After sensing something unusual about the Deaf Old Lady, He Jin didn't hesitate. He directed his awareness underground once more.
Sure enough, about three meters below the house, he discovered a hidden chamber—small but solidly constructed. Inside sat twelve large wooden chests covered in dust. It was obvious no one had entered for a very long time.
Carefully examining the contents, he found that one chest was filled with gold bricks, two contained gold bars, and the remaining nine were packed with jewelry, antique porcelain, paintings, calligraphy, and old books.
He couldn't help but marvel at the old lady's immense wealth.
Without further delay, he transferred all twelve chests—along with the jade jewelry box from the bedside cabinet—into his secret space.
After another thorough sweep of the house, he found nothing that could clearly reveal her identity. With a faint sigh, he let go of his curiosity.
As long as she wasn't some kind of spy, her past—whether noble-born or once a powerful man's concubine—no longer mattered.
She didn't have many years left. Even if he uncovered the truth, what would it change?
Looking at the frail, aged woman one last time, He Jin suddenly felt a trace of conscience stir. Since he had taken so much from her, perhaps before leaving Beijing he would cook a few good meals for her—consider it compensation.
He wasn't worried she would be left destitute. As a "Five Guarantees" beneficiary, the local office provided her with five yuan and ration coupons every month. Combined with the small amount of cash and tickets he had left untouched, it would be enough for her remaining days.
As for the buried treasures—at her age, she had neither the strength nor the opportunity to spend them. Eventually, they would either benefit Yi Zhonghai or remain forever underground.
Better that he make use of them.
Soon after, He Jin phased near the rolling mill, then reappeared in a visible state, walking casually toward the entrance as if he had just arrived. He greeted the guards and strolled in confidently.
Watching his retreating back, the younger guard on the left couldn't help but sneer.
"Heh, that Sha Zhu. Always late. Acts like he's more important than the leaders."
The older guard frowned slightly. "You just called him 'Sha Zhu'—what do you expect? If he were clever, would he still be like this? Still, he's got skills. The leadership can't do without him."
He added with a sigh, "If he knew how to conduct himself better, he wouldn't still be just an eighth-level cook after all these years."
The younger guard nodded eagerly. "Exactly. If I had his cooking skills, even if I couldn't become cafeteria director, I'd at least reach sixth level—sixty-plus yuan a month with subsidies."
Lowering his voice, he continued, "He makes a little over thirty now and struts around like a peacock. Insisted on marrying someone educated and pretty. Now he's over thirty and still unmarried—ended up tangled with that widow Qin. Raising someone else's kid, no less. You think those boys will support him when he's old?"
The older guard didn't disagree, but he didn't like gossiping. "Enough. Not our business. Maybe he's happy with it."
Seeing no interest in continuing, the younger one laughed awkwardly. "Heh, fair enough. Hey, Brother Li—how about drinks after work?"
Brother Li shot him a look. "You paying?"
The young man scratched his head sheepishly. "You know my situation… wages all go to the wife. I'm a bit short."
Brother Li chuckled. "Fine, I'll cover it this time. But next time, you're treating."
"Deal! Thanks, Brother Li!"
—
He Jin had no idea he had just been discussed again. Even if he did, he wouldn't care.
They weren't wrong.
The original owner's reputation around Nanluoguxiang and the rolling mill was thoroughly tarnished.
If he stayed in the courtyard and factory, even with a changed soul, marriage prospects would be slim.
Thankfully, the existence of his secret realm had given him the confidence to head south to Hong Kong. Otherwise, even moving neighborhoods wouldn't help much.
In this era, you could change where you lived—but not your work unit so easily. And without stable employment, survival wasn't possible.
If anyone inquired at the rolling mill about him, what decent girl would agree to marry?
He shook his head inwardly.
The original Sha Zhu truly had dug his own grave. He Jin had once pitied the character in his previous life, but now he saw more clearly: while Yi Zhonghai and Qin Huairu bore responsibility for Sha Zhu's tragic fate, the man himself wasn't blameless.
Arriving at the familiar back kitchen, he hadn't even sat down when his apprentice, Fatty, rushed over with freshly brewed tea.
"Master, you're here! Tea's ready—please."
Ma Hua followed respectfully. "Good morning, Master."
He Jin nodded with mild satisfaction. "Mm. Thoughtful."
He accepted the tea and sipped slowly.
Their attentiveness had a reason.
In recent weeks, they had noticed a change in him. He was now teaching them sincerely, holding nothing back.
They didn't understand why—but they weren't about to question good fortune. Afraid he might revert to his old stinginess, they treated him with increasing respect, eager to absorb as much skill as possible.
After finishing his tea, He Jin glanced at the two still hovering nearby.
"What? Nothing to do?"
They hurriedly shook their heads. "No, Master."
He rolled his eyes. "Then get to work. Call me when it's time to stir-fry the tea. I'll guide you then."
"Yes, Master!"
"We'll get to it right away!"
They beamed and hurried off to the stoves.
His indifferent attitude didn't dampen their spirits in the slightest.
On the contrary, they seemed more motivated than ever.