Kill the beasts in the courtyard, I fled to Hong Kong, surrounded by beauties on both sides.

Chen Fei was woken up by hunger.

A sharp pain in his stomach, like a hand clenching tightly inside, jolted him awake from his sleep. He opened his eyes to find it already bright daylight; sunlight streamed through the window covered with old newspapers, casting dappled shadows on the muddy ground.

He struggled to sit up, feeling dizzy. He had only eaten two meals of thin corn porridge yesterday, which was far from enough.

We need to get something to eat.

Chen Fei remembered the cornmeal hidden in the earthenware jar under his bed; it was his last remaining food. He struggled to get out of bed, squatted down, and reached for the broken jar.

When I reached in, all I touched was the empty bottom of the jar.

Chen Fei's heart sank, and he dragged the entire earthenware pot out. The pot was completely empty, not even a crumb of flour remained.

It was stolen.

He stared at the empty can, his gaze gradually turning cold. He knew without a doubt who had done it—Bang Geng. That kid was a thief; who in the neighborhood hadn't been robbed by him?

Chen Fei stood up and walked to the door. He pushed it open, and the courtyard was quiet; most people had already gone to work or school. Only Jia Zhangshi sat at her door, holding needlework in her hands. When she saw him come out, a smug glint flashed in her triangular eyes.

"Oh, you're up?" Jia Zhangshi said sarcastically. "Weren't you quite assertive last night? What, not eating today?"

Chen Fei ignored her and walked straight to the water vat. The water in the vat was almost gone, so he scooped up the last ladleful and gulped it down. The cold water temporarily suppressed his hunger, but soon his stomach felt even emptier.

"Hmph, what are you pretending for?" Jia Zhangshi curled her lip. "They're so poor they can't even afford food, yet they cling to those meager possessions. Serves them right!"

Chen Fei turned around and looked at her: "Did you know that my cornmeal was stolen?"

Jia Zhangshi paused, then shrieked, "What do you mean? You suspect my son Banggeng? Let me tell you, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't say whatever you want! Do you have any evidence?"

"My grain is locked inside the house, and the doors and windows are all closed. Who could come in unless they know someone well?" Chen Fei stared at her. "Everyone in the neighborhood knows who's dishonest."

"You're talking nonsense!" Madam Jia stood up. "If you spout any more rubbish, I'll tear your mouth apart!"

Chen Fei was too lazy to argue with her and turned to go back into the house.

He knew that reasoning with Jia Zhangshi was useless. This old woman was a master at throwing tantrums and acting unreasonably; without evidence, there was no way to deal with her.

After closing the door, Chen Fei leaned against it, feeling utterly powerless.

I'm so hungry.

The original owner's body was already weak, and after two days without proper food, he was nearing his limit. If this continued, he would starve to death on his own, even before the beasts could force him.

We need to figure out a way to get some food.

Chen Fei felt his pocket; there was only one yuan left—the life-saving money the original owner had hidden in his shoe insole. He had spent a few cents on food yesterday, leaving him with a little over one yuan.

Go to the black market? Food is expensive on the black market; a dollar won't buy much. Besides, you have to be careful going to the black market. If you get caught, it's considered "speculation and profiteering," and you'll go to jail.

Go to the subdistrict office for help? Director Wang already said yesterday that she can't help much. The grain ration book is in Yi Zhonghai's hands, and the subdistrict office can't force him to take it.

Reporting stolen grain to the police station? That's a trivial matter; the police station won't even bother with it. Besides, what can they do without evidence?

For the first time, Chen Fei felt how terrifying this era was.

In modern society, no matter how poor or struggling he is, he could at least work on a construction site or wash dishes in a restaurant, somehow managing to earn a living. But here, without food coupons, even money can't buy food. Without a job, he doesn't even have the right to survive.

He walked to the bedside and sat down, looking at the family photo on the wall.

In the photo, the father, Chen Jianguo, smiles warmly, the mother, Li Xiulan, is gentle, and the younger sister, Chen Xiaoyu, is innocent. The family of four looks happy and harmonious.

But now, he's all alone.

"Dad, Mom, Xiaoyu..." Chen Fei murmured, "What should I do?"

No one answered him.

The room was deathly silent.

Morning: Desperate plea for help

Chen Fei decided to go out and try his luck.

He walked out of the courtyard house with his last dollar in his pocket. The alley was bustling with people, mostly workers on their way to work, lunchboxes hanging from the handlebars. Occasionally, a woman carrying a vegetable basket would hurry by.

Chen Fei swallowed hard and walked towards the neighborhood office.

Inside the neighborhood office, Director Wang was organizing documents. Seeing Chen Fei enter, she sighed, "Little Chen, what's wrong now?"

"Director Wang, the last bit of food in my family's harvest has been stolen," Chen Fei said. "Now we can't even afford to eat."

Director Wang frowned: "Stolen? Who stole it?"

"I don't know." Chen Fei didn't say he suspected Bang Geng, "but all the doors and windows in my house are closed, and only acquaintances can get in."

Director Wang fell silent. She knew what was going on in the hospital, but as a street-level official, she couldn't jump to conclusions.

"Here's what we'll do," Director Wang said, "I'll give you a certificate so you can borrow some emergency grain from the grain station. But you have to pay it back; it'll be deducted from your household ration next month."

Emergency rations? Chen Fei smiled bitterly to himself. His family's grain ration book was in Yi Zhonghai's hands, and even if they were to collect their rations next month, the ration coupons still wouldn't reach him.

But this is the only option at the moment.

"Thank you, Director Wang." Chen Fei accepted the certificate.

After leaving the neighborhood office, he headed towards the grain station. The grain station was located on Gulou West Street, a row of single-story buildings with a long queue outside. People held their ration books and bags, waiting to buy grain.

Chen Fei was at the back of the line, with more than a dozen people ahead of him. He was so hungry that he could only stand by leaning against the wall.

After waiting in line for more than half an hour, it was finally his turn.

A middle-aged woman stood at the window, her face expressionless: "Grain ration book."

"I didn't bring my grain ration book." Chen Fei handed over a certificate from the neighborhood committee. "My family's grain was stolen, and Director Wang asked me to borrow some emergency grain."

The woman took the certificate, glanced at it, then looked up at him and asked, "How much do you want to borrow?"

"Borrow... five jin of cornmeal," Chen Fei said.

The woman made a note in the ledger, then scooped five jin of cornmeal from the flour vat behind her and put it into the cloth bag that Chen Fei had brought.

"It'll be deducted from your ration next month," the woman said. "Next."

Chen Fei carried five jin of cornmeal out of the grain station. His hands were heavy, but his heart felt empty.

Five pounds of cornmeal, if eaten sparingly, can last a week. But what happens after a week?

He carried the grain back home, and as he passed the state-run grocery store, he saw several baskets of cabbage displayed at the entrance. The cabbage cost three cents a pound, but you needed a ration coupon.

Chen Fei felt the few cents in his pocket, hesitated for a moment, and still didn't buy anything.

He has to be careful with his money.

It was already noon when I returned to the courtyard. The aroma of food wafted through the courtyard, and several families were cooking.

Chen Fei went into the communal kitchen, but no one was there. He took out his small pot, scooped out two spoonfuls of cornmeal, added water to make a paste, and put it on the coal stove to cook.

The fire was blazing, and the simmering paste quickly began to bubble. Chen Fei sprinkled in some salt and stirred it with a spoon.

It was very simple food, but it was delicious to him after he hadn't eaten for two days.

He carried the pot back to his room, closed the door, and began to eat heartily.

The cornmeal porridge was coarse and scratchy, but he ate it quickly. After finishing a bowl, his stomach finally felt a little full, and the cramping pain subsided.

After finishing his meal, he sat on the bed, looking at the remaining cornmeal.

It weighs over four pounds. If you eat half a pound a day, it will last for eight or nine days. What happens after eight or nine days?

He must find a way to survive during this period.

Noon: Clues about Old Liu

In the afternoon, Chen Fei decided to go out for a walk to see if there were any opportunities.

He walked out of the courtyard house and wandered aimlessly through the alleyways. In those days, jobs were assigned; private individuals weren't allowed to run businesses. Finding work was incredibly difficult for him.

As he walked, he arrived near Shichahai.

In early spring, the ice on Shichahai Lake had not yet completely melted, and the willows along the shore were just sprouting buds. Several children were playing on the ice, while adults watched from the shore.

Chen Fei found a stone bench, sat down, and stared blankly at the lake.

He thought of his younger sister, Chen Xiaoyu. In the original owner's memories, Xiaoyu loved to come to Shichahai Lake. In spring, they would admire the willows; in summer, they would go boating; in autumn, they would collect fallen leaves; and in winter, they would go ice skating.

But now, Xiaoyu is gone.

He was pushed down by the stick.

Chen Fei clenched his fists. That little bastard, stealing, pushing people into the water, and even daring to call Xiaoyu a "worthless brat."

Keeping a child like that around is just asking for trouble.

But Chen Fei is currently unable to take revenge. He can't even support himself.

Just then, an old voice came from beside him: "Young man, you don't look well. Are you hungry?"

Chen Fei turned his head and saw an old man collecting scraps sitting on a stone bench next to him. The old man was over sixty years old, with gray hair, wearing a tattered cotton-padded jacket, and carrying a bamboo basket filled with waste paper, bottles and other items.

"It's alright," Chen Fei said.

The old man took a roasted sweet potato out of his pocket, broke it in half, and handed it to him: "Here, have some."

Chen Fei paused for a moment, then didn't answer.

"Take it," the old man said. "I've seen you sitting here for ages, and your eyes are all glazed over. I know what it's like to be hungry."