Chapter Seventy-Two: The Sly Old Man Lu

After finishing his application to join the Party, Chen Liang was promptly kicked out the door by his uncle. Damn, the old man was truly the master of burning bridges after crossing them.

After leaving the main building, he barely managed to pour himself a cup of tea in the security office before Little Liu showed up, bringing Cao Fifth along.

“Brother Liang!” both greeted in unison. Chen Liang turned and smiled, “Fifth, you’re here? Sit down and have some tea first.”

After that, Chen Liang pulled a pack of Red Pagoda Hill cigarettes from his pocket and tossed it to Little Liu. “Liu, if there’s nothing else, you can head back first. I’ve got something to discuss with your Fifth Brother.”

“Alright! You two talk, I’ll be off!” Delighted, Little Liu caught the cigarettes and left.

Once Little Liu was gone and the office was empty, Cao Fifth lowered his voice. “Brother Liang, I’ve checked. Of the fifteen shops we used to supply, only two have absolutely no sand or stones mixed in. The others all have some, more or less.”

“Are you sure?” Chen Liang had always known that business is rarely clean, but the proportion still surprised him—it was so blatant!

“It’s true, Brother Liang. I went to each shop myself and bought samples. Only two sold me grain that didn’t have the slightest bit of sand or stone.”

The grain Chen Liang had supplied them with was all sourced from supermarkets, and in this era, that meant premium goods without a trace of impurity.

With other grades, finding some sand, soil, or bits of husk in the rice or flour was completely normal.

Chen Liang’s supermarket had a whole floor dedicated just to rice and flour. When he distributed the goods around the city, his aim was to find a few honest downstream customers to sell on his behalf.

Yet out of over a dozen, only two refrained from shady practices. This completely redefined Chen Liang’s understanding of unscrupulous small traders.

“Alright, Fifth. Get in touch with those two tonight and arrange to meet them. I’ll go with you.”

“Got it, Brother Liang. Should I prepare anything?”

“I’ve got it covered. Don’t worry about a thing.”

After their conversation, Cao Fifth left, making sure to snag the pack of Red Pagoda Hill that Chen Liang had left on the table.

Time slipped by, and before long it was noon. Chen Liang, unwilling to stomach another meal from the factory canteen—food so bad even pigs would turn up their noses—hopped on his bike and headed to the library to have lunch with Xiaoyu.

When he went to get food at the cafeteria, he was surprised to spot Shazhu working in the kitchen.

“Shazhu, weren’t you supposed to get your marriage certificate today? What are you doing here instead?” Chen Liang handed his lunchbox through the window.

“Hey, who said I didn’t go?” Shazhu tossed aside his ladle and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket with a flourish. He waved it in front of Chen Liang, his joy unmistakable. “See this? Marriage certificate! And with Liu Siyuan, no less! Jealous?”

“Heh! Let me tell you a secret, Shazhu—I’ve got one too. With Xiaoyu!” Chen Liang, ever the troublemaker, couldn’t resist taking Shazhu down a peg. One “heh” was all it took to nearly get under Shazhu’s skin.

“Damn it, why do I even talk to you? You’re just as much of a nuisance as I am!” Shazhu tucked away his certificate, then asked, “What do you want to eat? Hurry up and tell me.”

“You decide. Whatever you think is best.”

Shazhu, for all his chatter, never cut corners when it came to food. “How about some tiger-skin peppers? The meat inside is especially tender today.”

When Chen Liang took the lunchbox, he moved aside so as not to block the line. “Wait, Shazhu, if you’ve got your certificate, why are you still working today? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your wife?”

At that, Shazhu’s temper flared, and he stopped serving food. “Don’t get me started. Ran into Xu Damao this morning, traded a few barbs—and that bastard almost ruined everything for me…”

Shazhu grumbled on, and not a single complaint was heard from the man waiting in line. He knew better—today, if he so much as muttered a word, he’d be lucky to see a scrap of meat in his meals for the next three or four days. He simply waited patiently.

Shazhu had become the undisputed king of the library kitchen; no one dared cross him.

“You asked for it, always poking the bear with Xu Damao. If Liu Siyuan really took it to heart, you’d be in tears,” Chen Liang quipped, hoisting his lunchbox and heading out.

“Hey! Not only do you refuse to comfort me, you actually twist the knife! Next time, you’re eating vegetarian for a week!” Shazhu shouted after him, then turned to the next in line. “Sorry for the wait, comrade. What’ll it be?”

“Master He, I’ll have some greens and a portion of sweet and sour pork, please.”

“Coming right up—sweet and sour pork, yes?” Shazhu heaped a generous spoonful of meat into the lunchbox, handed it over without so much as glancing at the grateful look he received. “Next!”

You had to admit, after so many years under the tutelage of the old deaf woman, Shazhu had really learned a thing or two—he’d mastered the art of the carrot and the stick.

After ribbing Shazhu, Chen Liang carried his lunch back to Xiaoyu’s office.

Shazhu deserved it. Liu Siyuan’s heart just wasn’t set on him, otherwise, if any other girl heard what Xu Damao had said, she’d definitely get ideas—before the certificate was even in hand, neighbors were already gossiping; what hope would there be after marriage?

Aside from the chaise longue, Xiaoyu’s office only had one proper chair, so when they ate together, Xiaoyu always sat on Chen Liang’s lap.

During their meal, Chen Liang showered Xiaoyu with affection: feeding one another, stealing kisses, and generally making enough of a spectacle to put any office pet to shame—good thing dogs weren’t allowed, or they’d burst from envy.

Afterwards, it was routine for Chen Liang to slip his hand under Xiaoyu’s clothes. Once he’d had his fill flirting with the fruit-selling girl, he stretched out on the sofa with his wife for an afternoon nap.

Thanks to the ultimate weapon—the bikini—Chen Liang slept straight through until the end of the workday.

Xiaoyu had woken much earlier, already finished tallying the data. Not wanting to disturb his peaceful sleep, she sat beside him reading, waiting patiently for her most beloved man to awaken.

When he finally stirred, Xiaoyu snuggled up to him. Chen Liang kissed her on the lips, then poured some hot water into the basin, dampened a towel, and wiped his face to clear his head.

Soothing your girlfriend was simple—kiss her whenever you have the chance, and she’ll only become more attached.

Of course, that advice doesn’t apply to gold-diggers or man-eating women; those types are only satisfied with material things.

Hand in hand, Chen Liang and Xiaoyu were about to head home when, stepping out of the office, they spotted Old Lu skulking about, furtive as a thief.