Courtyard House: Ten-year-old Master Zhu reorganizes the entire courtyard

Late September, 1945.

The sky over Beiping was as if it were dead, a gloomy gray that pressed down.

street.

At the end of the alley.

The lifeless female voice on the radio sounded like a death knell, repeating itself over and over again.

"It is hereby stipulated that the exchange rate between legal tender and the counterfeit Union Bank notes is one to two hundred."

"Effective immediately, redeemable within a limited time, expired redemptions will be void..."

One to two hundred.

These four words exploded in Beiping City, leaving people in a bloody mess.

A muffled thud was heard inside the teahouse.

An old man in a long gown, still clutching a stack of gaudy counterfeit coins tightly in his hand, had already slipped under the table.

The money from selling the ancestral home.

Money for his son's wedding.

In just one night, this money was only enough to buy a few bags of flour.

Xidan Restaurant.

At the entrance to the kitchen, He Yuzhu squatted on the threshold, watching coldly.

Human tragedies unfolded one after another.

The restaurant was in an uproar.

The waiter huddled in the corner, clutching a few tattered bills, crying like a two-hundred-pound child.

The chef slammed the knife down on the cutting board, the back of the knife making a buzzing sound.

His eyes were so red they looked like they were about to bleed.

"What kind of world is this?!"

"The Japanese used to rob, but the Kuomintang switched to deception!"

"I saved up for ten years for my funeral, and in the end, I can't even afford a thin coffin board!"

He Daqing sat in his armchair, picking up the purple clay teapot in his hand and then putting it down again.

The tea is cold.

My heart is colder than tea.

Looking at his old buddies who had followed him for many years, he felt as if a huge stone was lodged in his heart, making him feel suffocated.

"father."

He Yuzhu stood up, patted the dirt off his backside, and walked over.

He Daqing raised his head.

For the first time, that face, which was always able to speak to people in a way that suited them perfectly, was filled with nothing but sorrow.

"Pillar... what are we going to do?"

"Little Liu's mother is so sick she can't get out of bed, and she's counting on that little bit of money to stay alive. The Zhao family has five children, five mouths to feed, and if this happens... the whole family will starve."

He Yuzhu didn't speak immediately.

As early as the second volume, with guidance from the organization, the family's money had already been exchanged for hard Yuan Shikai silver dollars and gleaming gold bars, and there were even several boxes of life-saving penicillin hidden in the cellar.

When the storm came, the He family's ship remained as steady as Mount Tai.

But these ordinary people were swept into the water by a single wave.

"Dad, let's lend a hand."

He Yuzhu's voice wasn't loud, but each word was delivered with force.

"Pull? Pull with what?" He Daqing smiled bitterly, his face scrunched up like a bitter gourd. "With our meager resources, how can we possibly fill the hole that heaven has created?"

"It's not free."

He Yuzhu leaned close to his father's ear and whispered very softly.

"Remember those two thousand catties of cornmeal and several hundred catties of wheat flour in the cellar? We bought them a while ago, they were cheap."

"Go and talk to those experienced masters you trust."

"We're not going to use his bullshit 1:200 ratio."

"Let's do it at a ratio of one to fifty."

"Take their counterfeit money and exchange it for food!"

He Daqing's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Zhu Zi, are you delirious? That stuff is just waste paper! Why would we collect it?"

"Waste paper, even waste paper has its uses."

He Yuzhu's eyes were as deep as an ancient well.

"I know how to spend this money."

"Dad, think about it. At this critical moment, whoever gives you food is like a second parent. This kind of affection is called a life-or-death bond."

"From now on, no matter how the political landscape changes, this Xizhong Restaurant will always be the He family's impregnable empire!"

The approach?

He Yuzhu doesn't have any connections.

He simply wanted to use this most basic yet most effective method to win over the organization and to build up a reputation for his father that no one could take away from him.

As for the grain...

In the system space, it's piled up like a mountain, but it's just a drop in the ocean.

But for those outside, a single grain of rice is a life.

He Daqing stared intently at his son for a full half minute.

Finally, he slapped himself hard on the thigh.

"Let's do it!"

"I'll listen to you!"

"Damn it, if this world won't give us a way to survive, we men will forge our own!"

……

night.

It's too deep.

The back door of Xidan Restaurant quietly opened a crack.

A few old men pushed a creaky wheelbarrow covered with a thick straw curtain.

Under the curtain were grains.

It's fate.

"Master He..."

Old Zhao, the man who cut the chopping block, a seven-foot-tall Shandong man, walked up to He Daqing and slammed his knee on the bluestone slab with a "thud".

"I am deeply grateful!"

"From now on, with just a word from you, my life, Old Zhao's life, is yours!"

He Daqing's eyes reddened, and he quickly pulled the person up.

"Hurry, hurry! Don't let anyone see us!"

"Go back and lock the door. Don't go out and wander around for the next few days!"

The men's figures quickly disappeared into the inky night.

He Daqing stood at the back door and let out a long breath.

For some reason, he felt that he had never stood so straight before.

He Yuzhu stood in the shadows of the courtyard the whole time.

Before his eyes, a line of pale blue writing silently appeared:

[Hidden achievement triggered: Offering help in times of need.]

[Gained 500 reputation points; Xidan Restaurant staff loyalty is now locked at "Die-hard Loyalist".]

……

The next day, early in the morning.

He Yuzhu strolled over to Nanluoguxiang.

As soon as I turned into the alley, I saw the entrance to No. 95 courtyard, surrounded by layers of people.

A crowd gathered around.

Yi Zhonghai.

He stood on the steps like a wooden stake, his face as blue as iron.

He was holding a few banknotes that he had just exchanged from the bank.

A few thin sheets of paper, blown by the wind, can float into the sky.

"What a terrible thing to do..."

An older woman named Li Guihua stood to the side, her sleeves almost soaked with tears.

"Old Yi, that's money we've saved up our whole lives!"

"This is the money meant for your retirement! With this change, we can't even afford a decent coffin..."

Yi Zhonghai remained silent.

He just stared at the money in his hand, as if he wanted to pierce two holes in those few pieces of paper.

He recalled Xu Fugui's smug and arrogant face from a few days ago.

He recalled Section Chief Ma's insatiable gaze.

"With the arrival of the Central Army, life will be easier..."

Yi Zhonghai kept repeating those words in his mouth, as if chewing on an unripe bitter herb.

His lifelong belief was to follow the rules and be a compliant citizen.

In the end, the person who set the rules took everything from him.

Beside him, Liu Haizhong stood with his hands behind his back, his face also looking dejected.

"Old Yi, stop looking. I heard from the factory that this is just the beginning."

"From now on, the price of this stuff will change every day. With our meager salaries, we probably won't even be able to afford cornmeal anymore."

"Those... bastards!"

Yi Zhonghai squeezed out these words through gritted teeth.

The sound wasn't loud.

But it startled Liu Haizhong, who was standing next to her.

This was the first time in all the years he had known Yi Zhonghai that he had heard him publicly criticize the government by name.

He Yuzhu stood on the periphery of the crowd.

The corner of his mouth twitched silently.

It hurts, doesn't it?

Despair.

Only by crushing your last vestiges of attachment to this old world can new seeds sprout from these ruins.

Just then.

A sudden wail erupted from the front yard.

It was Jia Zhangshi.

The commotion was as shrill as an old cat whose tail had been stepped on.