Chapter 180: The Greatest Concealment Lies in the City

The little girl named Zhenzhu was eating very seriously. No child could resist sweets—she even ate the watermelon rind. How could her family ever have had such a delicious melon?

Her father worked at a recycling station, and his wages weren’t high. But with just the two of them to feed, their life wasn’t terribly difficult—at least they weren’t going hungry.

What made Zhou Yimin feel ashamed was that he had left the most flesh on his rind.

He was eating watermelon the way people did in the future—only eating the sweet part in the center, and not even bothering to bite into the layer close to the rind.

In the later era, that wouldn’t have been a big deal, and definitely not some so-called “Dubai style” of extravagance. That’s just how most people ate.

But here and now, it felt a bit wasteful.

In Director Li’s eyes, even the discarded part of Zhou Yimin’s rind could be stir-fried into a dish!

Still, the watermelon had been brought by Zhou Yimin himself. And given their relationship with him, no one said anything to his face. They resisted the urge to lecture him.

“Yimin, that song from your courtyard—I heard it. It’s excellent. The three uncles in your compound said it was your composition,” Director Li said.

She had overheard the children rehearsing it in the courtyard and was completely blown away.

She was nearly certain that Courtyard No. 56 would be chosen to represent their street in the district’s cultural performance showcase.

Zhou Yimin replied modestly, “Unfortunately, I don’t play any instruments, so I only came up with the lyrics and melody. It’s not professional.”

Yet that imperfection made Director Li feel like it was more authentic.

If Zhou Yimin could do everything and was great at it all, that would be beyond belief.

Even now, everyone already thought he was unusually talented.

“So the neighborhood office wants to bring in someone to polish it up. They wanted to get your opinion.” That was the real reason Director Li had come today.

She had a feeling that once the song was released, it would cause a sensation and quickly become popular. When that happened, their street would rise in reputation and win praise from above.

Zhou Yimin nodded. “No problem! That’s what I was hoping for anyway, but I don’t know anyone in that field.”

Director Li smiled. “We’ve got someone like that right here. After we eat, I’ll take you to meet him.”

So, Zhou Yimin got himself a free meal at Director Li’s home.

After dinner, Director Li told Zhenzhu to stay and play in the courtyard, assuring her that her father would come pick her up later. Then she set off with Zhou Yimin to find the music professional.

Zhou Yimin had imagined that someone involved in music would have refined tastes and high standards for their living conditions—after all, they were an artist.

He never expected the person to be living in the most run-down of shared courtyard houses.

The moment they stepped in, the first thing Zhou Yimin thought of was the slum tenement from a Stephen Chow kung fu movie. It wasn’t as tall, but it was just as chaotic—a hodgepodge of structures thrown together.

Kids ran around naked. Women and elderly ladies sat in groups, chatting and laughing, doing laundry, stitching shoe soles, gluing matchboxes, sorting vegetables…

“He lives here?” Zhou Yimin couldn’t help but ask.

Director Li had just said the man was incredibly talented in music. Zhou Yimin had imagined some kind of music maestro. This was giving real hidden master in the city vibes.

As the two of them walked in, the courtyard quieted down noticeably. People started to glance in their direction.

Director Li nodded. “His situation is a bit unusual. You’ll understand when you meet him.”

It was clear she admired the man, which piqued Zhou Yimin’s curiosity even more.

The adults in the courtyard all recognized Director Li and called out greetings.

She responded to each one, even calling several by name.

Zhou Yimin was impressed. In the future, this sort of thing would be rare.

This was what it truly meant to serve the people.

“Granny Shen, how’s your health these days?” Director Li wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, she started chatting with one of the elderly women in the yard.

The old lady smiled. “Doing well, thanks to the government’s care.”

Then, after answering Director Li’s question, her gaze shifted to Zhou Yimin. She looked at him as though admiring a fine piece of art.

“Young man, what’s your name? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Director Li was speechless—she knew the old woman’s “occupational habit” was kicking in again.

That’s right—Granny Shen used to be a professional matchmaker.

She was also a martyr’s family member. Both her sons and one grandson had died in service, and another grandson was missing.

The government had arranged proper housing for her, originally planning to move her to a more comfortable siheyuan. But she refused, worried that if she moved, her missing grandson wouldn’t be able to find his way home.

In the end, they had to respect her wishes and let her stay here.

Still, the neighborhood office regularly sent staff to check on her, and had even asked the courtyard’s residents to keep an eye out and care for her.

Zhou Yimin smiled. “Granny, my name is Zhou Yimin, and yes, I have a girlfriend.”

The old lady sighed with regret.

After a few more words, Director Li led Zhou Yimin to one of the houses at the back of the courtyard. As they walked, she told him more about Granny Shen’s background.

Zhou Yimin had been in this time period for over a month now, and stories like this no longer surprised him.

During World War II, over 18 million Chinese died, not to mention the casualties from the civil war and the Korean War.

Too many had perished. Cases like Granny Shen’s were all too common.

“Here we are—this is the place.”

Zhou Yimin glanced around. The interior was small, barely ten square meters, but it was spotless and meticulously organized. It was clear the occupant had a bit of OCD.

In fact, it looked a bit out of place in the rest of the courtyard.

Still, Zhou Yimin couldn’t see a single musical instrument.

“Hanyuan, got a moment?” Director Li called cheerfully.

Zhou Yimin noticed the man inside the room was disabled. He was likely the “music master” Director Li had mentioned.

“Big Sis Li, you know me—nothing much to do these days. Come in, have a seat. There are stools there, though they’re a bit small,” said Jin Hanyuan, gesturing to a few little folding stools.

Neither Zhou Yimin nor Director Li minded.

Director Li got to the point. “Here’s the thing—we’ve come to ask you for a favor…”

“Lyrics and melody already done?” Jin Hanyuan looked surprised.

To him, those were the hardest parts of composing music. Usually, once those were in place, a song was more or less set.

Director Li nodded. “All done. Yimin, sing it for him.”

Zhou Yimin hummed the song.

He wasn’t a great singer—just very average, really.

Even Director Li couldn’t help but roast him: “Your singing’s worse than the kids in your courtyard.”

Zhou Yimin held out his hands in surrender.

I never said I could sing! The fact that I stayed on pitch is already good enough. Don’t expect too much.

(End of Chapter)