Chapter Seventy-Three: Xiaoyu's Godparents

“Hey! Old Lu, what are you up to?” Chen Liang stepped forward to block his path.

“Why are you leaving so late today?” Damn, what’s going on? The one who’s usually the most eager to clock out is actually dragging his feet now.

“Look at you, walking as if you’re treading on landmines, glancing around nervously with every step. What’s going on?”

“What else could it be! I’m on guard against you, you little rascal!” Since Chen Liang had already spotted him, Old Lu didn’t bother to hide it anymore.

“Oh! Got your hands on something good again?” Chen Liang’s face lit up with excitement. Ever since he’d gotten that fragrant sandalwood from Old Lu, he’d managed to pick up quite a few treasures from him.

Old Lu was a collector of antiques. Aside from his beloved books, everything else lost its charm for him after he’d played with it for a few days, savoring the passage of time through his hands. Scholars and literati were like this—they loved their books above all else; books were their second wives, after all.

The world of antiques is not for everyone. Only those who truly love it and can settle down with a book can withstand the solitude. Chen Liang definitely didn’t have the patience; the moment he opened books full of archaic prose, his head would spin and he’d want to sleep.

It worked out just fine—Old Lu’s antiques, left to gather dust in storage, all ended up being sold to Chen Liang in one go.

“Kid, I can’t sell this one to you yet. Let me get bored with it first!” Old Lu hugged his briefcase tightly, seeing how Chen Liang’s eyes sparkled.

“Hey, old man, do you really think I’m that type? Go ahead and enjoy it. Just remember to sell it to me when you’re done!”

Seeing Old Lu had lost interest in introducing his latest find, Chen Liang shrugged and lost interest as well. “Let’s go, time to clock out. Look at the time, we’re already running late!”

“Xiaoyu, look at your man’s sneaky ways, just like a sly dog! You really need to keep him in check!”

Old Lu had no children of his own, but the moment he laid eyes on Xiaoyu, he felt a special kinship. After discussing it with his wife, Grandma Sun, the two of them decided to make Xiaoyu their honorary granddaughter.

Chen Liang had been there when they made it official. At first, he suspected Old Lu might have some ulterior motive, but after meeting Grandma Sun, he was at ease. She, too, was from the western frontier. Though time had left its marks on her, it was still clear that she had once been a true beauty of the region. Perhaps Old Lu’s affection for Xiaoyu was simply an extension of his love for his wife.

“Grandpa, please go home now. It’s getting dark, and it’s not safe to ride at night!”

The adoptive grandfather and the real husband could never meet without a few jabs, which left Xiaoyu quite helpless—both sides were dear to her, so she could only try to smooth things over.

When Chen Liang gave Xiaoyu a ride home, dinner was already ready and the family was just waiting for them.

After washing up, they sat at the table. “We were delayed a bit on the way, Mom. Let’s eat!”

After dinner, Chen Liang made himself a cup of goji berry tea. He took a sip and sighed inwardly.

Damn, when did it come to this? Drinking goji berries already. But glancing at the beautiful and lively Xiaoyu beside him, Chen Liang decided he’d better drink more—though he did think he’d started a bit late in life.

Dreaming of living it up in a massage parlor thirty years from now? Forget it—just wash up and go to bed early. Who knows, maybe…

Xiaoyu, having already awakened her slothful side, had no idea what was going through Chen Liang’s mind. The two of them were holding hands, playing their little game—she’d tickle his palm, he’d scratch her fingers—a game reserved for times when there were lots of people around. The newlyweds were so attached that they hated even a moment apart.

After finishing his tea, Chen Liang saw it was getting late and decided it was time to head to bed.

Watching as Xiaoyu, without waiting for any hint, picked up the basin and went to the outer room, Chen Liang experienced a unique sense of anxiety and dread that only middle-aged men know.

But the moment Xiaoyu changed into that alluring Republic-era outfit, all those fears turned out to be nothing but paper tigers. Just a little Xiaoyu, he thought—watch me ride into battle and conquer her!

That night, the northwestern wind howled, noisy and tinged with a certain desolation.

Lying in bed, holding his wife in his arms, Chen Liang stared at the ceiling in the darkness, somewhat lost in thought.

The realization that he’d come so close to being outmaneuvered by Xiaoyu sent a shiver down his spine. The consequences would have been dire.

With his mind wandering, Chen Liang figured it was about time, so he put Xiaoyu into the supermarket.

He slipped out of the compound in the dark, silent as a shadow, and spotted a figure by the streetlight. Chen Liang walked over and gave Cao Da Wu a pat.

Neither of them said a word. Da Wu handed his bicycle over to Chen Liang, then swung himself onto the back seat. Chen Liang straddled the bike, pushed off, and they sped away.

Upon reaching Chongde Gate, Chen Liang had Da Wu get off and wait for him. He continued on, turned a corner, and stowed the bicycle away in his supermarket.

Stepping out from the darkness, he took the mask from Cao Da Wu and handed him a decorated pistol, reminding him, “The safety’s still on. If they try anything funny, don’t hesitate—fire right away. Make sure you stay safe!”

Holding a gun for the first time, Cao Da Wu was visibly excited. “Don’t worry, Brother Liang. We know what to do!”

Once they had their masks on, “Alright, let’s go!”

This time, because of Chen Liang’s special attention, the other side had brought out all they had for the deal—the stakes were high, and Chen Liang had to be cautious.

They entered the abandoned factory as agreed. On the other side, shadowy figures crowded the darkness—it seemed they were nervous too, bringing quite a few people.

As usual, Cao Da Wu stepped forward to count the money, but this time Chen Liang stayed close—there was a lot of cash, and the tension made Da Wu count it twice just to be sure.

Once he’d confirmed the amount, Chen Liang withdrew, checked the surroundings, and, seeing no one around, released dozens of baskets of rice and flour.

These bamboo baskets had been bought in the northeast, where he’d spent two hundred yuan to clear out a whole village’s stock—so he had plenty.

This time, the other side bought ten thousand jin of rice and five thousand jin of flour. If not for the supermarket’s power to control things by thought, Chen Liang couldn’t have moved it all in a lifetime.

He shone his flashlight toward the sky in three quick circles. Before long, Cao Da Wu brought the others over.

A single bamboo basket could hold five hundred jin, so thirty full baskets of rice and flour, placed together, was an impressive sight.

Once the other side had checked everything, their leader gave the signal that the deal was done.

But Chen Liang didn’t leave right away. Instead, he turned to the masked man leading the other group and said, “Brother, mind if we have a word?”

The masked man looked puzzled, but since Chen Liang was the big spender, he agreed—it wouldn’t hurt to talk for a bit.