Chen Guihua leaned against the window of Shazhu's house, her ears perked, and was left with a buzzing in her head from the words that exploded from inside: "That goddamn Yi Zhonghai!" The fury carried the weight of a blood feud; even through the window, it slammed into her ears like a roll of thunder.
"Evidence! The Post Office!" Following immediately after, Su Changshun's calm but equally clear declaration, "We'll go check first thing tomorrow morning," drove into her marrow like an ice pick.
He Daqing's money!
Proxy collection!
Post office records!
These terms were like countless needles, instantly piercing every nerve in Chen Guihua's body.
Her face turned ashen in a flash, her hands and feet ice-cold, the chill rising straight from the marrow of her bones.
Only one thought screamed frantically in her mind: It's over! The cat's out of the bag! Where on earth did this brat Su Changshun come from? How does he even know about this?
A massive terror seized her. She staggered, practically scrambling on all fours as she fled back to her own house, slammed the door behind her, and jammed the wooden door bolt firmly into place. She pressed her back heavily against the cold wooden door panel, panting heavily, her chest rising and falling violently.
The dim light inside the room reflected her bloodless face.
Seized with burning anxiety, she stood up and paced back and forth in the modest main room, her fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her tunic, her gaze unfocused and terrified.
"He Daqing... the money... the matter of sending money..." she muttered under her breath, every word trembling, "Old Yi... back then he wouldn't listen to advice... I said long ago we couldn't just pocket it like this... at least leave something for Zhuzi and Yushui..."
When Yi Zhonghai had made the executive decision to pull this off back then, his high-sounding justification—"The kids are too little and will just waste the money; it's better for me to hold onto it, it'll be more useful in the future"—now, recalled in the present, left behind only endless regret and panic.
"The post office stubs... in black and white... if Shazhu and Su Changshun really manage to trace this down..." Chen Guihua didn't dare think any further.
The consequence made her shudder with dread—appropriating someone else's living expenses, a substantial sum, and for a duration of four whole years! If this blew up, it wouldn't just be a matter of the courtyard residents pointing fingers at Yi Zhonghai's spine! His title as an advanced factory worker would be smashed to pieces, his worker's blue jacket would be swapped for a prison uniform, and she herself would be branded as a criminal's family member, unable to hold her head up anywhere in Sijiu City. If Old Yi went inside, what would become of her, Chen Guihua?
"Old Yi... why isn't Old Yi back yet?" She rushed to the window, peering anxiously outside.
Dusk had already fallen, and the various homes in the Quadrangle Courtyard had lit their dim yellow lamps. The aroma of dinner smoke drifted through the air, yet Yi Zhonghai's figure was nowhere to be seen.
Every single minute and second felt like sizzling in a wok of boiling oil.
*Screeech*—the sound of the front door finally being pushed open sounded to Chen Guihua like divine music.
Yi Zhonghai walked into the house dragging slightly exhausted steps, carrying that old canvas tool bag in his hand.
The moment he crossed the threshold of the ornate ceremonial gate, Chen Guihua sprang forward from the edge of the *kang* like an arrow loosed from a bow, and grabbed his arm in a death grip!
"Oh, Old Yi! You're finally back!" Chen Guihua's voice carried a sob, brimming with unprecedented panic, her eyes slightly red and swollen from anxiety and terror, "Quick, quick, quick! Get inside! Close the door!"
She half-dragged, half-pulled the still-dazed Yi Zhonghai into the room and threw the door bolt shut behind him.
Frowning, Yi Zhonghai looked at his wife's unprecedented, out-of-wits appearance, and his heart sank. An ominous preordained feeling instantly enveloped him: "What is this about? You're all flustered like you've seen a ghost! What happened at home? Is it Dongxu or Huairu..." He assumed some accident had befell the Jia Family.
"What could possibly happen to the Jia Family? The sky has fallen! The sky has fallen, Old Yi!" Chen Guihua lowered her voice, but it was so hoarse and sharp it sounded like fingernails scraping across a blackboard, filled with despair.
"Su Changshun! That brat Su Changshun! He... he snuck into Zhuzi's room this evening! He stayed in there for ages!"
Chen Guihua took a hurried breath, terrified she wouldn't make herself clear, and spoke at a breakneck pace: "I heard Zhuzi start roaring! Cursing to high heaven, cursing you... cursing your ancestors back eight generations! I pressed right against the root of the window and even heard... heard Su Changshun telling Zhuzi, telling him... telling him about He Daqing! That he sends living expenses from Baoding every month! Saying the money! This money..."
She swallowed nervously, watching her husband's drastically changing complexion with terror, "Saying you secretly pocketed all this money yourself! Zhuzi blew his top right on the spot, and that brat Su Changshun even egged him on, telling him... telling him to ask for time off first thing tomorrow morning and go straight to the post office to dig through the stubs! Check the remittance slips! To verify it in black and white!"
When Chen Guihua finished speaking in one breath, it was as if all her strength had been drained. Her body swayed, and she only avoided collapsing by leaning against the table, her eyes locked onto Yi Zhonghai, filled with terror and helplessness: "Old Yi! Those... those post office stubs, do they... do they all have you listed as picking them up? If they manage to dig this up... with hard evidence right there in front of them... this... this means you've broken state law! You're... you're going to jail! Old Yi! What... what are we going to do?!"
By the end, Chen Guihua's voice was an irrepressible whimper.
Yi Zhonghai stood rigidly in the middle of the room, as if instantly petrified. His tool bag dropped to the floor with a *thud*, kicking up a small puff of dust.
The atmosphere inside the room instantly congealed into a block of freezing ice weighing a thousand catties.
Under the dim light, Yi Zhonghai's face was revealed to have instantly drained of all blood, turning deathly pale and ashen.
His eyes, which were always calculating and accustomed to faking fairness, were now wide open, his pupils contracting violently from extreme shock and terror!
Post office! Proxy collection! Stubs! Su Changshun!
These few words were like countless red-hot branding irons fiercely searing his heart.
His aged face turned from dead white to iron-blue bit by bit, the veins at his temples throbbing violently as if they might burst at any second! It was over! This time, it was completely, utterly over!
The secret he had meticulously guarded for four years, believing it to be airtight, had been kicked wide open by this brat Su Changshun who had dropped out of nowhere!
And Su Changshun had even handed the knife straight to that single-minded brute of a Shazhu!
From Yi Zhonghai's throat came a microscopic, rattling sound, like a dying person struggling for breath.
One hand steadied itself against the cold tabletop while the other clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning white and misshapen from excessive force.
"Su... Su... Chang... shun...!" He clenched his teeth shut, squeezing the three characters out from between them, laden with bone-deep hatred and an unprecedented despair of standing at the edge of an abyss.
Was this any ordinary greenhorn? This was clearly a grim reaper coming for his life!
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The Yi family's dinner tasted like sawdust. Chen Guihua haphazardly shoveled down a few bites of cornmeal porridge, her eyes wandering as her chopsticks poked at the shredded salted vegetables, unable to swallow a single mouthful.
Yi Zhonghai was even more out of his mind. A half-eaten corn bread bun sat clutched in his hand, hard as a rock, and it took him ages to take a single bite. The atmosphere at the table was as heavy as if it had been poured with lead.
Late into the night, Chen Guihua leaned against the edge of the *kang*, her body strung as tight as a bowstring, her ears cocked to catch any slightest abnormal sound outside the window.
Yi Zhonghai sat by the eight-immortals table, his fingers tapping unconsciously against the surface. His gaze was deep, like two bottomless ancient wells. After the initial panic subsided, a near-frantic desire for self-preservation burned in the depths of his eyes.
He, Yi Zhonghai, hadn't lost yet—there was still time until tomorrow morning! Drag Shazhu to the post office to check? Wouldn't it be fine if he couldn't make it there?
How could he not make it there? Wouldn't an "accident" on the road do the trick?
Vicious thoughts spun rapidly through Yi Zhonghai's mind: Break a leg? Yes, break Su Changshun's leg! As long as he couldn't crawl out of bed and was lying there groaning, would Shazhu go to the post office by himself tomorrow? That silly boy probably didn't even know which direction the post office front door faced! Even if he went, without Su Changshun around to fan the flames and stir the pot, he, Yi Zhonghai, had a hundred high-sounding pretexts of his own to win back that spineless fool of a Shazhu with sweet-talk!
The difficult part, though, was... time! First thing tomorrow morning? The morning streets would be packed with people rushing off to work, right out in the open—how could he make a move? There was simply no opportunity to strike! His brows knitted into a tight knot, the frequency of his fingers tapping against the table growing faster and faster.
Tomorrow morning wouldn't work... that meant... tonight! Taking advantage of the dead of night to get it done!
Making too big of a commotion in the courtyard wouldn't do; if the residents were all woken up, he, Yi Zhonghai, would be the very first one they suspected.
The person doing the deed... had to be slick, completely silent, and preferably strike with a single blow, leaving the target no time even to cry for help! Moreover, under no circumstances could this matter be linked to him, Yi Zhonghai, by even the slightest thread!
After it was done, he even needed to appear at the appropriate moment, showing concern, enthusiastically organizing the trip to the hospital, and helping catch the ruffians.
Only by doing this could he live up to his glorious persona as a First Uncle who upheld justice and cared for his neighbors, and only then would he fail to arouse the slightest suspicion from the Public Security Bureau.
Break the leg of that mad dog Su Changshun who went around biting people indiscriminately, and pin him down temporarily.
Without this gossiping, shit-stirring stick, things would be much easier to handle on Shazhu's end. A cruel, sharp glint flashed in Yi Zhonghai's eyes.
He had plenty of ways to make Shazhu understand him! Shazhu was just a donkey that needed to be stroked in the right direction, and what's more... that written authorization and proxy collection agreement signed by He Daqing was lying right inside the little iron box where he kept his treasures!
He hadn't wanted to pull out this piece of paper; after all, it would weaken his image of treating Shazhu like his own flesh and blood.
But right now, it was his life-saving talisman! It proved that Yi Zhonghai hadn't stolen the money, but had been keeping it on someone else's behalf in broad daylight!
At worst, his methods had been a bit lacking in tact, and his attitude had lacked transparency, but this was just a neighborhood dispute! If the aggrieved party didn't pursue charges, could the police station really haul a senior technician of high moral standing and the First Uncle of the courtyard off to court for sentencing? At the absolute most, it would just be criticism and education.
In the early days of liberation, Yi Zhonghai had mentally weighed this handling model for internal conflicts countless times over.
He wasn't afraid of Shazhu making a fuss; what he feared was Shazhu being incited by outsiders to lose all sense of familial ties and determined to drive him to total ruin! As long as he pinned Su Changshun down, everything still had room for maneuver.
The crux of the matter was Su Changshun; this shit-stirring stick had to be uprooted.
At this thought, the last trace of hesitation vanished from Yi Zhonghai's eyes, leaving only a desperate, do-or-die ruthlessness.
Before Liberation, he had spent years mingling among all walks of life in Sijiu City. While his own hands might not have been directly stained with blood, he still knew a few shady avenues.
When fighting for your life, how could you still care about such things?
Money! As long as he was willing to pay, heavy rewards would bring out brave men!
Time slipped bit by bit toward the dead of night. The lamps in every household in the courtyard had long since gone out, and the entire Quadrangle Courtyard had plunged into deep slumber; only the barking of dogs in the distance and the occasional sound of the night watchman's wooden clapper punctuated the deathly stillness.
"You... stay inside, bolt the door, and don't open it if anyone knocks." Yi Zhonghai finally stood up, his voice low and hoarse, exuding an unquestionable chill.
He took off his outer garment, changed into a dark, unmarked old outfit, his face expressionless.
Chen Guihua shivered with fright, grabbing his arm fiercely, her voice shaking beyond recognition: "Old Yi... are you... are you really going out? Will... will this actually work? It's too dangerous! What if someone sees you..."
"Shut up!" Yi Zhonghai let out a low roar, shaking off her hand, his gaze sweeping across her terrified face like a knife blade, "If you don't want me to die, stay put! If you want to stay alive, listen to me!"
Ignoring Chen Guihua any further, he walked over to the corner, pried up two movable bricks, and groped around in the cavity underneath for a small cloth bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. He hefted its weight—inside were nearly all the hard currencies he had secretly saved over the years, feeling heavy and pressing down just as heavily upon his heart.
He covered most of his face with a pitch-black cloth rag, leaving only a pair of eyes flashing with devoid of warmth in the darkness.
Treading lightly, he pulled open the door and slipped out of the house as soundlessly as a poisonous snake melting into the shadows.
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The biting cold of an early spring night penetrated to the bone. Hunching his shoulders, Yi Zhonghai hugged the base of the wall, pressing himself tightly into the shadows of the houses as he moved swiftly forward.
He gently slid back the bolt of the main courtyard gate, pulling it shut behind him—the door had to be left ready for his return.
He didn't dare take the main roads, weaving exclusively through narrow alleyways. His heart pounded like a war drum, and every footstep broke him out in a cold sweat, but he forced himself to stay calm. His mind was filled only with that dilapidated, almost collapsing little courtyard tucked deep in the dead-end alley behind the abandoned City God Temple.
Before Liberation, he had gone there to attend a gambling den banquet and had overheard two lookouts boasting to each other in a corner.
One of them had mentioned that a ruthless figure lived in that dead-end alley, someone who used to specialize in taking people's money to eliminate their troubles. Though one of his legs was lame, his methods remained vicious and efficient, and people nicknamed him Limping Liu.
Yi Zhonghai had taken mental note of it back then, burying that name and address in the deepest, darkest corner of his heart.
He never expected that one day, it would become his only straw to clutch at for survival!
Treading a winding path that avoided several patrols of the Joint Defense Team, Yi Zhonghai finally crept into that dead-end alley.
He looked at the dilapidated wooden door that looked ready to fall apart at any second; there wasn't even a lamp hanging at the entrance, leaving it pitch black.
Yi Zhonghai stopped at the threshold, took a deep breath, and without further hesitation, stepped forward and struck the rotted wooden door with his knuckles.
*Thud... thud-thud...* The sound was exceptionally clear in the dead silence of the night, and exceptionally chilling.