Cheng Mingyue had felt uneasy all evening—her eyelids had been twitching since they left home. She couldn't help but warn Lin Dalong repeatedly: "Be careful. Don't draw attention.

Once someone buys it, we leave immediately."

After being nagged the whole way, Dalong was growing impatient. "I know, I know! Stop going on about it. I'm not a little kid anymore. Relax."

They wandered around the black market, not daring to openly offer the TV voucher. Eventually, a man in a woolen Mao suit approached them. With a pen in his breast pocket and black-framed glasses, he looked educated and trustworthy. He asked Dalong directly if he had a television voucher.

Cheng Mingyue gave a slight nod—he seemed legitimate. She motioned for Dalong to negotiate.

Not wanting to lose even ten yuan, Dalong boldly asked for three hundred. To his surprise, the man agreed and led him to a quieter spot to make the exchange.

Dalong watched as the man counted out thirty ten-yuan bills, rolled them up, and held them in his hand. Instead of handing over the money, the man said, "Let me see the voucher first. I need to make sure it's genuine. No funny business."

As Dalong reached into his pocket to pull out the voucher, the man quickly slipped the rolled-up cash into his hand. "Alright, you seem like an honest kid. Here's the money—take care of it."

With that, he turned and hurried away, glancing around as if worried about being seen. Nervous, Dalong clutched the money and rushed back to his mother.

Cheng Mingyue had stayed back to keep watch, ready to warn him if authorities showed up. When she saw her son returning excitedly, she asked, "Did you get the money?"

Dangling the roll of cash, Dalong grinned. "All three hundred! We even made a profit!"

Cheng Mingyue took the money and began counting. But as she unrolled the bills, her heart sank. Inside was a single ten-yuan note wrapped around a stack of newspaper cut to the same size.

Dalong stared in disbelief. "How... How did this happen? I saw him counting real money!"

Furious and dizzy with anger, Cheng Mingyue grabbed his arm. "Are you sure you were watching? How could this happen? What exactly did you see?"

Dalong replayed the moment in his mind—he'd only looked down for a second to fetch the voucher. He never saw any switch. "It's impossible, Mom! I saw real money!"

He snatched the roll back, desperately searching through the newspaper strips as if the real cash might still be there. He was on the verge of tears. "I don't understand..."

Feeling sick over the loss, Cheng Mingyue dragged him through the market. "We have to find him. Maybe he hasn't left yet."

They searched all night until the market closed at daybreak, but the man was nowhere to be found.

Clutching the worthless paper, Cheng Mingyue wanted to cry. Instead, she hit Dalong again and again on the arm. "What is wrong with you? I told you to be careful! That was over two hundred yuan—three months of our wages!"

Dalong was just as frustrated. "I was careful! I kept my eyes on him the whole time!"

Defeated, Cheng Mingyue sighed. "Let's just go home."

Dalong shot one last angry look at the now-empty market. "This isn't over."

Not far away, tucked in a narrow alley, Lin Wenbin watched them leave.

Beside him stood the man in the Mao suit, now looking much less refined and rather pleased with himself. He handed the TV voucher to Wenbin. "That was brilliant, Lin. Haven't pulled that trick in years."

Wenbin smirked but didn't take the voucher. "Keep it. It's useless to me. But watch your back—that kid might come looking for revenge."

The man waved a hand dismissively. "Him? That little punk? Let him try."

"Just don't kill him," Wenbin said lightly. He wasn't running a gang, after all—no need for corpses.

"Don't worry, Lin. I know what I'm doing. This family got on your bad side? Then they're on mine too. Crushing them will be like stepping on ants."

Wenbin slid his hands into his pockets and smiled. "Keep an eye out for any yellow goods on the market lately, will you?"

"You got it, boss. Take care."

As Wenbin walked away, the man couldn't help but admire him. This guy had an uncanny sense for what would make money next. Whatever he pointed at soon turned profitable. He had earned the man's total loyalty.

Back at home, with Zhou Xiaoling around, time flew for Lin Xiaoxiao. The girl was a whirlwind of energy. Right after the Lantern Festival, she decided she wanted to plant a tree in the yard.

Zhou Liyun tried to reason with her. "Who plants trees at this time of year? The ground's still half-frozen!"

But Xiaoling had it all planned out. "A cherry tree! By May or June, when the cherries are ripe, Qiangqiang, Xuanyuan, and An'an will be old enough to try them."

Liyun sighed. "They'll only be a few months old—they won't be eating cherries! And you can't just plant a tree now—it won't survive."

Xiaoling ignored her, grabbed a new shovel from the shed, and marched outside.

Xiaoxiao, who was moving around the living room, asked curiously, "Where is she going to dig up a cherry tree?"

Li Yunlan understood her daughter well. "She's probably going to the Geng's place to steal one. Last night, after you fell asleep, your aunt accidentally mentioned that the Gengs set off firecrackers at our gate during the wedding to provoke us."

Xiaoxiao was shocked. "So she's going to dig up their cherry tree?"

Li Yunlan seemed almost supportive. "That cherry tree was actually stolen by Xiaoling from the Air Force compound when she was little. She gave one to Geng Aiguo to stop him from tattling. Every time they argued after that, she threatened to take it back. She never did—until now."

This time, Geng Aiguo had gone too far.

Xiaoxiao wished she could go watch the drama, but she was still confined indoors. "You don't think they'll get into a fight, do you?"

Li Yunlan shook her head. "Geng Aiguo was never any match for Xiaoling. Besides, the adults wouldn't dare make a scene."

Meanwhile, Zhou Xiaoling marched toward the Geng residence, shovel on her shoulder, ready to reclaim what was hers.