Courtyard House: Starting as an eighth-grade worker, with too many wives.

Sha Zhu stood in the crowd, watching the furniture being carried in piece by piece. He listened as Li Jianguo casually gave someone thirty yuan to buy wine and meat, and the sourness and resentment in his heart almost overwhelmed him. He couldn't help but mutter to himself.

"Hmph, so rich, able to buy so much furniture for just a few dozen yuan a piece, yet they're forcing us to pay them three hundred yuan in compensation? That's outrageous!"

He was speaking to the people around him, but no matter how low he lowered his voice, they could all hear him clearly. He was standing up for Qin Huairu, but three hundred yuan was something he would have to save for two years without eating or drinking, and to lose it all like that was painful to even think about.

Uncle Liu Zhonghai sat by the window, watching the figures coming and going from Li Jianguo's house. The smile on his face had long since vanished. He stroked his smooth chin, a hint of worry in his eyes. This Li Jianguo was indeed wealthy. Wealth meant he was difficult to control. Difficult to control meant that Uncle Liu's position was truly in jeopardy.

Zhao Erlu was indeed efficient. He had lived in this area since he was a child, and he knew exactly which shops had good stuff and which had the best selection. By the time Li Jianguo and the others had finished cleaning the house, he had already ridden his tricycle home, fully loaded with goods.

"Master Li, the goods are back! Please check if there's anything missing. If so, I'll go get more!"

He certainly knew how to shop. Knowing Li Jianguo wasn't short of money, he bought only the best and most complete items. Rice, oil, salt, scallions, ginger, garlic, soy sauce, vinegar—he bought everything. He even provided things Li Jianguo hadn't considered, like a coal stove, coal, a kettle, and a thermos.

Li Jianguo flipped through it and nodded in satisfaction.

"Great, we have everything we need. You've worked hard."

Now it's his time to show his skills.

Zhao Erlu and the others wanted to come over and help, but Li Jianguo stopped them. He told them to sit and rest inside for a while, have some soda, and then he got busy at the makeshift stove by himself.

Since he planned to stay here long-term, he also wanted to take this opportunity to get to know the vibrant, genuine young people outside the compound. As for those "beasts" inside, forget about them. He didn't want to be the one to be taken advantage of and raise a bunch of ungrateful wretches.

The oil in the wok was heated, then scallions, ginger, and garlic were added and sautéed until fragrant. Li Jianguo's movements were fluid and skillful, his knife work was superb, and his wok-tossing was expert. He wasn't making any complicated dishes, just a few very common ones: stir-fried pork, crispy pork, Mapo tofu, and scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

But with the support of a master chef, even the most ordinary dish can be transformed into something magical in his hands.

As soon as the pot lid was lifted, the rich, overpowering aroma of meat, mixed with the spiciness of chili peppers and Sichuan peppercorns, seemed to have grown legs, instantly filling the entire backyard and quickly spreading to the middle and front yards.

In those days, every household was short of oil and fat. Eating meat once or twice a month was considered a sign of a comfortable life. Normally, who would dare to use even a drop more oil than necessary when cooking? They would just dip their chopsticks into the oil bottle, then swirl it around in the pan—that was enough.

Now, the irresistible aroma of meat rampages through the entire courtyard, filling everyone's noses.

The children were the first to be unable to resist. Several kids playing in the yard, smelling the aroma, started drooling and tugging at their parents' clothes, crying and fussing. The adults weren't much better off; they were all uncontrollably swallowing their saliva, their stomachs churning with cravings.

Zhao Erlu stood by the stove, his eyes fixed on the bubbling meat slices in the pot, his saliva almost dripping onto the ground. He slurped his saliva while simultaneously blowing on the meat in a frenzy.

"Master Li, your skills... are absolutely amazing! You're even better than the head chef at the state-run restaurant! That head chef always brags that his ancestors were imperial chefs, but compared to you, he's nothing!"

Watching Li Jianguo spoon-feed meat into the pot, he felt a pang of heartache and instinctively said, "Master Li, there are only a few of us, do we really need to cook so much meat? You can save it for yourself!"

Li Jianguo continued working with his hands, laughing without turning his head, "It's alright, this little bit of meat won't bankrupt me, don't worry."

That being said, he knew in his heart that this was, after all, the era of a planned economy, where everything was rationed. Although he was wealthy, he couldn't squander money like people do in modern times. So he prepared each dish with just the right amount of care, preserving its flavor without being wasteful.

Even so, the food he cooked was so delicious that these young people wanted to swallow their tongues.

"Alright, stop standing there, move the table, let's eat!"

Zhao Erlu and his group, who had been waiting anxiously, sprang to their feet as if a switch had been flipped upon hearing this, their movements incredibly nimble. Some moved tables, some set out chairs, and others fetched bowls and chopsticks, their teamwork impeccable.

Several steaming dishes were served, their colors enticing and their aromas irresistible. A group of people sat around, watching Li Jianguo intently, swallowing hard, but no one dared to touch their chopsticks.

"Why are you all staring at me?" Li Jianguo picked up his chopsticks. "Eat up, it won't taste good when it gets cold. Remember, no waste!"

"Why!"

The young men responded in unison and then picked up their chopsticks. After all, it was their first time visiting someone's home, and they were eating such expensive meat dishes. Although they were extremely tempted, they all maintained a proper demeanor and ate in a relatively refined manner, not daring to wolf down their food.

But the aroma of meat was like a pervasive poison, tormenting the families in the courtyard.

Especially the Jia family, who lived closest to them.

The Jia family was also having dinner. On the table was a bowl of cornmeal porridge so thin you could see your reflection in it, a plate of dark, salty vegetables, and several hard, dry cornbread buns.

Banggeng sat at the table, holding a cornbread bun in his hand, but didn't eat a single bite. His eyes were fixed on the scenery outside the window, his little nose twitching as he greedily savored the aroma in the air that drove him crazy.

"Grandma!" he suddenly slammed the cornbread he was holding onto the table and howled at the top of his lungs, "I want meat! I don't want this! I want meat!"

"Alright, alright, eat, eat..." Madam Jia was annoyed by her grandson's antics, but she couldn't bear to scold him, so she could only coax him perfunctorily. She herself was also craving food, swallowed hard, and couldn't help but mutter to herself.

"That Li Jianguo, he's got money to burn! So much meat, feeding it to those little punks like Zhao Erlu, doesn't he care about wasting it?"