Chapter 119: Spitting Could Drown a Man

PS: A quick shout-out to a friend’s new book, *Tang Gun*.

“Old man! Who is it? Even if I gave him twice the courage, I wouldn’t bother checking in Si Jiu City. Who am I afraid of? Back in the day, weren’t the Red Guard youngsters fierce? I’d just swing my shovel around and smack those little punks! If they want to fight... heh heh heh... kid! Don’t try those tricks on your second grandpa! I’m not falling for it. Bring as many old men as you like, it’s all the same to me...” Sure enough, when the Second Grandpa heard there was some old fellow trying to cozy up to Liu Bai, he slammed on the brakes and came to a stop immediately. He started to say something but then caught himself—no way was he falling for Hong Tao’s ploy.

“I’m really coming from the heart here. My little building is almost done. You see, such a big courtyard—just a few girls watching over it makes me uneasy. I figured, since you’re free anyway, why not move in with me? Tomorrow, I’ll clear out a room and set up a little shop filled with cricket jars, cicada gourds, birdcages—all those old Beijing knickknacks. I’ll even put in a set of antique furniture. You can sit there with your little clay teapot, and when customers come, you can chat with those who know their stuff. Ignore the fools; we’re not aiming to make a fortune, just to preserve a bit of old Beijing culture, so the younger generation knows how us old-timers used to have fun. What do you say?” Hong Tao had a hundred ways to convince people nowadays—no matter how stubborn your temper, there was always a method that worked.

“Zzz... You’re serious? Listen, we might joke around, but don’t mess with Second Grandpa! If you push me too far, I won’t recognize a thing or anyone!” The Second Grandpa slammed on the brakes again, nearly throwing off a cyclist behind him. He didn’t even hear the curses from the cyclist, just turned back with a stern warning to Hong Tao.

“No way! When have I ever joked about serious matters? I’ve already picked the room—the second floor at the far south end, big windows facing south. I’ll install an air conditioner so it’ll be warm in winter and cool in summer. Just picture it: basking in the sun, sitting in a Ming-style official’s chair, holding a little purple clay teapot, chatting with the old pals about birds, insects, pigeons. What a comfortable life! Not even a mayor would trade for that! Oh, and I’m planning to set up a large pigeon coop on the roof. I’ll keep dozens of pigeons with little bells on their tails. When I wake up, I’ll unleash them all, and no one will get to sleep!” Hong Tao spoke as if it were real, even daydreaming about the future scene.

“Then why don’t you just open it yourself? Why drag me into it? I can teach you what you don’t know, and you’ll understand as you go. But you’re not asking me to watch the door, are you? Second Grandpa won’t do that! I can’t lose face like that!” The Second Grandpa still didn’t get Hong Tao’s meaning.

“Hey! Stubborn old man! When did I say you had to watch the door? There’s no door to watch at my place! Let’s go into business together—you bring your knowledge as your investment, I’ll put in the money. How about that? I even thought of the shop name—‘The Knickknack’!” Hong Tao’s plan was spontaneous. He’d originally wanted to fish for the old man’s honest thoughts but ended up stumbling into a business idea.

“Join as partners? I don’t have to put in money? Just sweat equity? Is it really that easy?” The Second Grandpa slammed the brakes a third time.

“Second Grandpa, how about we stop and finish this talk before moving on? Or go home and discuss it. You keep jerking the brakes like this—I can’t take the stress!” Hong Tao’s seat wasn’t large, and the sudden stops made him uncomfortable.

“Enough chatter! Keep talking!” The Second Grandpa kicked off again.

“It’s not sweat equity—you’ll have to be the shopkeeper. You can’t just let me do all the work while you lie at home counting money. Besides, you’re more knowledgeable than me in this area. It’ll be a strong partnership: I bring the money, you bring the wisdom. What you know is worth something—better than you dragging a cart every day, right?” Hong Tao roughly explained his idea.

“How much are those ‘something’ things worth?” The Second Grandpa was blunt, asking about his share.

“You get thirty percent! I’ll lend you the money, you give me a written IOU, and you pay me back once you’ve earned. No interest—fair, right?” Hong Tao thought it over and held up three fingers.

“Why not lend me more? How about you take seventy and I take thirty?” The Second Grandpa didn’t slam the brakes this time, but Hong Tao was already ready to stop him if needed.

“Dream on! My money isn’t blowing in the wind. Plus, you might kick the bucket in a few years, and who knows who’ll get the shares then? I’m not even ten years old yet and have plenty of life ahead. So it’s normal for me to keep a bigger slice!” Hong Tao smirked. Even thirty percent made him wince, let alone seventy!

“Don’t curse me! You little brat! Run home yourself!” The Second Grandpa slammed the brakes hard this time, throwing Hong Tao off the bike. But he didn’t mean to hurt the kid—he grabbed Hong Tao by the collar, set him down gently, then pedaled away.

Of course, the Second Grandpa never really left Hong Tao behind in the West City—it was all in good fun. When he rode back, Hong Tao was standing by the roadside, holding a giant popsicle and watching a candy sculptor at work. He even bought a sugar-blown elephant for Jin Yue.

Speaking of Jin Yue, she was a disappointment to Hong Tao. She hadn’t lived up to his hope of being pure and unsullied. Since Hong Tao left Class One, over the past year, Jin Yue had become more like a typical kid of this era. Although she still often came to play after school, their closeness had faded. Sometimes, when Hong Tao took her shopping, she wasn’t as natural holding his hand; she’d pull away whenever she got a chance.

Hong Tao didn’t force anything. As girls grow older, they naturally drift from boys. Plus, she was part of this era, surrounded by classmates unlike Hong Tao. Though she hadn’t fully shaken off his influence, it was waning. One day, she would think like those classmates, sharing their worldview.

Hong Tao wasn’t bothered by Jin Yue’s gradual distancing. He just didn’t want her to become as worldly as her peers. But many things were beyond his control. Now, Jin Yue often tattled on him to her father, reporting everything he did at school, as if trying to save a lost lamb and pull him back into the family fold.

Meanwhile, another companion of Hong Tao’s didn’t disappoint. Zhang Dajiang never distanced himself or tried to “save” Hong Tao. He continued to regard Hong Tao as one of the few trustworthy friends and often came to visit him at the salon. Although his mother would storm in, scolding and dragging him away with a few cutting remarks, Hong Tao never barred Dajiang. Partly because Dajiang lived right across the street, partly because Hong Tao was immune to such gossip. As long as no one insulted him directly, he treated the words like a foreign language he didn’t understand.

Hong Tao could be shameless, but his aunt couldn’t. Though she found the job she wanted and earned a substantial sum, she was unhappy, mainly because of the gossip. Since the two Hu family shops opened, some neighbors initially watched with schadenfreude, waiting for the family to fail. But nearly a year later, the Hu family hadn’t stumbled; instead, they’d grown wealthy, buying washing machines and noticeably improving their lifestyle. When neighbors saw them, though smiling, their eyes burned red with envy.

No matter whether they reported complaints to the neighborhood committee or wrote denunciations to the authorities, nothing affected the Hu family. So rumors and gossip spread like wildfire, mostly targeting the aunt and cousin. Hong Tao himself seemed excluded—no one bothered to fabricate stories about him, which annoyed him. Wasn’t he a boy, too?

Early rumors claimed the aunt’s tailor shop often had shady young men coming and going, chatting and laughing with her. But the stories twisted as they circulated, with neighborhood ladies embellishing and creating new versions. The tailor shop and salon transformed into dens of vice, with the aunt and Han Xue labeled as morally loose.

The latest version Hong Tao heard had escalated to tales of mysterious men and women spending nights there, even caught arriving or leaving in the early morning, complete with detailed descriptions. This ruined the reputation of both shops, so that parents would roll their eyes or openly scold their children for even mentioning going to the tailor or salon. Dajiang’s mother certainly didn’t want her son hanging around such a den of vice.

At first, Hong Tao was shaken by the gossip—not worried for his aunt, but afraid Han Xue would lure in street kids. He even stayed after closing, hiding nearby to keep watch for night visitors and kept a close eye on the shop’s layout, checking if anything had moved.

(To be continued...)

PS: The extra 180 monthly votes update is here—no debts owed! Quick and clean!