Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

Qin Huairu's "truth or dare" night became the darkest and most dramatic chapter in the history of the courtyard house.

The wind that night seemed much colder than usual, and it felt like knives on people's faces.

The next day, the sun rose as usual, but the sunlight seemed to have lost its warmth, and the entire courtyard was shrouded in an eerie, suffocating atmosphere of deathly silence.

The doors and windows of every household were tightly shut, as if they were hiding some unspeakable secret, or as if they were afraid of something. The usual morning hustle and bustle, the children's laughter, and the housewives' greetings had all vanished, replaced by a stagnant atmosphere and a stifling silence.

Yi Zhonghai was rushed to the hospital overnight.

When they took him away, it was quite a commotion. It was his second uncle, Liu Haizhong, and his two sons who carried him out on a worn-out reclining chair. Yi Zhonghai was limp, his eyes closed, his face ashen like a piece of waterlogged paper. An old woman was wailing and wailing beside him; her voice carried far in the quiet night, sending chills down one's spine.

The official explanation given to the public is that he was "emotionally agitated and his old illness relapsed," and he needs to "rest" in the hospital for a period of time.

But everyone knew perfectly well that this old man, who had been the undisputed ruler of the courtyard for over twenty years, had been completely broken by Qin Huairu's piercing "truth" and He Yuanchao's relentless barrage of attacks.

He lay on the pristine white hospital bed, the white ceiling and walls blending seamlessly, stinging his eyes. In his mind, what echoed repeatedly wasn't the doctor's instructions, nor the old woman's weeping, but Qin Huairu's words: "What do I want from him? Just his meager salary, and for this house to belong to our little family when he's old?"

And then there was He Yuanchao's icy gaze, and those questions that tore his hypocritical mask to shreds.

It’s over.

It's all over.

All the prestige and reputation he had painstakingly cultivated his entire life, his "nobility" hidden deep in his heart that he himself almost believed to be true, along with his shrewd calculations for his own old age and funeral, were ruthlessly exposed that one night. Then, like a pile of garbage, they were thrown into the middle of the yard, left for people to watch and spit on.

He could imagine what the people in the courtyard were saying about him now.

He was no longer the respected old man; he had become a joke, a senile old fool manipulated by a widow.

He couldn't catch his breath and started coughing violently again, curling up into a ball on the hospital bed.

This time, it's truly all for naught, all for naught.

Sha Zhu is sick too.

It's not a physical illness, but an illness branded in the heart, deep in the bones, incurable by any medicine.

He locked himself inside the room, with the doors and windows tightly shut and the curtains drawn tight, not letting a single ray of sunlight in.

He neither ate nor drank, nor spoke a word.

He heard his younger sister, He Yushui, knocking on the door for a long time, from her anxious shouts to her tearful pleas, but he just didn't want to move, nor could he.

He lay there stiffly on the bed, his eyes wide open, staring intently at the cobweb-covered ceiling, his gaze empty and unfocused.

He was like a bull that was invincible in the arena, but at the last moment, it was castrated by its master. In an instant, it lost all its spirit and energy, leaving only an empty shell.

Qin Huairu's words played on repeat in his mind like a never-ending broken record.

"He's not even worthy to carry your shoes!"

"No matter what, He Yuanchao is a capable and principled man. What is Sha Zhu? He's not even worthy of carrying your shoes!"

Unworthy...

Not even worthy to carry shoes...

Hahaha.

Sha Zhu's lips curled into a smile that looked even uglier than a grimace.

He thought about all the effort he had put in over the years.

He regarded Qin Huairu as a fairy from heaven, as the entire meaning of his life. He willingly brought her lunchboxes, helped her family, fought with Xu Damao for her, and offended everyone in the compound for her. He felt that was love, protection, and a man's responsibility.

He thought that Sister Qin had feelings for him, but she couldn't tell him openly because Jia Dongxu was still bedridden and because of the three children. He kept waiting, believing that as long as he kept waiting, one day the clouds would part and the moon would shine through.

But the result?

It turns out he was just a fool who could be summoned at will and dismissed at will.

A fully functional, long-term meal ticket that doesn't cost a penny.

A piece of trash who isn't even worthy of carrying He Yuanchao's shoes.

This kind of spiritual torture, this blow of collapsing faith, was ten thousand times more fatal than falling into a cesspool or being fired by Deputy Factory Director Li. It was a complete denial from the depths of his soul, making him feel that he had lived the past twenty years as a joke.

"Brother! Open the door! Have something to eat, brother!"

He Yushui's voice outside the door was filled with despair.

Sha Zhu slowly closed his eyes, and two streams of hot tears flowed down his cheeks and into his messy hair.

Qin Huairu's life was naturally even more difficult.

If Yi Zhonghai and Sha Zhu are the protagonists of the tragedy, then she is the universally acknowledged, despicable and shameless culprit.

She became the hospital's true "public enemy" and a laughingstock.

She was afraid to go out.

Even when she went to the public toilet in the courtyard, she could feel the contemptuous, mocking, and gloating gazes coming from all directions, like poisoned steel needles, densely packed on her body, leaving her nowhere to hide.

She could hear the whispers, hushed but deliberately made sure she could hear them.

"Look at her, she's shameless."

"She really knows how to make a fool of an old man and a silly boy like that."

"Jia Dongxu must have had the worst luck in eight lifetimes to marry such a thing."

She wanted to go to the hospital to see Yi Zhonghai, to explain, to try and win him back. But as soon as she arrived at the hospital, she was stopped by an older woman with a broom in her hand and bloodshot eyes.

"You heartless, ungrateful wretch! How dare you show your face here! Get out! Get out of here!"

An older woman went berserk, wielding a broom and striking Qin Huairu relentlessly. She wasn't just putting on a show; she was really hitting her with all her might. Qin Huairu clutched her head and fled back to the backyard in a disheveled state. The broom stung her back, but the pain was nothing compared to the humiliation and despair she felt.

She wanted to apologize to Sha Zhu. She knew that Sha Zhu was her last lifeline; as long as she could keep Sha Zhu in check, her family wouldn't go completely out of work.

She walked to Sha Zhu's door, put on her most pitiful expression, and pleaded in her gentlest voice, "Zhu Zi, please open the door! Please let me explain. Yesterday I was just talking nonsense because I was drunk. Please don't take it to heart..."

In response, there was a loud bang from inside, as if something had been slammed against the door.

Then came a deathly silence.

She was completely abandoned by everyone and found herself in an unprecedented state of isolation and helplessness.

When she got home, she saw her husband, Jia Dongxu, lying on the bed, only able to make "ee-yah" sounds, his eyes filled with resentment. She also saw her three children crying incessantly because they were hungry, and the empty rice jar and vegetable basket.

A sense of utter despair overwhelmed Qin Huairu. She collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, her cries filled with anguish and helplessness, but she could no longer elicit any sympathy from anyone.

An old man fell down.

The power structure maintained by the courtyard house for more than 20 years collapsed suddenly, creating a huge vacuum.

Springtime in Uncle Er's bangs arrived without warning, yet as if it were destined.

He was like a poisonous mushroom that had been lying dormant in a dark, damp corner for countless years. After a storm that swept through the entire courtyard, he smelled the fragrance of power and eagerly, with all his might, opened his shiny, somewhat comical cap.

He felt every pore on his body relax and open up.

That old bastard Yi Zhonghai has finally fallen!

In his bangs, after so many years of hard work, he has finally made it big!

He began to devote himself to the great cause of "managing" the courtyard house with unprecedented enthusiasm and energy.

His first task upon taking office was to establish his authority and, at the same time, test the waters among the households in the courtyard.

He organized a fundraising event to "visit and comfort an elderly man".

One evening, he moved a small stool to the center of the courtyard, cleared his throat, and used what he thought was a loud voice to call a short meeting.

"Comrades, neighbors! An old man is sick, very sick! Our courtyard is a united and loving community, we can't just stand by and do nothing! I propose that we all contribute money if we have it, and help him if we have the strength, to donate some money and buy him some nutritional supplements. What is this called? This is called providing timely help, demonstrating the neighborly friendship in our courtyard!"

He spoke in a grand and dignified manner, and then, amidst the complex gazes of the crowd, he rummaged in his pocket for a long time before pulling out two one-mao banknotes and solemnly placing them into a red tin box.

I took the lead and donated two cents myself.

Then, he took the box and went door-to-door to "persuade people to donate".

At each doorway, he would speak very nicely, claiming it was to "show neighborly affection," but his protruding belly and sidelong glances clearly said: I'm watching, whether you donate or not, and how much you donate, I'll keep track of it all.

This was actually a test of each household's "obedience" to him.

At Yan Bugui's house, the third uncle stingily pulled out five cents, muttering, "Haizhong, things are tough at home lately..."

Liu Haizhong looked at him with a forced smile: "Oh, Uncle San, a people's teacher, your awareness is so high! Five cents is just a token of my appreciation!" He emphasized the words "high awareness" so much that Yan Bugui's old face turned red.

When it was the other residents' turn, everyone was extremely annoyed, but no one wanted to be the first to do it, so they could only hold their noses and donate a few cents or dimes.

Looking at the increasing amount of small bills and coins in the tin box, Liu Haizhong felt a great sense of satisfaction. He felt that he had initially grasped the situation in the courtyard.

Next, in order to consolidate his power, he went on to formulate a series of "brilliant" rules for the academy.

He somehow got hold of a large sheet of white paper, and with a brush, he wrote crooked rules and regulations all over it, then solemnly pasted it on the most conspicuous wall in the courtyard.

Regulations on Civilized and Hygienic Management of Courtyard Houses (Trial Implementation)

1. The usage time of the public water pool shall be allocated by household, with time slots in the morning, noon and evening. If any household exceeds the time limit by even one minute, a fine of one cent shall be imposed.

Second, the sanitation of the courtyard should be divided into zones and assigned to specific households. Anyone whose area in front of their house is not clean will be publicly criticized at a general meeting of the entire courtyard. If this happens three times in a row, they will be disqualified from being selected as an advanced individual at the end of the year.

Third, the height and length of the clotheslines used for drying clothes must be uniform and must not exceed the prescribed standards, so as not to affect the appearance of the courtyard.

4. It is forbidden to pile up miscellaneous items in the public areas of the compound, including but not limited to coal briquettes, honeycomb briquettes, broken furniture, etc.

5. After 9 p.m., all households should keep quiet and refrain from loud noise. Those watching TV or listening to the radio should consciously turn down the volume.

……

There are more than a dozen entries.

His most important job every day was to walk around the yard with his hands behind his back, his signature, seven-month pregnant belly protruding.

His eyes, sharp as an eagle's, scanned every corner.

"Hey! What's with that pickled vegetable jar on your windowsill? The regulations say you can't leave things lying around like that! Put it away right now!"

"Hey, Auntie! Your clothesline is three centimeters too high! I've told you so many times, everything needs to be uniform! You need to have a sense of teamwork!"

"Hey kid, stop running around in the yard! You're kicking up dust that we all have to sweep up! Go home!"

If he sees anyone doing something slightly out of line with his "rules," he immediately puts on his greasy face and launches into a stern, bureaucratic reprimand, using grand terms like "regulations," "rules," and "collective" in every word, thoroughly indulging in the feeling of being the "top leader."

Although the residents of the courtyard were full of complaints and curses behind his back, feeling that he was even more troublesome and annoying than Yi Zhonghai in the past, they could only endure it silently, intimidated by his status as "Second Uncle" and the fact that no one dared to challenge him after Yi Zhonghai's downfall.

Liu Haizhong felt that his life had reached its glorious peak at this moment.

He even started fantasizing that once he had firmly established himself in the courtyard, he might be able to go out and lobby the local authorities to try and get a government position.

However, he soon discovered that his newly acquired and intoxicating sense of power was not invincible in this courtyard.

There is one person who is completely untouched by his "institutional rules" and "official authority."

——He Yuanchao.

He Yuanchao continued to do as he pleased, as if all the commotion in the courtyard had nothing to do with him.

Every morning, he rides his gleaming old-fashioned bicycle to work at breakneck speed, facing the rising sun.

In the evening, accompanied by the setting sun, I leisurely returned home, humming a little tune.

At night, the enticing aroma of meat always wafts from his house first—stewed chicken, braised pork, rib soup… The smells spread through the cracks in the door, filling the entire backyard, making the children's mouths water, and leaving families who could only afford to eat cornbread with mixed feelings.

After dinner, the snowflake-brand black-and-white television was turned on on time, and the sounds of news, movies, and TV dramas came through clearly.

The Yan brothers, Yan Jiecheng and Yan Jiefang, along with He Yushui, remained his loyal followers. Every evening, they would arrive at his house on time, gathering together to watch TV, learn about culture, and occasionally burst into laughter. Their harmonious atmosphere stood in stark contrast to the lifeless atmosphere elsewhere in the courtyard.

Liu Haizhong tried to find fault several times.

He looked at the pile of coal briquettes in front of He Yuanchao's house, which, although neatly arranged, was still there, and felt that this seriously violated the fourth regulation he had set.

Hearing the television coming from He Yuanchao's house, he felt that it seriously affected the "neighbors' rest" and violated Article 5.

He had to teach this young man a lesson, let him know who was in charge in this courtyard now! He had to make an example of him to establish his absolute authority!

He had been building up his emotions for several days, and finally, one night, he mustered up his courage.

He coughed twice on purpose, straightened his collar, straightened his back, and strode towards He Yuanchao's house in the backyard.

But every time he reached He Yuanchao's door and saw the tightly closed, newly painted door, his steps became incredibly heavy.

In his mind, He Yuanchao's cold, sharp eyes, which seemed to see right through people, would uncontrollably appear.

I recall the scene where he silenced Yi Zhonghai at the hospital-wide meeting.

I'll remember his terrifying skills; he kicked Sha Zhu away with a single kick.

It will also remind you of that ruthless spirit of calling the police without hesitation or delay.

His newly inflated, self-important official arrogance was like an overinflated balloon, instantly punctured by an invisible needle the moment he saw the door.

With a "poof," all courage and prestige vanished completely.

He dare not.

He was saddened to discover that he, the newly appointed "number one" who had painstakingly climbed to the top, was utterly powerless in the face of this young man in his early twenties.

The rules he was so proud of were no different from waste paper to He Yuanchao.

This made Liu Haizhong feel extremely frustrated, humiliated, and angry.

That day, Liu Haizhong, as usual, patrolled the courtyard with his hands behind his back, his pent-up frustration finding nowhere to go.

Just then, he saw Xu Damao squatting in the middle courtyard, humming an off-key tune, holding a rag and carefully wiping his old bicycle, which was rattling and clanging everywhere except for the bell.

Liu Haizhong's eyes darted around, and a thought, like a venomous snake, crawled out from the depths of his heart.

He strolled over slowly, hands behind his back, adopting the air of a leader inspecting work, and said in a very official tone, "Da Mao, you look quite energetic. Work's been going well lately?"

"Oh dear, Second Uncle!"

Xu Damao looked up and saw Liu Haizhong. He quickly dropped the rag, stood up, and a fawning smile instantly appeared on his face. He even unconsciously bent his waist a little.

"Thanks to you, things are going well! It's all thanks to your excellent leadership! With you in charge, the institute is much more peaceful and orderly than before!"

This flattery made Liu Hai's heart flutter with joy. He nodded in satisfaction, thinking that Xu Damao, this "cultured man," was indeed perceptive.

He then changed the subject, his tone becoming more serious: "It's certainly quiet now, but the ideological awareness and discipline of some comrades still need improvement."

As he spoke, he subtly glanced out of the corner of his eye toward He Yuanchao's house in the backyard.

Who was Xu Damao? A shrewd and calculating person. He immediately understood what was troubling his second uncle.

He quickly stepped forward, lowered his voice, and adopted a sympathetic tone: "Second Uncle, you mean He Yuanchao from the backyard? Hey! That kid's got some nerve! Just because he's some lousy foreman at the factory and has a little money, he bought a beat-up bicycle and a crappy TV, right? Look how arrogant he is! He thinks everyone's superior, not even respecting you, the head of the compound! It's outrageous! It's typical individualism and hedonism at work!"

Xu Damao berated He Yuanchao so harshly that every word he said struck a chord with Liu Haizhong.

"Um."

Liu Haizhong nodded deeply, adopting an expression of "you're a promising student," and looked at Xu Damao.

"Da Mao, as one of the few 'cultured people' in our courtyard, and also a film projectionist, you've traveled all over the country, seen a lot, and are quick-witted. Do you think there's any good way to... teach him a lesson? Make him wake up, let him know who's in charge of this courtyard? We can't let this rotten apple spoil the whole bunch!"

Xu Damao's eyes darted around, and his rich experience in struggle instantly gave him a sinister and malicious idea.

He leaned close to Liu Haizhong's ear again and whispered something in a voice that only the two of them could hear.

His voice was soft, but the content of his words was like tiny hooks, tickling Liu Haizhong's heart.

Liu Haizhong's eyes grew brighter and brighter as he listened, his fleshy face trembling slightly with excitement. When Xu Damao finished speaking, he slapped his thick thigh hard, making a dull thud.

"Great! Damao, that's a brilliant idea! Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Let's do it that way! Don't worry, you just need to go and keep watch, and if anything goes wrong, I'll take the blame for you! If it's successful, I'll give you credit! And when the neighborhood is selecting outstanding families, I'll recommend you first!"

"Hehe, thank you so much for your guidance, Second Uncle! I'll definitely do a great job!"

Xu Damao grinned like a cat that had just stolen some fish, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

The two exchanged a knowing glance, both seeing a hint of glee in each other's eyes as their scheme was about to succeed.