Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Green-Headed Fly Once More

Double Joy.

The technological innovation was progressing smoothly, and his wife’s official employment status had been settled. Liu Weidong felt refreshed, as if pure energy was emanating from his pores.

“What’s got you so happy, Weidong?” Master Liu asked, putting down his bowl and inviting Liu Weidong to eat while inquiring.

“It really is good news. My wife, a private school teacher, has secured her permanent position. That makes her college entrance exam even more promising,” Liu Weidong replied.

Song Yi glanced at Master Liu, and the two exchanged surprised looks.

“Weidong, you really don’t take the usual path. With your skills, you don’t take the exam yourself but let your wife do it instead. Aren’t you afraid she might run off to university?” Master Liu asked.

Liu Weidong chuckled, “Once you’ve seen the vast sea, no other water will suffice; apart from Mount Wushan, no other clouds compare. My wife has already climbed my mountain and surveyed all others as small; even if she tried to run, she wouldn’t get far.”

Song Yi pointed at Liu Weidong and laughed heartily.

Though the words were coarse, the meaning was sound. With Liu Weidong’s abilities, few could match him even in the city, let alone the countryside. He wasn’t bragging.

Seeing no work at the machinery factory, Liu Weidong rode his bike to the East Market.

Knowing his mother-in-law well, Liu Weidong suspected she might have asked him to tutor Lou Yanhua—not necessarily out of concern for Lou Yanhua, but perhaps to keep an eye on him.

Of course, if Lou Yanhua really got into university, there was a chance his mother-in-law might turn hostile. In his previous life, he had a poor impression of Song Qian, a woman with rigid ideas about marriage: household registration, status, education, job, and matching social class were her criteria for choosing a son-in-law.

Buying a house was clearly urgent. Liu Weidong locked his bike and walked along Changsha Street. Unexpectedly, not far ahead, he spotted a familiar figure.

It was Chen Hao, the green-bean fly, accompanied by a policeman in a blue uniform.

Several days had passed, yet Chen Hao’s head was still bandaged.

Liu Weidong didn’t dare approach. If Chen Hao reported him, he might end up in trouble.

From a distance of about ten meters, Liu Weidong cautiously followed Chen Hao and the policeman like an undercover agent. To his surprise, they entered a storefront—Guizhen’s Tailor Shop.

Chen Hao was here for clothes? Why would a policeman follow him for that?

Pressing close to the window ledge, Liu Weidong’s face soon twisted into a strange smile.

Inside, the policeman was asking the tailor lady about houses. Apparently, Chen Hao also wanted to buy property in the East Market.

“There’s a house for sale across the street by Old Guan’s family, but it’s private property, and the old man’s asking price is high. It’s not worth it,” Aunt Sun said candidly, clearly familiar with the policeman.

Outside, Liu Weidong’s mind raced.

Private property—that was exactly what he wanted.

“Thanks, Aunt Sun. I know Old Guan. I’ll take young Chen over there to see if we can negotiate the price down.”

Hiding in an alley, Liu Weidong watched the policeman and Chen Hao knock on a large black iron gate across the street.

He chuckled and turned to run—to the bank to withdraw money.

After withdrawing three thousand yuan, Liu Weidong went straight to Guizhen’s Tailor Shop, where the tailor helped him add a collar to his shirt.

“Auntie, are there any houses for sale nearby? Preferably private property,” Liu Weidong asked.

The aunt was momentarily surprised. “Why all this fuss about houses? Officer Xiao Zhao from the police station asked the same thing earlier. You see that black-gated building across the street? That’s the one for sale. Xiao Zhao and a young man just went in. I doubt they’ll get anywhere; Old Guan wants at least three thousand. That price’s enough to buy a new apartment. They’re just after the street frontage.”

Now Liu Weidong understood the situation. Though unclear why Chen Hao wanted a house, he couldn’t let Chen Hao take advantage of such a bargain.

After finishing with the collar, Liu Weidong went to knock on Old Guan’s door.

Soon, an elderly woman opened it. Hearing Liu Weidong was there to see the house, she quickly invited him inside.

The two large rooms were built of blue bricks, as was the warehouse. The window frames bore traditional latticework, clearly an old house.

As Liu Weidong entered, the policeman showed little reaction, but Chen Hao immediately stood.

“Liu Weidong? What are you doing here?”

Liu Weidong snorted, “If you can come, why can’t I? I’m here to see the house.”

Chen Hao laughed loudly.

“Liu Weidong, bragging in front of Lou Yanru is one thing, but you, a country bumpkin, dare to say you’re looking at houses? Can you even afford to buy one?”

“Got a problem with your mouth? Why so foul? You calling me a bumpkin? I think you just haven’t been beaten by life enough,” Liu Weidong shot back. Even with the policeman present, he wouldn’t let Chen Hao disgust him.

“Enough, both of you pipe down. Chen Hao, do you two know each other? Sounds like there’s some bad blood,” the policeman intervened.

Chen Hao scoffed and sat down. In front of strangers, he was too embarrassed to admit Liu Weidong had beaten him before.

“Old Guan, I’m here to see the house. How much are you asking?”

Old Guan sized Liu Weidong up and down.

“Young man, I want two thousand five hundred yuan for this house, and it’s non-negotiable. If you’re looking for a bargain, you can leave. I’m not worried about selling this place.”

“Two thousand five hundred? Old Guan, new apartments in the city don’t cost that much per unit. Yours is even more expensive than new buildings,” Liu Weidong said.

“This is my ancestral home. If my wife and I weren’t getting old and struggling with chores, I wouldn’t sell it at all. If you think it’s expensive, then I won’t waste time talking. Please leave,” Old Guan replied.

Before he finished, Chen Hao sneered, “Don’t you have any shame? Wearing such shabby shorts and still asking two thousand five hundred! You’re the village idiot. Do you think you’re worth that much if you’re sold?”

Then Chen Hao looked at Old Guan. “Old Guan, I’m serious. Unlike this village idiot, I’m not just inquiring because I can’t afford it. My mom is director at the central hospital, my dad works for the construction committee. If the price is right, we’ll sign and pay right away. How about one thousand seven hundred?”

Liu Weidong tired of their haggling and gestured for the elderly woman to show him the warehouse and kitchen.

“Young man, are you really from the countryside? If you can’t afford it, don’t waste your time. Didn’t you see that kid’s parents are officials? They probably have so much money they don’t know what to do with it.”

“Madam, who says rural folks can’t afford houses? If I couldn’t, why bother looking?” Liu Weidong retorted.

Suddenly, something in the kitchen caught Liu Weidong’s eye—a jar used for storing animal fat.

Its shape was sturdy and rounded, the glaze uneven, with clear chicken claw patterns and visible traces of handcrafting. The jar's mouth bore distinct yellow marks from the clay body.

It was a Ming Dynasty official kiln blue-and-white lotus-patterned jar, yet Old Guan used it to store animal fat?

“Madam, if you sell the house and move upstairs, will you leave behind all the firewood, furniture, and jars?”

The elderly woman sighed. “What else? My son’s unit gave him a two-bedroom apartment. My daughter-in-law already furnished it with a big wardrobe and chest of drawers. They use gas cylinders now, so what would I do with firewood and coal?”

Liu Weidong now understood the situation clearly and turned to enter the inner room.

Old Guan ignored Liu Weidong’s entrance and continued bargaining with Chen Hao.

“Young man, you seem serious about buying. I’ll give you a hundred less. How about two thousand four hundred? This is a century-old ancestral home. Look at these window lattices, the kang cabinet, and the Eight Immortals table—all original old furniture.”

Chen Hao laughed. “Old man, this junk’s only good for burning. Young people all use modern furniture. I’ll add a bit more—one thousand nine hundred.”

Leaning against the doorframe, Liu Weidong suddenly raised his hand.

“I offer two thousand.”