Chapter 114: Qi-Induced Dizziness of Yi Zhonghai

Life is impermanent.

The greater constant contains the lesser constant.

Eight o'clock in the evening.

Shazhu proposed and planned it, Liu Haizhong took the lead in organizing, all the people of the siheyuan echoed, and a meeting specifically aimed at harming Yi Zhonghai officially kicked off.

One of the three chairs symbolizing the authority of the three head stewards of the siheyuan was removed; the chair originally belonging to Yi Zhonghai was sat upon by Liu Haizhong, wiggling his buttocks, and Liu Haizhong's position became Yan Fugui's.

Only the hypocrite, former head steward, stood dazed among the neighbors, while the neighbors looked on as if stars surrounding the moon at the smug Liu Haizhong and the indifferent Yan Fugui; this huge gap made Yi Zhonghai, who always cared about face, unable to accept it, also unable to accept it; he felt a myriad of emotions and let out a faint sigh.

Worldly affairs are impermanent.

Yesterday Yi Zhonghai was still a respected head steward, his word was law in the siheyuan, and countless people were convinced.

Overnight.

His reputation collapsed.

The head steward is no longer a head steward.

The steward is no longer a steward.

His reputation has rotted into stinking dog shit.

Inside the Yagangchang, coworkers stabbed him in the spine.

In the courtyard, the neighbors also gave him various dirty looks.

This really isn't the result he wanted.

Just now, after sending the deaf old lady home, she purposely pulled Yi Zhonghai aside and spoke for a while; the implication was that Shazhu was more suitable than Jia Dongxu to support Yi Zhonghai and his wife in their old age, and she also taught Yi Zhonghai how to morally blackmail the neighbors, urging him to start with Shazhu and definitely accomplish this before Shazhu gets married, otherwise Shazhu would truly become a broken kite and fly away.

Yi Zhonghai's gaze unconsciously fell on Shazhu.

His thoughts stirred.

In Shazhu's arms, how could he be holding a box that looked extremely familiar to him?

He examined it closely.

This isn't the box that, over the past two years, Yi Zhonghai, in his capacity as head steward, used moral blackmail to extract donations of money and goods from the neighbors for the Jia family and the deaf old lady—so how did it end up in Shazhu's arms?

Donations?

Donations of goods?

He turned his head.

He glanced at the aunt who was supporting the deaf old lady.

The gazes of Yi Zhonghai, the aunt, and the deaf old lady met in midair; at the instant their gazes converged, Yi Zhonghai understood what the deaf old lady and the aunt meant.

If it truly is a donation drive.

Yi Zhonghai would represent the Yi family in making a generous donation.

In their gazes, the aunt and the deaf old lady vaguely conveyed a meaning to Yi Zhonghai.

Taking the opportunity to whitewash himself.

Yi Zhonghai's hand reached into his pocket, which held the 435,000 wages he had just received; he intended to donate it all, to shock the siheyuan with a grand gesture and let certain people know that Yi Zhonghai was still Yi Zhonghai.

"Calling the neighbors together late at night, there are two points. First, as the head steward of the siheyuan, I, Liu Haizhong, will formally chat with the neighbors. You all know that last night many things happened in the main courtyard; the former head steward Yi Zhonghai ran into trouble, and his home was messed up by those people."

Liu Haizhong caught his breath.

He pointed at Shazhu.

"Everyone knows Shazhu; I won't introduce Shazhu, I'll introduce what's in his arms—you all see it's a donation box. When Yi Zhonghai was head steward, he organized several donation drives for the elderly lady in the rear courtyard and the Jia family in the middle courtyard."

Jia Dongxu's heart stirred.

Money for nothing.

Why not take it?

Everyone in the courtyard knows Jia Dongxu and Shazhu are mortal enemies.

In fact.

It is jealousy that caused the trouble.

Jia Dongxu envies Shazhu; this jealousy grows stronger as Shazhu's life improves—bicycle, radio, camera, sewing machine; Shazhu has gathered the three machines and one bicycle. Especially Shazhu's sewing machine, which was compensation given by the Jia family to someone else. Initially Jia Zhangshi was reluctant to use it, saying she would wait until she married Qin Huairu and let the new daughter-in-law use it, because Jia Dongxu lost Shazhu's bicycle, and Xu Daming moved the Jia family's sewing machine to Shazhu's home, where it became Shazhu's sewing machine.

They are all the same kind of person.

Shazhu's father ran off with a widow to Baocheng.

Jia Dongxu at least has a mother, and also Yi Zhonghai as his teacher; in Jia Dongxu's mind, he ought to be pressing down on Shazhu, not Shazhu stepping on him.

Jealousy drives people mad.

Shazhu is a mid-level purchaser at the scrap yard, one of the eight senior staff; what is Jia Dongxu? Just an ordinary formal worker at the Yagangchang, not even a lowest-grade level-one worker, his wages are only two-fifths of Shazhu's.

This gap stimulates Jia Dongxu; seeing Shazhu commute by bicycle every day, he feels hatred to the death, envy to the death, and his jealousy grows ever stronger. Compared to Jia Dongxu, Shazhu, who is several years younger, rides his bicycle to and from work, while Jia Dongxu relies on walking; if the weather is fine, it's tolerable, but if he encounters wind, rain, and snow, he must brave the elements.

Deep down, Jia Dongxu intensely longs for a bicycle.

Liu Haizhong's words instantly set Jia Dongxu's thoughts racing; if he had money, he would go buy a brand-new bicycle tomorrow.

With eyes full of anticipation, he gazed at Liu Haizhong, his eyes burning with fervor; today Jia Dongxu deliberately ignored Yi Zhonghai.

"To demonstrate the mutual aid among our siheyuan neighbors, I, Liu Haizhong, together with Second Head Steward Yan Fugui, have taken the lead in organizing this donation drive of money and goods for the former head steward Yi Zhonghai; those with money contribute money, those with strength contribute effort, so that the former head steward can fully feel the neighbors' care, striving to complete the aid to Yi Zhonghai as soon as possible, allowing his family to live this happy life."

The scene turned into a silent ocean.

Apart from a limited few who were in the know.

Most people turned into monks eight feet tall, unable to figure out their own heads.

What the heck.

Donations.

Or donating to Yi Zhonghai.

The most typical individuals are Jia Dongxu, Yi Zhonghai, and Xu Daming.

Jia Dongxu's bewildered cluelessness came from realizing he had overthought it—people were donating to Yi Zhonghai, not to his disciple of Yi Zhonghai, leaving him feeling uneasy.

I had already prepared to use the neighbors' donations to buy a bicycle, you bastard suddenly told me that the donation drive was being held for Yi Zhonghai.

Is Yi Zhonghai short of money?

No, he isn't.

It felt in his heart like being scratched by a cat.

It was truly unsatisfying.

Yi Zhonghai and Jia Dongxu felt much the same—this all-over uncomfortable sensation; they had intended to use donations to whitewash themselves and reset their images, yet you urged the neighbors to donate to me, Yi Zhonghai—this is just messing around, isn't it?

Am I the kind of person who needs the neighbors' donations?

He wanted to speak up and refuse.

He also considered his current status.

He became anxious.

Like ants on a hot pan.

He didn't think of anything good.

He considered it a trap.

Xu Daming, standing not far from Yi Zhonghai, was the first to react.

Donate to Yi Zhonghai.

This is clearly intended to disgust Yi Zhonghai.

Such a despicable method.

Who came up with this?

Liu Haizhong!

When his gaze fell on Liu Haizhong, he immediately dismissed the suspicion about Liu Haizhong; Liu Haizhong, simple-minded and known only for beating his son, wouldn't think of such a nasty trick.

It was Shazhu!

Xu Daming's eyes lit up.

This method must have been thought up by Shazhu.

Excellent.

Really fucking excellent.

Probably even Yi Zhonghai himself wouldn't have expected Shazhu to respond to his morning behavior in this way.

Despicable, he took tiny steps home, despicable all the way.

"I think the Second Elder is right; last night we all saw those people turning Old Yi's home into a mess, the house basically uninhabitable, and I wanted to express my concern for the First Elder. The Second Elder's proposal to have us donate to Old Yi—I, Xu Daming, am the first to agree."

"Damao, no need, I have money; the neighbors aren't well-off, they have many kids and earn little."

Yi Zhonghai felt as if his mouth had been suddenly covered, unable to utter a word.

It had a bit of that 'riding a tiger, hard to dismount' feeling.

Accept the donations.

Slap Yi Zhonghai in the face.

Refuse the donations.

Also slap Yi Zhonghai in the face.

Yi Zhonghai's explanation precisely became evidence for people slapping him in the face: since he knows the neighbors are having a hard time, why did he still organize them to donate to the Jia Family and Long Laotaitai?

An invisible trap appeared around Yi Zhonghai: step forward, you hit the trap; step back, you also hit the trap.

He went numb.

He froze on the spot.

Xu Daming took advantage of Yi Zhonghai's stunned moment, pulling out a stack of money from his pocket.

It amounted to several tens of thousands.

Jia Dongxu was angry.

His nose was twisted.

Duǎnmìng Jia thought Xu Daming was going to donate that much money to Yi Zhonghai, and he muttered to himself, 'Xu Daming, are you just stuffed after eating? With that much money, if you donate it to Yi Zhonghai, he might not even thank you; you'd be better off donating it to me, Jia Dongxu.'

A turn of events occurred while Jia Dongxu was lost in his fantasies.

Xu Daming, holding a stack of money, counted it, pulled out the smallest denomination bill, and walked over to the wooden table.

Shazhu had just placed the donation box here, with Yan Fugui holding a pen and paper beside it.

Xu Daming's admiration for Shazhu was like the endless, surging river waters, like the Yellow River's flood, unstoppable.

Besides using the donations to slap Yi Zhonghai in the face, he also had Yan Fugui record who donated how much on paper—this was tantamount to giving Yi Zhonghai two slaps, then asking him whether he enjoyed those slaps.

Too ruthless.

Shazhu mocked Yi Zhonghai's plan.

As Shazhu's brother, Xu Daming naturally raised both hands in approval, fully cooperating.

"San Daye, I, Xu Daming, donate a hundred; please record my name."

Yan Fugui glanced at Xu Daming, his hand gripping the steel pen trembling.

Is this a donation?

This is just slapping Yi Zhonghai's old face.

Recently, a catty of rice rose to ten thousand dollars; a hundred dollars could buy only a qian of rice.

"San Daye, go ahead and write it—I, Xu Daming, am donating a hundred dollars to Yi Zhonghai."

Urged by Xu Daming, Yan Fugui steadied himself, wrote Xu Daming's name on the white paper, and after it wrote the number one hundred.

Old Kou's face was not happy.

Felt extremely comfortable inside.

Striking Yi Zhonghai's face, having nothing to do with Yan Fugui, Xu Daming donated one hundred yuan, which looked like a large denomination, but actually had the purchasing power of just one cent.

This is truly harming others and pure depravity.

Yan Fugui thought Xu Daming had already surpassed his view of human nature; little did he know, Shazhu's shout again aroused his endless doubts about human nature.

"San Daye, you wait a moment to write." Smiling, Shazhu shouted at Yan Fugui, then turned to greet the dazed Xu Daming: "Xu Daming!"

Seeing Shazhu's expression, Xu Daming realized Shazhu was about to cause trouble; he thought wildly, I already donated one hundred and slapped Yi Zhonghai's face—you damn well can't be harsher than me.

The key was that Xu Daming didn't know how Shazhu would break through his one-hundred-yuan donation bottom line.

The smallest denomination is one hundred yuan.

You can't tear the one hundred yuan into strips and donate them strip by strip.

When Shazhu shouted the latter half of the content.

Only then did Xu Daming realize he had underestimated Shazhu.

Speaking of depravity.

My grandfather Shazhu is a professional.

Yan Fugui was stunned, his glasses fell onto the table, his mouth wide open in disbelief; Xu Daming's donated one hundred yuan, Shazhu intended to treat it as their joint donation, the reason being no change.

"Shazhu, what are you saying?"

"San Daye, I say this one hundred yuan, just treat it as my and Xu Daming's donation." Shazhu pulled out two hundred-thousand-yuan bills from his pocket: "No change."

Yi Zhonghai's face turned completely green.

Holding those two hundred-thousand-yuan bills, you damn, partnering with Xu Daming to donate me one hundred, this clearly says Yi Zhonghai only deserves Shazhu to donate fifty.

Shazhu, you are truly sincere.

The hypocrite wasn't wrong.

Shazhu is truly sincere; according to the plan he and Liu Haizhong discussed, Shazhu would take the lead donating one hundred, but Xu Daming rushed forward first, donating one hundred to Yi Zhonghai, thereby disrupting Shazhu's steps.

This is intolerable.

Thus.

Shazhu, with a sudden clever idea, treated Xu Daming's donated one hundred as their joint donation.

Regarding this.

Yan Fugui just wanted to know where the lower limit of humanity lies.

Can't everyone be playing this trick.

The more impossible something is.

The more it becomes possible.

Thanks to Shazhu's sudden clever idea, the activity of properly donating to Yi Zhonghai was turned into something else entirely.

Thin-skinned neighbors imitated Xu Daming, donating one hundred; thick-skinned ones directly imitated Shazhu, having Yan Fugui write their name after someone else's.

Among twenty-odd households, excluding Long Laotaitai in Hou Yuan and Jia Family in Zhong Yuan who didn't donate to Yi Zhonghai, the remaining neighbors voluntarily lent a hand, cumulatively donating five hundred to Yi Zhonghai; most wrote their names after others' donation amounts, and those who were joint donors didn't get angry, even feeling a bit excited, seeing who was in trouble and actively asking the other to put their name after.

Five hundred yuan.

That's just five qian of rice.

What Yi Zhonghai cares about isn't how much money; given the situation settled, as someone stripped of the Head Steward title, he fundamentally had no right to rebut, and these people wouldn't give him a chance to rebut.

What truly made Yi Zhonghai feel losing face was these people who donated five qian of rice; each wore the smug look of having done him a huge favor, each became his savior, considering themselves his benefactor, with the benefactor's expression, looking down on him from above.

When had Yi Zhonghai ever suffered such ridicule.

Originally, Yi Zhonghai was already disheveled over the donation matter; he could no longer tolerate being looked down upon like an ant, his pent-up depression piled up with no outlet.

This humiliation.

Too heavy.

"Pfft!"

A mouthful of fresh blood spurted out.

Yi Zhonghai's eyelids drooped and he fainted; unaware of what happened afterward, when he slowly woke up, besides the concerned gaze of the big mother, there were those five bills placed on the Yi family's kang table.

The five hundred-yuan bills turned into mocking faces, wildly ridiculing Yi Zhonghai; with a deep, muffled cry of pain, Yi Zhonghai fainted again.

The Siheyuan echoed with the big mother's shrill howl.

"Help! Come on, Old Yi fainted, help!"