Chapter 43: I Donate Ten Cents

Duan Chengliang watched the scene unfold from the back with great amusement. For the first time, he found Yan Bugui rather endearing. Now he finally understood that this kind of lifestyle was the most authentic one. People worried about their own household affairs without the slightest bit of pretense.

Glancing up occasionally at the ashen faces of Yi Zhonghai and Silly Zhu made it all the more delightful.

So much for the front, middle, and rear courtyards, breakthrough points, and a ripple effect—it had all turned out to be pure wishful thinking and absolute nonsense.

They had agreed to let the two men cooperate properly. Yet now, one was bedridden and unable to show his face, while the other held a single yuan bill as a model and pioneer. If looks could kill, the glare Yi Zhonghai was currently casting would surely be classified as lethal intent. He stared fixedly at the back of Yan Bugui's head from behind, wishing he could strike him down right then and there.

Trust Silly Zhu to be the first to pick up on Yi Zhonghai's mood. He cast a glance at Yi Zhonghai's expression and gaze.

Combined with his existing resentment over Yan Bugui dropping a mere one-yuan coin into the donation box, his anger flared.

With a cold, mocking chuckle, Silly Zhu thrust the donation box right in front of Yan Bugui once more. Raising an eyebrow and squinting sideways, he said disdainfully, "Third Uncle, you certainly have the nerve to say that. Considering your exemplary role as the Third Uncle of the courtyard, you only put a measly one yuan inside. I even donated five yuan myself! They might as well let me be the Third Uncle instead. Come on, chip in a bit more. Since you're supposed to be setting an example, you need to set a proper one and contribute more."

As soon as those words left Silly Zhu's mouth, Yi Zhonghai's heart skipped a beat, and he silently cursed to himself, "Damn it all. If anyone seizes upon this opening, today's entire scheme is completely ruined."

Meanwhile, Yan Bugui was so furious he felt like rolling his eyes.

He inwardly cursed a storming streak: "You unattached bachelor who doesn't need to worry about feeding a family, and can't even take care of your own sister! All you know how to do is put on airs and flatter other people's dirty feet. You throw five yuan around like it's nothing—you're nothing more than a prodigal son. If I lived like you, how would I manage to survive? You really understand nothing at all. No wonder people call you Silly Zhu; they always say a given name might be wrong, but a nickname never is. It's completely true."

Despite his anger, being rebuked like that by Silly Zhu in front of the entire courtyard caused Yan Bugui to lose face. His expression turned awkward and distressed. Hesitating and feeling completely helpless, his hand reached into his pocket once more. For the sake of his pride, he intended to add a bit of money, but the thought of parting with his hard-earned cash made his mouth twitch in agony.

For a moment, Yan Bugui was tormented with anxiety over these few yuan coins. He even began to ponder whether he should just fake a sudden, acute illness, collapse flat on the ground, and end it all once and for all so that every trouble would be settled. He wasn't just daydreaming either; after doing the math, collapsing for a few yuan still seemed quite cost-effective.

Right at that very moment, just as Yi Zhonghai feared the worst and Yan Bugui wished for a savior, a voice drifted over lightly from the back of the crowd: "Didn't they say donations were purely voluntary? Why is everyone forcing people to give more after they've already contributed? Is that still voluntary? Can that still be called a sincere act of kindness? I think we might as well call it a miserable heartache instead."

Hearing that cry, everyone in the courtyard turned their heads toward the direction of the voice.

They saw Duan Chengliang rise leisurely to his feet. Holding a ten-cent coin in his hand, he imitated the gestures of Yi Zhonghai and Silly Zhu, raised his hand high, and waved it at the gathering: "I think the Third Uncle has done a wonderful job in his role, setting a fine and exemplary standard. Therefore, responding actively to his leading demonstration is only right. My enthusiasm and initiative have been tremendously inspired by him. So, I am donating ten cents. Silly Zhu, hurry up and bring the donation box over here."

Yan Bugui instantly heaved a sigh of relief. With Duan Chengliang's ten cents as a baseline, his own one yuan instantly appeared much more magnanimous. Moreover, with this diversion, no one paid any more attention to him, and Silly Zhu stopped glaring at him as well.

He now thoroughly understood that being a good Third Uncle in the courtyard was no easy task; one truly needed accomplices. It was always helpful to have someone around during ordinary events to cooperate with and provide cover.

Yi Zhonghai no longer had the bandwidth to care about slapping the back of Yan Bugui's head. Glancing at Duan Chengliang at the back of the crowd, he understood in his heart that his plan to stage an entertaining spectacle today was most likely down the drain.

He couldn't help casting a sidelong glance at Silly Zhu, sighing inwardly, "Silly Zhu is certainly brave enough, but bravery without strategy is useless. It really is like Liao Hua being put in the vanguard because there are no great generals left in Shu."

True to form, Silly Zhu was indeed bold. He hadn't been satisfied with Yan Bugui donating one yuan, and now that Duan Chengliang was loftily waving a ten-cent coin and making a big spectacle of summoning him over, his anger reached a boiling point.

Earlier today at the rolling mill's main gate, he had already been holding a grudge against Duan Chengliang, and it hadn't faded yet. To his surprise, this punk was still blind enough to court trouble; Silly Zhu had intended to let him off the hook, but the fellow had thrown himself right back into the line of fire.

Fine. Didn't you ask me to come over? I'm coming right now. The two of us can have a good reckoning about exactly how much money should be donated!

A mocking smile played at the corners of Silly Zhu's mouth as he clutched the donation box and strode toward Duan Chengliang.

Sensing that something was amiss, Yi Zhonghai called out to Silly Zhu's retreating back, "Zhuzi, wait a moment! There's no need to carry the box down there; just stay at the front and let everyone line up voluntarily to make their donations."

Without looking back and maintaining his pace, Silly Zhu merely waved a hand and replied nonchalantly, "First Uncle, it's fine. I just have a feeling that Duan Chengliang surely wants to donate more. He doesn't spend much money on himself usually, so donating ten cents is hardly enough—he should give at least ten yuan."

Hearing those words, Yi Zhonghai's heart skipped a beat. How could he fail to detect the heavy scent of gunpowder in that statement? Something bad was bound to happen.

By this time, Silly Zhu had already reached Duan Chengliang. Putting on an affected, swaggering posture, he looked Duan Chengliang up and down, swayed his body with a hooligan-esque demeanor, and said, "Duan Chengliang, hurry up. Your baseline should be five yuan, and ten yuan is the standard rate. Now, honestly tuck that ten-cent coin back into your pocket."

Duan Chengliang raised the ten-cent coin even higher. Ignoring Silly Zhu entirely, he swept his gaze across everyone in the courtyard and announced loudly, "How come this doesn't feel like a charitable act of kindness at all? It feels more like the White Dog bandits storming a village to extort forced contributions."

Roars of laughter erupted throughout the courtyard, plunging the scene into complete chaos. Sitting on a long bench outside the west wing, Qin Huairu looked at Duan Chengliang with deep worry in her eyes. Twisting the hem of her jacket between her hands, she appeared extremely tense.

Knowing Silly Zhu's temperament all too well, she figured that his stubborn, reckless streak had fully kicked in by now. If Duan Chengliang continued to provoke him like this, Silly Zhu might abandon words altogether and resort to physical violence.

Hearing the phrase "White Dog bandits" ring in his ears, Silly Zhu felt a buzzing sensation in his head from the sheer provocation. Gritting his teeth and glaring fiercely, he recalled how Duan Chengliang had completely humiliated him earlier today at the rolling mill. Instantly, fury surged from the depths of his heart, and malevolence welled up in his mind.

Noticing that Duan Chengliang was still smiling and waving his hands at the crowd while ignoring him, Silly Zhu spotted his chance. He aimed straight for the space between Duan Chengliang's legs, drew back his foot, and kicked forward.

Since everyone's attention was focused right here, Silly Zhu's movement was witnessed by all. Though there was no time to speak or intervene, a nearly simultaneous gasp escaped the lips of the onlookers.

Although Duan Chengliang appeared unconcerned, he had actually been keeping a close eye on Silly Zhu the entire time. He knew full well that this fellow was not someone easy to deal with and was accustomed to launching sneak attacks under the radar. Some analyses even suggested that Xu Damao's inability to father children might well be related to the underhanded blows dealt by this very guy.

Therefore, Duan Chengliang had long since guarded himself against Silly Zhu's seemingly stealthy low kick.

Instead of dodging or moving away, Duan Chengliang felt that, for some inexplicable reason, although Silly Zhu's kick appeared swift, in his eyes it wasn't particularly fast—at the very least, its trajectory was completely predictable.

Thus, he calmly waited until Silly Zhu's foot was just about to strike his groin.

With a sudden, unhurried motion, a short-handled iron hammer abruptly materialized in the hand he had seemingly left resting casually across his abdomen, positioning itself precisely to block the blow right in front of his crotch.