Chapter Seventy-Four: A Grand Television Series

Chen Liang led the burly man aside so as not to interfere with the others moving goods.

"Brother, I'm not going to ask who you are. I suppose you know about my last full-city supply run."

"I supplied more than a dozen shops, but right now I’m only choosing yours. Do you know why?" Chen Liang deliberately lowered his voice, making it sound rougher.

Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "Because you play by the rules. Out of all those shops, only you and one other didn’t adulterate the grain. That’s something we’re very satisfied with."

Then Chen Liang patted his shoulder. "We like people who stick to the rules. As long as you keep it that way, you’ll keep having this rice bowl!"

After saying this, Chen Liang pulled a short pistol from his sleeve, flashed it for a moment, then left with Cao Dafu.

Quietly as they came, they left without drawing any attention from the others.

While Chen Liang spoke, he’d switched to the cold, ruthless tone he used during his undercover days. Just those few words had left the burly man sweating cold all over.

"Boss, what’s wrong?" The others moving grain noticed his odd behavior and hurried over.

Thinking of Chen Liang’s cold, merciless eyes—looking at him as if he were a lamb to the slaughter—the man took a deep breath. "It’s nothing. But this time, brothers, we’re about to strike it rich. If this business goes well, it’ll be ours alone in the future."

"Boss, with such a good thing, why don’t they do it themselves? With this top-grade grain, who could compete with them?"

"If you’re asking me, who should I ask? We’re making money, that’s what matters. Why bother with all the questions? Just move the stuff!" The boss was caught off guard by the question, then grew annoyed and ordered his men back to work.

A similar scene was playing out on the other side of the city.

Back at the courtyard house, Chen Liang, as before, counted out fifty large black ten-yuan notes and handed them to Cao Dafu.

"Brother Liang, I just made my dad’s yearly salary in a single night?" Cao Dafu, clutching the money, felt as if the world wasn’t real. Since when was money this easy to make?

"Just keep it safe and don’t overthink it. We’re taking risks here. If we get caught, we’ll be charged with profiteering, no doubt about it. Might even end up with a bullet for our trouble!"

Before they parted, Chen Liang gave another reminder, "Dafu, everyone knows your family’s situation. If you come into money, you must keep a low profile, understand?"

"Don’t worry, Brother Liang, I know what I’m doing!" Cao Dafu was always steady in his work, which reassured Chen Liang. Still, he was afraid sudden wealth might go to Dafu’s head and make him act like a nouveau riche, so he made sure to remind him every time money was handed over.

"As long as you’re careful. When the factory starts hiring in the spring, I’ll try to get you in. After that, you can do as you please!"

Chen Liang’s circumstances were different from Cao Dafu’s. The Chen family’s finances were well known. Chen Liang was known for being generous with money, and as long as he didn’t say where it came from, the neighbors would fill in the blanks themselves.

After all, Chen Liang was the youngest in his family. It was normal for parents to favor him a bit. Whether they secretly gave him money, who could say?

With Chen Dashan’s monthly salary of ninety-nine yuan—astronomical in an era when pork cost just seventy cents a pound—plus his mother’s income, it was only natural for the old couple to help their son.

And Chen Liang’s fiancée was also employed. As long as he didn’t do anything foolish, like flaunt thousands at once, no one would suspect how deep the Chen family’s pockets ran.

As for the crime of unexplained wealth? Don’t be ridiculous. That didn’t even exist yet—it would only come about in the information age. Now? Ha! Even bank deposits were handwritten. If someone could trace your money, you might as well go live on Mars; Earth’s too dangerous for you.

After settling comfortably in bed, Chen Liang carefully released Xiaoyu from the supermarket.

With her head resting on his arm, Xiaoyu sniffed the scent of her man, grunted softly like a little pig, and burrowed into his embrace, quickly falling asleep again.

Chen Liang slept another couple of hours before waking up. He tried to move quietly, but still woke Xiaoyu.

Damn it, a real man doesn’t boast of his past glory. Back when they’d first married, he could let Xiaoyu sleep through the morning without waking her.

"Brother, why are you up so early?" Xiaoyu rubbed her sleepy, cat-like eyes.

Dressed, Chen Liang sat on the bed and stroked her head. "It’s still early. You sleep a bit more. I’m going to the pigeon market to see if there’s any honey or something. If there is, I’ll buy some back."

The last time he bought honey, the Chen women had all praised it, especially his mother. After a few days of honey water, she felt her skin had grown smoother, and now she insisted on a cup morning and night.

"Then come back early, okay?" Xiaoyu clung to him affectionately.

"Alright, alright, my little housekeeper. For breakfast, do you want mung bean soup or small wontons?" He kissed her on the forehead before leaving.

Xiaoyu couldn’t sleep anymore, her mind wandering. The sky was still dark—what if her brother fell? Would he get hurt? What if he died from the fall?

Her concern made her imagine, in just a few moments, an epic TV drama series of ten thousand and eighty-six episodes about Chen Liang’s tragic demise.

Fortunately, Chen Liang didn’t know this, or he’d surely grab his bamboo stick and give her a good scolding…

In the pre-dawn dark, Chen Liang made his way to the pigeon market and immediately spotted Dagouzi, the ticket scalper he’d seen before.

He walked up and patted Dagouzi. "Hey, remember me?"

Dagouzi jumped at the sound of the familiar voice and turned around quickly. "Brother, you’re here!"

"Yeah, I’m here. How’s the ticket collection going?" Chen Liang handed him a cigarette and lit one for himself.

Dagouzi, reluctant to smoke it, tucked the cigarette behind his ear. "Wait here, brother. I’ll get them for you now."

He opened his army coat and pulled a wad of tickets from an inside vest.

Chen Liang had Dagouzi hold a flashlight while he picked through them.

The haul was quite good—Dagouzi had collected twenty-three Maotai tickets, plus a handful of rare ones. Chen Liang spent nearly twelve large black ten-yuan notes.

"Not bad. Here’s the deal: I’ll pay you an extra dime for each Maotai ticket next time. Bring me more," Chen Liang said, handing Dagouzi another two yuan and thirty cents.