Chapter 165: Storm

At first, Grandpa Dajiang was far from accustomed to a house full of red-haired, blue-eyed foreigners. Especially the younger foreign women, who tended to dress rather sparingly—revealing not only their thighs and shoulders, but sometimes their backs and chests as well. Whenever this happened, Grandpa Dajiang would retreat into the downstairs kitchen, refusing to go upstairs, and strictly forbidding his son and grandson from heading up either.

Hong Tao had no solution for the old man's habit. In this era, a woman's skirt could not be shorter than her knees, and it had to have sleeves that at least covered her shoulders; anything less was considered dissolute. Expecting an old man to suddenly remain indifferent to a large group of bare arms and legs was simply out of the question—it was something that had to be cultivated gradually.

"Little Tao, is this money count right for the last few days? The foreign exchange certificates seem to be a few dozen more than they should be. I've counted them several times. Why don't you help me check?" Not long after the restaurant opened, Grandpa Dajiang approached Hong Tao with a small ledger, a stack of Renminbi, and a bundle of foreign exchange certificates, asking him to help settle the accounts.

"...... It really is more. Did the tour guides give you all this money? Or was it left by the foreigners?" Hong Tao counted it, and sure enough, there was a surplus. Actually, there was no need to keep income logs for this restaurant; it served just two tables a day at two hundred yuan per table, making any other source of income impossible. Yet for several days, the money was either a dozen or several dozen yuan higher than expected.

"Sometimes the tour guides give it, and sometimes it's just left on the tables." Grandpa Dajiang understood Renminbi well enough, but whenever foreign exchange certificates were mixed in, he became a bit confused.

"Oh, that must be tips given to you. Foreigners have that habit. It's fine, treat it as your extra income and keep it." Hong Tao roughly figured out where the extra money came from. He guessed some foreigners, following the customs of their own countries, added a tip of about 10% to the total bill when paying.

"What's a tip?" Grandpa Dajiang was quite studious and insisted on getting a clear explanation.

"A tip is...... well, it's roughly... sort of like a reward from the old days. It means they were very satisfied with the dishes you cooked." Hong Tao explained the meaning of a tip using an analogy that the old man could easily grasp.

"Hehehehe... I never thought I'd receive a reward again in this lifetime. Back when I was learning my craft from my father, I also received rewards in the Prince's Mansion...... By the way, is this considered one of the 'Four Olds'?" The word "reward" evoked memories of Grandpa Dajiang's youth, but he quickly grew vigilant again.

"The Four Olds?! If you're afraid of that, just take a careful look around this room. Which item here isn't one of the Four Olds? Why don't we just set fire to the place and burn it down, what do you think?" Hong Tao truly admired the old man's associative ability; he hadn't said a word about the room full of antique-style furniture, yet he was suddenly on edge over a few dozen yuan.

"Don't do that! Our family's Dajiang still has to rely on this place to learn a trade and get a wife! And you know what? Your idea actually makes sense. These last few days, I had Dajiang's father teach him a few basics. Guess what? My grandson really is cut out for this work, much better than his old man was back when he was learning from me, hehehe... Who would have thought that a single word from you could save the second half of his life? Strictly speaking, you're his benefactor." Grandpa Dajiang no longer cared about the Four Olds or Four News; talking about his eldest grandson filled him with a bit of confidence for the very first time.

"A benefactor is a bit much. He's an honest fellow, and he probably wouldn't harm me in this lifetime. Having such a childhood friend is blessing enough. I just hope he doesn't end up marrying some shrew who ruins our brotherhood down the line. If that doesn't happen, I'll be completely content." Hong Tao had no intention of being anyone's benefactor. It wasn't that he had an addiction to doing good deeds anonymously; rather, the concept of a "favor" was hard to measure, and if mishandled, a favor could easily turn into a psychological burden.

"That won't happen! Don't you worry, as long as I'm still breathing, Dajiang's wife has to have my approval. That kind of overbearing, shrewish woman will definitely not step foot into the Zhang family's door. It's not just for your sake—after I'm gone and Dajiang is left on his own, I can't have him constantly suffering from his wife's temper!" Hearing Hong Tao mention the matter of a granddaughter-in-law, Grandpa Dajiang grew enthusiastic as well.

"Fine, I'll take your auspicious words for it. As for this money, don't write it in the ledger. It was given specifically to you. From ancient times to the present, nobody has ever heard of tips having to be split evenly across the shop counter! Just keep it for yourself, and have Second Uncle scout out a good mynah bird for you. He knows plenty of people who raise those things. Once it's trained, every single day the moment you open your eyes, it'll chirp: 'Good morning, Elder! Excellent teeth! Everything you eat tastes delicious!'" Hong Tao started finding tasks for Second Uncle again. He originally wanted to raise a mynah bird himself, but Second Uncle had claimed he lacked the patience to tend to it, and that any good bird would be ruined in his hands, flatly refusing to fetch him one. So now Hong Tao decided on an indirect approach: let Grandpa Dajiang raise it, while he would come over to play with it.

"Hahahaha, I think this plan works! Oh, right, if you hadn't mentioned it, I would have forgotten. Yesterday morning when I was buying meat outside Andingmen Gate, I saw Second Uncle pedaling his bicycle heading north. If I hadn't recognized that bike of his, I wouldn't have known it was him. He didn't return until late afternoon, covered in dust from head to toe. Looked like he had been running all over the place. What was he doing running off in that direction?" Reminisced about bird-raising, Grandpa Dajiang suddenly remembered Second Uncle and casually brought it up.

"Oh, he was probably out collecting old antiques there, or maybe checking out pigeons. Didn't I ask him to get me some pigeons to raise? Aren't there a lot of people raising pigeons outside the city?" Hearing Grandpa Dajiang's words, Hong Tao felt a slight jolt in his heart and quickly made up an excuse to gloss over it.

During the past few months, Hong Tao had been busy tinkering with models and renovating and opening the private restaurant, gradually neglecting the affairs of Han Xue and Lu Peng. Now calculating the time, August had already arrived, so why was there still no news about the Strike Hard campaign? Could it be that he had remembered incorrectly? That shouldn't be! Or had the world changed after his rebirth? Surely he didn't possess such immense energy!

"Second Uncle, September is right around the corner, why is there still no news?" Carrying this doubt, Hong Tao sought out Second Uncle, starting to feel a bit uncertain himself.

"You've been busy with all sorts of things these past few days and haven't had time to pay attention. I, on the other hand, have studied this carefully. I'm afraid the matter you mentioned might actually happen. Take a look—all of these are clippings I cut from newspapers, and over the past half year I've heard plenty of rumors. Not only are there growing incidents of fighting, thievery, and robbery in many places elsewhere, but right here under the Emperor's feet, things are becoming increasingly unsettled." Second Uncle lifted the cushion of the daybed he was sitting on, pulled out a large pile of newspaper scraps, and handed them to you—er, handed them to Hong Tao.

"I honestly couldn't tell. You even have intelligence-gathering skills. I'm starting to suspect you were an undercover spy." Hong Tao flipped through them roughly; they were mostly newspaper reports of criminal cases occurring across various provinces and cities nationwide. Since they made the papers, they were presumably major cases, and judging by the dates, the earliest ones went back to last year. This meant Second Uncle hadn't just collected this year's newspapers, but had specifically tracked down many old ones to read.

"Cut the nonsense! You shouldn't be in such a rush. Since you've already decided, waiting a few more months won't do you any harm. When I was chatting with our neighborhood police officer Zhou and Director Zhou, they brought this up too. Word is that the crime rate has been skyrocketing over the past two years, almost reaching a point where they can't keep it under control. The closer we get to such times, the more dangerous it is. In troubled times, use heavy penalties; once these heavy penalties come down, there won't be any distinction over whether you were truly causing trouble or not." Second Uncle reached out and tapped Hong Tao on the head, then shared what he had heard and thought with him. It seemed the old man's survival wasn't just a matter of good luck—his sharp mind played a crucial role.

Time quickly verified the folk proverb: an old person is cunning, an old horse is sly. Shortly after Second Uncle's voice trailed off, Hong Tao saw the first public notice of a death sentence posted in the alleyways, followed closely by major newspapers publishing the nation's *Decision Regarding the Severe Crackdown on Serious Criminal Offenses*, officially kicking off the prelude to the Strike Hard campaign.

As an ordinary citizen, one's perception of this movement was not necessarily profound. If none of your relatives or friends were swept up in it, you could only watch the excitement from newspapers and public notices, at most participating in study sessions organized by your work unit. Moreover, back then there were no networks, mobile phones, text messaging, or other instant communication channels, so unless you were directly involved, it was hard to realize it was a massive campaign.

Hong Tao was an ordinary citizen, but he was no ordinary person, because he possessed an exceptionally extraordinary brain. When everyone else treated these events as mere spectacles, he knew precisely what lay behind the excitement; otherwise, he wouldn't have taken the risk to arrange for Han Xue and Lu Peng to escape and avoid disaster.

Not long after, the school term began. When Hong Tao stepped into school once again, he was already a fifth-grade student. At the opening ceremony, Director Bai once again presented Hong Tao with a large certificate of merit and a fourteen-volume set of the encyclopedia *One Hundred Thousand Whys* in front of all the teachers and students. The aircraft carrier model he had crafted had won first place in the district competition, not only bringing honor to the school, but also being selected to be sent to the city level to participate in the national competition alongside entries chosen from other districts and counties.

Hong Tao's father was clearly much more interested in this award. To reward Hong Tao, his father fulfilled a long-standing request and bought him a twenty-four-inch women's bicycle. Hong Tao had asked for one many times in the past, but both his father and mother had refused—not because Hong Tao didn't know how to ride a bike, but because they feared that once he had one, his range of movement would expand, and the dangers he faced would grow correspondingly.