Chapter 15: A Direct Confrontation…

He could think about what he might have overlooked later—right now, today’s task with Master Lei still wasn’t done. That had to come first.

He led Master Lei home, and after walking around and inspecting the house inside and out, Master Lei pondered for a moment before asking:

“Boss, are you planning to repair everything all at once, or do it bit by bit? Do you want a full renovation, or just something livable for now?”

So many options just to fix a house? Fang Dahai scratched his head in confusion.

“I know this house,” Master Lei said. “It’s over a hundred years old. It’s been repaired several times—most recently about forty years ago, around the time the young master of the Beile family got married. So yeah, it’s really quite old. If you want it solid and reliable, the best way is a complete overhaul. But that, of course, won’t be cheap.”

Overhaul? That means spending money, right? Fang Dahai didn’t dare agree to that. First of all, he knew from experience that house repairs can eat up any amount of money. Second, his persona wouldn’t allow him to suddenly spend big. And third—if they really did a full renovation, where would his whole family live in the meantime? There was no good solution for that either.

So without hesitation, Fang Dahai rejected the idea.

“A full renovation won’t work, Master Lei—you can see how things are at my place. Definitely not feasible.”

“Then we go with the light touch?”

“As long as it doesn’t leak rain or wind and can last three to five years without more work, that’s good enough.”

“Well, in that case, it’s easy. Aside from building the new wall in the main room and setting up a heated kang bed like you asked, we just need to redo the roof tiles, refill the cracks in the brickwork inside and out, and give everything a fresh coat of whitewash. With our craftsmanship, it won’t leak for at least five years.”

Exactly! That’s what Fang Dahai wanted. As long as he got five years of breathing room—by then he’d be nineteen, the neighbors would be familiar with him, and he’d have shown some ability to support the family. If he claimed he was doing major renovations in preparation for getting married, who would question it then?

“Alright, let’s go with that plan. Thank you, Master Lei.”

“No trouble at all.”

“Could you give me a price estimate? How much is the deposit? Oh, and how many people will you bring? How many days will it take? Also—one more thing. I know it’s standard to provide meals for the workers, but the thing is…”

Fang Dahai glanced at the kids sitting on the kang watching the grown-ups talk and gave a slightly embarrassed smile before continuing:

“I’d have to ask you to include the cost of meals in the total. Please bring your own lunch—I’m really sorry about that.”

The kids’ image at that moment actually helped a lot: they were small, skinny, poorly dressed, and obviously just a big kid looking after several younger ones. Anyone with a conscience would feel some sympathy.

And Fang Dahai had been nothing but polite and thoughtful—offering a deposit right away, and even considering the workers’ meals. It really tugged at Master Lei’s heart.

Thinking about how this kid had reminded him to stock up on rice at the shop earlier, Master Lei glanced outside—most of the other people in the courtyard were busy with their own things and not paying attention—then leaned in and whispered:

“Boss, meals aren’t a big deal. We’ll just bring some flatbreads ourselves. But your house—actually, I think you can make better use of it.”

Better use? Add something? What—like, build another room?

“Even though both rooms are side rooms, their positioning is good. See that wall on the east side?”

Seeing Fang Dahai’s confused face, Master Lei took him to the door and pointed between the east-side room and the main east wing.

“You mean I can make use of that space? Really?”

Fang Dahai had lived in the capital before—he knew that even in rural homes, people often used outside areas to store things. As soon as Master Lei hinted at it, he understood. But now, as a kid in an unfamiliar courtyard, he couldn’t very well come out and say that sort of thing directly.

“You sure can. According to courtyard rules, the space under your windows and outside your doors is yours to use. In a case like yours, as long as you’re not lighting fires near the south wall and bothering the people in the east wing, it’s fine. You can’t build a full room, of course, but you can store stuff there. So, you can put up a small shed and use it to store firewood, coal balls, or odds and ends from your house. Like that pushcart inside? Stand it upright and stash it here. No need to take up space indoors.”

These little life tips weren’t uncommon—you’d pick them up just by living in a courtyard long enough. But they did take time to learn. Master Lei laying it all out like this would help Fang Dahai and the kids settle in much faster. Fang Dahai appreciated that.

“Really helpful—thank you so much, Master Lei. Let’s do it your way, and please build a shed in that spot too.”

Maybe it was because she saw Fang Dahai talking to Master Lei again outside, but the middle-aged woman cooking at the east wing had been listening in with her ears perked the whole time. When she heard them mention a shed, she quickly put down her cooking tools and came over.

“You’re building a shed?”

Huh? What’s this? You got a problem with that?

Nope. Not a complaint—her eyes were gleaming. She was already thinking about how to take advantage of the situation.

“Boss Fang, we’re the closest neighbors in this courtyard. Auntie wants to discuss something with you. If you have any leftover bricks or wood after building your shed, could you spare them for my family?”

Huh? Leftover wood from building the shed? Stuff like that—people can just pick up a few pieces from outside. Why ask for it all of a sudden?

Not only Fang Dahai, but even Master Lei looked a bit puzzled. But since she brought it up, she clearly had something in mind. So they listened as she continued:

“Take a look at where my family stores our stuff.”

The middle-aged woman led them out a few steps with great enthusiasm and pointed to a spot by the southern wall of the east wing, next to the east wall itself. There were five or six pickle jars lined up, and she said a bit sheepishly:

“Our family stores things in the same spot as yours. But over there, there’s also an old gatekeeper’s house—though no one lives in it now, we can store stuff there however we like. Still, who knows when someone might move in? So I’ve always wanted to mark the space clearly while it’s still vacant, to avoid future trouble. See, right here—there used to be a wall, connected to the ornamental gate. Now it’s been torn down, just the foundation is left. We just want to lay a few bricks along it and build a little shed with some wood.”

As the woman explained in detail, Fang Dahai and Master Lei began to understand her reasoning and couldn’t help but look at her with a bit of newfound respect.

Sure, at first it seemed like she just came begging and might be the kind of person who tries to take advantage. But seeing the spot she picked—fair and precise—it showed she had a sense of boundaries. People like that… were rare and respectable.

Still, as admirable as she was, it wouldn’t do to just agree outright. Not because of any personal dislike, but because if Fang Dahai gave in too easily, he’d come off as a pushover. In a crowded compound like this, that could open the floodgates—others might come asking for salt one day, rice the next. How could he live like that?

So, even though he wasn’t opposed to giving away some leftovers, Fang Dahai pretended to hesitate and asked back:

“Auntie, even if I do have some leftover materials, can’t you just collect some from outside? That kind of stuff isn’t hard to find, right?”

“In the past, yes, it was easy to gather.”

She smiled helplessly and explained further:

“My family did manage to pick up quite a bit bit by bit recently. But lately it’s no longer possible—you know, lots of refugees have come into the city. These people don’t even have a roof over their heads, so they’ve been throwing together makeshift huts along the streets. Because of that, not only is there no scrap material left in the city, even branches outside the city have been foraged clean. Where am I supposed to find anything now?”

Whoa. Fang Dahai hadn’t expected that. Refugees… actually ended up cleaning out all the miscellaneous scrap in the city. What a chain reaction—surprising, to say the least.

Even Master Lei looked stunned, a “never thought of that” expression on his face.

“No wonder even firewood’s gotten more expensive lately. Turns out it’s because all the nearby trees outside the city have been stripped bare.”

“Exactly. I only realized it when you mentioned building a shed—if there’s none outside, then families repairing houses must have some. Boss Fang, don’t worry. Auntie knows you have it tough too—I’m not asking for a freebie. Here’s the deal: I noticed you just moved in and don’t have much. Tomorrow, I’ll ask your Uncle Qiao to bring you a few jin of coal dust in exchange. Mix that with some yellow clay and you can make quite a few coal briquettes—saves money on fuel.”

He hadn’t misjudged her—she really was a thoughtful person. Even though he’d heard from He Maozhu this morning that this Qiao fellow worked the books at a coal yard and could easily get leftover coal dust for free, it was still something hard for outsiders to come by. Using that to trade for a few leftover bricks and wood was more than fair.

Since that was the case, he was happy to agree—it also showed he was someone who knew how to manage a household frugally.

“Of course that works. Auntie, you’re teaching me how to save money—it’s me who should be thanking you. As for how much is left, I really don’t know, so you can come by and check yourself.”

No freeloading, and no overcalculating—Fang Dahai had built himself quite a nice image. Auntie Qiao immediately broke into a broad smile and even offered more goodwill in return.

“Boss Fang, you’re straightforward, I like that. All right, we’ll do it that way. I’ll judge how much to take. And from now on, when you need to buy coal, don’t run around. Just come to your Uncle Qiao—we’ll make sure you get a good deal.”

As she spoke, Auntie Qiao noticed Fang Dajiang peeking out from the side room, eavesdropping. Her smile grew even wider, and she greeted him:

“That’s your younger brother, right? What’s his name? I think I heard someone say Dajiang?”

“Yes, Fang Dajiang.”

“How old is he?”

“Ten.”

“Oh, just one year older than my Qiao Dong! Perfect, they can be playmates.”

Huh? Qiao Dong? That name…

“Auntie, how many kids do you have?”

“Two—Qiao Dong and Qiao Nan. Haha, your Uncle Qiao says if we have a third, we’ll name him Qiao Xi, and the fourth Qiao Bei. If East, South, West, and North aren’t enough, we’ll go with Center, Green, Red, and White—to make a full Mahjong set!”

That remark had the whole front courtyard—and even people in the middle courtyard—bursting out laughing. No one had ever heard such ridiculous naming ideas. Don’t they worry the kids will get laughed at when they grow up?

Everyone was laughing, even Master Lei was shaking his head with a smile.

No one noticed the moment when Fang Dahai’s eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped open.

How could he not be shocked? After spending the whole morning getting familiar with things, he finally realized what the issue was. So this was… a book! A novel!

The surname Qiao, the dad working at a coal shop, four sons named after the cardinal directions—wasn’t this that family from a period novel, the classic comparison group? Qiao Dong was that forever slightly worse-off male second lead, always used to highlight how exceptional the protagonist was. And that boy who bought rice earlier—Zhang Mingzhi, the only son of the manager at Fuxing Rice Shop—he was the tragic and pitiful male third lead!

Holy crap—his transmigration… really didn’t take the normal route! He even landed in a dog-blood melodrama of a novel!

Then what about himself? What role did he play in the book? Don’t tell him he was also one of those doomed-to-suffer characters?

Fang Dahai tried hard to recall. Good—although it had been a long time and he’d forgotten quite a bit, based on what he could remember, most of the book’s plot took place outside, and the indoor scenes mostly focused on the male lead. This courtyard compound was barely mentioned. So he shouldn’t be affected.

If that’s the case, then no big deal.

So what if he transmigrated into a book? As long as it didn’t interfere with his life, then who cared? No matter how dramatic things got—it had nothing to do with him! In the end, whether life was good or not, that was something you had to work for yourself!