname, and traced her back to find out which family she belonged to, we could send a sweet-talking and diligent matchmaker to propose marriage. There might still be hope.

After all, what we're talking about now is arranged marriage by parents and matchmakers. Freedom of love? That's a Western trick, it doesn't count at all.

As long as her parents agree, Li Wenguo is confident that everything is fine.

Although the concept of social class is suffocating, he has the system as his trump card, so he can't end up as a poor and shabby husband, can he?

Whether it was a chance encounter or a fleeting glance, for Li Wenguo, it was nothing more than a leisurely moment after a meal, perhaps while enjoying a cigarette.

The moment I stepped into the brokerage firm, all those thoughts vanished into thin air.

"Sir, please come in! What are your orders? I'll take care of it right away!"

Before he could finish speaking, a middle-aged man in his early forties came up to him with a smile on his face and fine wrinkles around his eyes.

Li Wenguo was dressed in a white shirt and slim-fitting trousers. His skin was clean, his temperament was calm, and his every move exuded a refined air rarely seen in the city. He was clearly not an ordinary person squatting at the entrance of an alley eating sunflower seeds.

"I'd like to rent a place to live. Do you have any suitable options?"

That's right, it's renting, not buying.

As a newcomer, all alone, his hasty purchase of property would be too conspicuous and could easily attract unwanted attention.

Along the way, thugs loitered at alley entrances and ruffians squatted under the eaves of teahouses, their eyes darting around. If they knew that this young man had ventured to Beijing alone, with money in his pocket and a courtyard all to himself—ha, if he were dragged into the moat in the middle of the night in a sack, he wouldn't even make a splash.

These days, if you kill an unknown nobody, the government won't even bother to file a case file, as long as no one sees it.

Besides, would an ordinary citizen dare to sue a local thug? That would mean they're living too comfortably.

As for the patrol officers? At most, they'll frown when collecting a body. Getting them to actually solve a case? That's harder than climbing to heaven.

Unless the sun rises in the west.

Li Wenguo's vigilance was never feigned.

Before the foundation is solid, it is better to walk with a hunched back than to stand tall and attract attention.

The safest way to live is to make a fortune quietly—keep your money hidden, and trouble will stay away.

Besides, five hundred silver dollars wouldn't even get you a decent courtyard house gate in Beijing.

Renting a place is the most reliable option right now.

After a few pleasantries, the broker surnamed Ma led him into a bustling alley.

With so many people around, it's actually safer. Who would dare to commit petty theft in broad daylight?

Li Wenguo himself quite enjoyed it: "I love listening to the hustle and bustle of the city; the noisier it is, the more at ease I feel."

……

"Besides renting, are there many houses for sale?"

"So many! They're everywhere!"

"Most of the people living here are Manchus. With the collapse of the old dynasty, their official hats were removed, they lost their jobs, and they were too ashamed to do business, so life became tighter every day."

"Income has dried up, but expenses haven't decreased—especially opium. They wouldn't even bother with the cheap kind, preferring to frequent the glittering opium dens. They indulge in eating, drinking, gambling, and sleeping, and their savings are emptied in the blink of an eye."

"In the end, all that's left are these old houses left by our ancestors."

"But that stuff is a bottomless pit. If you don't let him suck it in, he'll go crazy. Those who can endure it grit their teeth and rent out their houses to make ends meet. Those who can't? They can only hold the property deed and squat outside the real estate agency waiting for a buyer."

Manager Ma kept rambling on and on, shaking his head as he spoke.

"Are the courtyard houses in Nanluoguxiang like this too?"

Li Wenguo remained calm and casually inquired about the courtyard he planned to occupy in the future.

"Ugh, they're all the same!"

In this world, who can remain unscathed?

Manager Ma sighed, a hint of sadness flashing across his face.

His expression suggested that he himself had been wallowing in this mud.

Li Wenguo's heart skipped a beat: Could it be that Manager Ma was also one of them?

As they spoke, the two stopped in front of a vermilion-lacquered, mottled hanging flower gate.

This is a standard two-courtyard siheyuan (traditional courtyard house).

The main house has three rooms, which the owner lives in; the west wing has two rooms, which are occupied by two families; there are four side rooms, three of which are rented out; only the two rooms in the east wing are still empty, with the locks on the door lintels gleaming.

"Hey, Old Ma's here!"

"I was saying that magpies were fluttering and chirping on the branches early this morning!"

"So, we have distinguished guests!"

"Please come in quickly! Please come in quickly!!"

"Sit down! Sit down quickly!!!"

The master's family had fallen on hard times, and his once upright posture had crumbled into a camel's hump. He spoke with unusual deference.

When money comes knocking on your door, how can you not greet it with a smile?

He also nodded amicably to Li Wenguo.

While nodding in return, Li Wenguo secretly sized up the old man—his eyes were sunken like knife cuts, his face was ashen yellow, his fingers were charred black, and his addiction to tobacco had long since seeped into his bones.

What was even stranger was that the front half of his head was shaved clean, while the back of his head had a tuft of long, shiny hair that hung down to his shoulder, looking both comical and out of place. But Li Wenguo knew in his heart that this was precisely the most eye-catching outfit he was wearing right now.

Manchus and old scholars are the ones who love to live their lives wrapped in old dreams.

They longed for the Qing Dynasty's dragon flag to be raised again in the Forbidden City, for the queues to be swung again, and for the ancestral rules to be reinstated.

It's a pity that dream was shattered by gunfire in the winds of the Xinhai Revolution.

He was polite as he was, but the moment money was mentioned, his face immediately tightened.

Li Wenguo immediately tried to lower the price, cutting the rent in half.

If a person is too soft, others will dare to step on their head and urinate on them; if a horse is too docile, the rider will specifically target it to whip.

This has been the case in every dynasty, and it is even more so now.

Moreover, it was blatant and overt—confiscating property from those who had no descendants, bullying the deaf and mute, robbing widows, and seizing tenants; it was rampant throughout the streets.

So he deliberately put on a difficult face, glaring at him and refusing to give an inch.

Before his transmigration, he had spent many years navigating the complexities of society. While he hadn't developed the ability to be shrewd and worldly-wise, his skills in judging people, assessing situations, and guarding against being harmed were already ingrained in his very being.

What followed was a back-and-forth tug-of-war.

One was eager to sell, and the other couldn't wait to finalize the deal, so naturally, the deal was finalized in no time.

Li Wenguo acted decisively and booked both rooms in the east wing.

The point is peace and quiet—I don't want my neighbor to be separated by only a thin wooden board, so I can hear them coughing clearly in the middle of the night.

Two rooms cost eight silver dollars per month, including cleaning and laundry.

The contract was written and signed on the spot, in black and white, and it was set in stone.

The room was furnished with a bed, table and chairs, and a trunk. The host had kept it clean and tidy, and even the mattresses had been freshly aired. You could just bring your bags and move in without having to stay at an inn.

Li Wenguo finally laid down the first stake in this city.