Chapter 1456: Looking Down On

Early the next morning, the stove that had been banked all night retained little residual warmth; the room had grown cold, and the bedding was no longer warm.

Even Wang Yan had risen more than half an hour earlier than usual; his biological clock had malfunctioned.

He did not fear the cold, but the perceived temperature always affected his condition. Having previously adapted to warmth, a sudden switch required a period of adjustment.

Although the room had central heating, he slept on a bed; without the bed being piping hot, the feeling was far inferior.

Wang Yan did not linger in bed; once awake, he got up.

He dressed briskly, stoked the stove until it was hot, and set a kettle to boil water. Then, using an enamel mug, he brewed a cup of high-grade tea dust.

"Pah!"

Sitting on a stool with one leg crossed over the other, Wang Yan spat out some tea leaves and looked toward the bed.

His room was not large; the west wing housed two families. The neighboring family consisted of two adults, four children, and an elder. In fact, the entire courtyard comprised one large extended family, with another household in the back yard numbering over a dozen people; none had it easy.

At present, the nation was impoverished, development was hindered, diplomacy had suffered setbacks, and geopolitical dangers loomed; it was indeed a difficult time. For the common people below, this translated into a hard life.

Relatively speaking, Wang Yan's situation was better. His living space was considerable, he held a technical job at the second-grade wage level, earning thirty-six yuan monthly, plus corresponding rations of grain, oil, meat, cloth, and coal.

Furthermore, as Li Kui had said, Wang Yan took on some private carpentry jobs; neighbors, knowing his skill was excellent, had accumulated wood through various channels for him to make furniture. Speaking of which, within Wang Yan's background and connections, it was Li Kui who actively made these contacts.

Although alleyway loafers were not well-liked, they possessed extensive networks. Li Kui lacked a grand reputation, but in the area around Nanheng Street, he genuinely commanded some respect. Those he associated with were all local youths; if anything happened in any household, they could gather news.

Coupled with Wang Yan's even more impressive reputation here, people were willing to mention it to their families, demonstrating that they were not merely idling, that they had a brother who could make furniture, and at reasonable prices too.

Thus, through this back-and-forth, Wang Yan had gained some renown. He was actually more popular than several old master carpenters in the area, and work never ceased coming his way.

After drinking a mugful of tea, the water was also boiled; steam hissed against the kettle lid.

Wang Yan made a decision: he would sell the bed and instead build a heated brick kang in this room, making sleep much more comfortable.

He stood up, poured the boiling water from the kettle into a thermos for use upon his return in the evening, then used a large ladle to heat water and warm up yesterday's leftover food.

After he had eaten and washed, life stirred in the courtyard; every household began cooking, elders coughed outside, and people constantly went in and out to empty chamber pots and dump dirty water...

It was still early before work hours, and Wang Yan had no intention of exercising; that consumed too much energy. His current funds were sufficient for an average person to eat their fill, but far from enough for him to be satiated, let alone eat well. Thus, he simply chose not to exercise, honestly conserving his energy.

He picked up the materials stored inside the room and diligently began working to earn money.

This job had also been arranged by Li Kui: making a cabinet.

Wang Yan wielded various tools, processing the timber, gradually shaping it into the required form. Slow and steady yields fine work; there was no need to rush this.

Wang Yan even thoughtfully added elaborate touches, such as mortise-and-tenon joints at the connections and carved patterns on the exterior; for daily-use furniture, this added a bit of flair.

His carpentry level was not high, yet he possessed third-grade skill; if calculated according to the current eight-grade system, he would rank at fifth or sixth grade. Additionally, he held fourth-grade woodcarving skill; combining these two, mutually enhancing each other, the finished products he handcrafted rated above fourth grade.

Converting this level to the eight-grade worker system, he would be at least seventh grade. In certain aspects, he even surpassed eighth-grade master carpenters. After all, not every carpenter knows how to carve; in this single aspect alone, Wang Yan prevailed.

To say nothing else, placed in ancient times, his skill level would qualify him to lead a team repairing the imperial palace, with countless disciples and grand-disciples; he would genuinely be considered a master craftsman.

This time, by chance, he truly wished to study carpentry thoroughly, so he could play with his future children.

After working hard with grunts and groans all morning, Wang Yan walked straight out, latched the door but did not lock it, mounted his bicycle, and rode off.

He genuinely did not lock his door; over the past two years, anyone who had stolen from his home he had tracked down, and along with their small gangs, he had broken all their hands.

Greeting people along the way, he leisurely pedaled his bicycle to the furniture factory, which was not far away, located in Fengtai, just a few kilometers distant.

The reason he had taken Chang'an Avenue last night was merely a whim; he had ridden his bicycle in a loop...

The furniture factory's main gate was large, featuring a huge workshop, two massive warehouses, and a vast open area, where one corner held a large pile of timber covered with waterproof tarps.

There was also a dilapidated three-story small building; this served as the office for leadership and the dining hall for the factory employees.

It was now peak commuting time; over a hundred factory workers continuously arrived, greeting each other upon meeting, creating a genuinely lively atmosphere.

There was no morning assembly, no speeches from leadership; after simple preparations, work commenced immediately.

"Wang Yan, today we continue; let's strive to complete the full-scale model of this sofa. Don't be careless; these are all items for export to earn foreign exchange."

The speaker was Wang Yan's master and also his supervisor, named Zhang Bao Daquan, a sixth-grade master carpenter. At fifty years old, he was very lean, not tall, and the pillar of his family.

"Got it, Master; I'm proceeding steadily and guarantee completion today," Wang Yan replied, then briskly prepared his tools to begin work.

"I hear you know quite a few people?" Zhang Bao Daquan leaned closer and asked in a low voice.

"Ah, just those neighbors. As you know, Master, I do some private work at home, making furniture for people; that's how I got to know them."

"Boy, you're still not being honest with me? Those few troublemakers in our factory were all beaten by you until they cried for their fathers and mothers."

Hearing this, Wang Yan understood: "I wondered what this was about. You mean those little hooligans? What's the matter? Do you need to find them?"

"My second daughter-in-law has given birth, and we want to procure some milk powder. Our entire family consists of honest people; we don't have connections like you, boy. See if you can figure something out."

"Is it urgent?"

"The baby is crying loudly from hunger; how can it not be urgent?"

"No wonder you haven't been focused these past two days," Wang Yan nodded, then continued, "How about getting some meat instead? Old hens and crucian carp promote milk production, and pig trotters can replenish what was lost during confinement. Master, for a newborn, breast milk is still best. Additionally, I have a prescription to promote lactation that you could try."

"A prescription?"

"You don't trust me? My grandfather was a famous divine physician throughout the region. My mother had a weak constitution and little milk; this prescription was used when she gave birth to me."

"Will it really work?"

"Tsk, why would I lie to you?" Wang Yan clicked his tongue. "You can certainly find the meat. I'll write down the prescription for you; go fetch the herbs at noon. Drink the medicine and eat pig trotters today, drink crucian carp soup tomorrow, and I estimate the day after tomorrow your grandchild will be able to drink their fill."

While speaking, Wang Yan took paper and brush and swiftly wrote out the prescription, handing it over.

"This is a general formula; it basically works for most postpartum women. Even if it doesn't work completely, it will certainly have some medicinal effect. If it doesn't fully take effect, Master, I'll go with you in three days to check your second daughter-in-law's pulse."

Seeing Zhang Bao Daquan's face full of doubt, Wang Yan said with amusement, "It certainly won't kill anyone. When you go to Tongrentang to buy the medicine, ask a Physician; this formula contains no aconite, and its properties are not toxic. Even if a three-year-old child drank it, the worst that would happen is some internal heat."

Young and beardless, one cannot be trusted with important matters; even believing in folk remedies, coming from eighteen-year-old Wang Yan, it was normal for Zhang Bao Daquan to be half-believing and half-doubting. But since Wang Yan had spoken so definitively, what else could he do? He certainly tucked the prescription away safely, planning to rush to see a Physician at noon to verify whether the formula was reliable.

This was a minor interlude; afterward, Wang Yan began working.

They were not making an ordinary sofa of standard design, but a high-end sofa incorporating Ming and Qing dynasty antique furniture styles, engraved with various auspicious patterns, crafted entirely from redwood. Even the sofa cushions were made from particular, meticulously selected materials, extremely comfortable.

This had previously been commissioned by the state for export to earn foreign exchange, considered a high-end craft item for foreigners to enjoy. However, due to the circumstances of the current era, this was the last batch of export products their furniture factory would produce; henceforth, they would shift to making ordinary domestic furniture.

The furniture business was actually quite good. At this time, the trend was "thirty-six legs," later followed by "seventy-two legs," referring to tables, chairs, benches, dressing tables, and so on; these were mandatory requirements for a Miss getting married. Additionally, trends like the "three rotations and one sound" were already emerging.

Therefore, marriage was not simple in this era with low requirements; one still had to go into debt, just not to such an exaggerated extent...

It was also because marriage was a necessity; even if one didn't truly have all thirty-six legs of furniture, one still needed at least ten or twelve pieces, so the future business prospects for the furniture factory were certainly promising...

The working environment was actually not very good; due to the cold weather, everyone had to work inside this large workshop, yet even so, it was not warm, remaining just as cold. Added to this were the noises from chain saws and various other machines, along with everyone shouting and laughing while chatting idly, creating a deafening buzz.

However, under these circumstances, this was all one could expect, and there was no room to be more picky.

Wang Yan focused intently on sanding the sofa; his craftsmanship had earned praise from Zhang Bao Daquan, who said his rate of improvement was very fast, noting that he already looked hardly inferior to him, truly a born carpenter.

Wang Yan truly thanked the good master for his compliment...

After busying himself like this for a whole day, by evening, Wang Yan told Zhang Bao Daquan that he would not be coming the next morning, then rode his bicycle home...

Early the next morning, Li Kui arrived at Wang Yan's home.

Upon entering, he headed straight for the radiator, placing his hands on it to warm them, and said, "Getting up in this winter is truly life-threatening. It has to be you, Brother Yan, getting up this early to earn money; one really must have a skill."

"Are you hinting at me? Go call your second brother over," Wang Yan said with amusement.

"Really not; I was just expressing a sigh. If I had a skill, I could also go out and earn some money. As for my younger brother, he can come over when he has time off; otherwise, it might disturb you."

Li Kui let out an "Ai," then said, "I just remembered, Brother Yan, you have work today."

"It's fine," Wang Yan said. "Taking a day or two of leave won't deduct wages; as long as it doesn't delay important matters, it's okay. I'm going out this once to earn a ticket to the play, and while I'm at it, I can watch the excitement and see those 'Wan Zhu' you keep talking about; it should be quite interesting."

"You really shouldn't say that, Brother Yan; the ticket office today will definitely be extremely lively, with most of the famous ones showing up. It has to be the young ones; older people might not be willing to watch, but the young ones love to join in the fun. Those established old cannons, however, would look down on such things."

Seeing the look of longing on Li Kui's face, Wang Yan asked, "Are you quite envious?"

"Absolutely, Brother Yan; the old cannons are never short of money, while we can't even eat our fill; they eat meat at every meal, and they have so many ways to make money."

Since they are called old cannons, their influence must be considerable; engaging in illegal and criminal businesses, of course, they are never short of money. Every single one of them deserves to be executed by firing squad.

Wang Yan said with a smile, "When there's a chance, I'll take you to slap a few of those old cannons across the face."

"No, Brother Yan, such words should not be spoken lightly. They have dozens of brothers, while the two of us are no match for them; that would be sending ourselves to our deaths."

"You'll know when the time comes."

"Are you really going to do it?"

"Didn't you say that whatever I say to do, you will do?"

"That's certainly true, Brother Yan, but this kind of matter isn't worth it; with no grievance and no hatred, why should we offend them?"

Wang Yan shook his head: "Then tell me, with no grievance and no hatred, why did that little bastard stab someone to death?"

Li Kui suddenly realized: "I understand now, Brother Yan; you old fellow are planning to rob the old cannons' money? Since their money comes from illegitimate sources, it won't matter if we rob them."

"Ruzike Sect," Wang Yan said with a smile, nodding his head, then continuing to lower his head to work on the wood.

At this moment, Li Kui felt somewhat that what he had said last night was a bit too bold. Looking at Wang Yan's demeanor, he did not seem to be joking...

By past eight o'clock, the two strolled out of the courtyard compound.

They did not ride bicycles; Li Kui feared that if a fight really broke out, someone might take advantage of the chaos to ride away their bikes, which would truly be a huge loss.

The theater was not far away, located right at Xidan; chatting and laughing, the two walked there.

Upon arriving at this place, it was truly a sea of people and a mountain of crowds, with the queue stretching out extremely long. Most were young men and women; some gathered in groups of three or five, chattering away, some looked like hooligans at first glance, teasing young ladies, others sat quietly on small folding stools reading books, and some had even set up tables to play cards, making for a remarkably lively scene.

Wang Yan followed Li Kui to find Zhong Yuemin, also meeting Zheng Tong and Yuan Jun, these two good friends of Zhong Yuemin.

However, the initial beginning was not very friendly; just as in the original drama, Yuan Jun made things difficult for Li Kui.

With resentment on his face and words laden with barbs, he had plainly written his contempt all over his face...

"I heard you've practiced wrestling since childhood, claiming your fists strike down heroes across the world and your feet kick brave men from five directions. And as for this one behind you, he says he can deal with you in just two or three moves. Is he really that formidable?"

Yuan Jun stuck out his neck, licked his teeth with his tongue, and displayed a fierce expression...

Daily thanks to the good brothers who generously donate, cast monthly tickets, recommend tickets, and silently read the book for their strong support!

(End of Chapter)