He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The train whistle was still ringing in his ears as He Yuyang stood at the entrance of Nanluoguxiang with his backpack, but suddenly felt a little dazed.

The road beneath our feet is no longer a bumpy dirt track, but a smooth cement road, and there is no longer any dust flying up when we walk on it. The walls on both sides of the alley are painted snow-white, and new drainage ditches have been built at the base of the walls. The heavy snow that caused water to freeze in front of every household last winter will probably never leave behind mud again.

He walked a few steps forward and saw that the old locust tree at the alley entrance was still there, but there was a small wooden sign on the trunk that read, "Protecting trees is everyone's responsibility." The stone blocks under the tree had been replaced with new ones; the old stone blocks, which had been worn smooth by the children, had been moved somewhere.

"This is... Nanluoguxiang?" he murmured to himself. The backpack straps were digging into his shoulders and making them ache, but it couldn't compare to the intense feeling of unfamiliarity he felt. He had left during the tail end of the Republic of China era, and returned in the fifth year of the People's Republic of China. Three years on the battlefield felt like half a lifetime had passed.

Just as he was lost in thought, a little girl with a ponytail and a schoolbag ran over, the red ribbon at the end of her ponytail bouncing merrily in the wind. When she saw He Yuyang, she stopped abruptly, staring at him with wide, round eyes, like a startled fawn.

He Yuyang recognized those eyes—the corners of the eyes were slightly upturned, just like her mother Liu Yan's. But the little girl who used to pester him for candied hawthorns and had two little braids had now grown to his chest height, her baby fat gone, revealing a pointed chin.

"Rain?" he called out tentatively, his voice a little strained.

The little girl shrank back, her small hands gripping the backpack strap tightly, and spoke timidly, her voice soft and uncertain: "Big brother? Is that you?"

He Yuyang's eyes instantly welled up with tears. He walked over, wanting to pat her head, but stopped halfway through his outstretched hand—afraid of startling her. In the past three years, his hands had been stained with blood, held guns, and developed thick calluses; he was no longer the brother who used to braid her hair.

"It's me, Rain, I'm back." He tried to keep his voice gentle.

"You're not dead?" The little girl's eyes suddenly lit up, like two small lamps. "Mommy said you... Mommy said you went to a very far place. Teacher Xu said you're a hero..." As she spoke, tears streamed down her face, large drops falling onto the concrete ground. "They all lied to me. It's so good that you're not dead!"

She rushed over, hugged He Yuyang's arm, and burst into tears. Her sobs were filled with grievance, longing, and the overwhelming joy of finding her again. He Yuyang's heart felt like it was being squeezed, both aching and tender. He gently patted his sister's back and said, "Brother's back. I'll never leave again."

"Big brother!"

A hoarse shout came from deep within the alley, its voice cracking. He Yuyang looked up and saw He Yuzhu rushing out of the martial arts school entrance, still wearing his training jacket, revealing his strong arms with muscles that were more defined than before.

He ran so fast that he almost tripped over the threshold, staggered and fell in front of He Yuyang, his eyes bloodshot, his lips trembling, unable to speak for a long time.

"Zhu Zi," He Yuyang called out, his throat feeling a little constricted.

His younger brother was half a head taller than when he left, his face was tanned dark, and a light stubble had appeared on his chin. He was no longer the boy who used to follow him around calling "Brother, Brother." The door of the martial arts school was open, and the sign above the door, which read "He Family Martial Arts School," had been replaced by a wooden sign that read "Patriotic Martial Arts Club." The red-painted characters were particularly eye-catching in the sunlight.

"Brother...is it really you?" He Yuzhu reached out his hand, wanting to touch him, but then waved his hand in mid-air as if afraid that the person in front of him was an illusion.

He Yuyang nodded, about to speak, when his younger brother suddenly hugged him. He Yuzhu's strength was astonishing, squeezing him so tightly that his bones ached, yet the strength was reassuring.

"You're finally back!" He Yuzhu's voice was buried in the crook of his shoulder, thick with a nasal tone. "I knew you weren't dead! I knew it!" He pounded on He Yuyang's back, each pound heavier than the last, as if trying to unleash all the worry, fear, and grievances of the past three years. "When we heard the news of your death... Mother fainted on the spot and lay in bed for half a month, almost not making it..."

"What happened to Mother?" He Yuyang's heart sank. She grabbed her younger brother's arm and asked urgently, "How is she now?"

"Mother is sick." He Yuzhu released him, wiped his face, which was covered in tears and sweat. "Ever since you 'passed away,' she hasn't eaten properly. Last month she even coughed up blood. The doctor said it was due to excessive worry... Brother, you're finally back. With you back, Mother's illness will definitely get better!"

Without saying a word, He Yuyang grabbed Yushui's hand and ran home. Yushui, pulled along, jogged to keep up, saying repeatedly, "Mom was talking about you yesterday, saying you love her cornbread the most..."

The courtyard has also changed quite a bit. The windows of the east wing have been replaced with glass windows, which are polished to a shine; a chicken coop has been built against the west wall, from which chickens can be heard clucking; the steps at the entrance of the main house have been rebuilt, and two pots of roses have been placed there, blooming brightly.

As He Yuyang stepped across the threshold, he saw Yang Shi coming out of the Yan family home, carrying a bowl of medicine in her hand. Upon seeing him, the bowl in Yang Shi's hand fell to the ground with a "clatter," shattering into pieces, and the medicine spilled all over the ground, emitting a bitter smell.

"Yu...Yu Yang?" Yang's eyes widened, her hand covering her mouth as if she had seen a ghost. "You...you're not..."

"Aunt Yan, I'm back," He Yuyang called out, his voice a little hoarse.

"Good heavens! It really is Yu Yang back!" Yang Shi suddenly realized what was happening, turned and ran into the house, her voice booming throughout the entire courtyard, "Old Yan! Come out quickly! Yu Yang is back! The He family boy is back alive!"

Yan Bugui ran out of the house, wearing glasses. He adjusted them and clapped his hands, laughing, "Good lad! It's good that you're alive! It's good that you're alive!"

The commotion in the courtyard alerted the other neighbors. Yi Zhonghai came out of the house, stood on the steps with his hands behind his back, looked at He Yuyang, his expression complex, a mixture of surprise, relief, and a somewhat inexplicable unease. In the end, he simply nodded: "It's good that you're back."

Liu Haizhong also came over, rubbing his hands together with a smile on his face: "Yu Yang, I heard you made great contributions on the front lines? You're truly the pride of our courtyard! I knew it, a good man should defend his country..."

He Yuyang had no time to deal with these questions. His gaze fell on the curtain at the main room's entrance, and his voice tightened: "Is Mother inside?"

He Yuzhu nodded, walked over, and lifted the curtain: "Mother, look who's back!"

He Yuyang took a deep breath and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit. A person lay on the kang (a heated brick bed) against the wall, covered with a thick quilt. Her hair was gray, and her face was so thin that it was just skin and bones. It was his mother, whom he had been thinking about day and night.

Hearing the noise, Liu Yan slowly opened her eyes, her gaze somewhat cloudy. When she saw the person standing in front of the kang (a heated brick bed), her eyes widened suddenly, her lips moved, but no sound came out.

"Mother." He Yuyang knelt down by the kang (a heated brick bed) and held his mother's withered hand. That hand used to be so strong, able to sew cotton-padded coats for him and make shoe soles for him, but now it was just bones, the skin as thin as paper, and the blue veins were clearly visible.

Liu Yan stared at him for a long time, then suddenly reached out with trembling hands and touched his face, from his forehead to his chin, as if confirming something. When her fingertips touched the stubble on his chin, she suddenly burst into tears, her sobs so heart-wrenching that they broke one's heart.

"My son...you're not dead...you're really not dead..." She gripped He Yuyang's arm tightly, her nails almost digging into his flesh. "Mother thought she would never see you again...Mother is so sorry to your grandfather, I didn't take good care of you..."

"Mother, it's my fault for making you worry." He Yuyang's tears also fell, dripping onto the back of her mother's hand. "I'm back, and I'll never leave you again."

Liu Yan cried for a long time, her whole body trembling, and finally coughed up two mouthfuls of blood. He Yuzhu quickly handed her a handkerchief and hurriedly tried to soothe his mother, saying, "Mom, don't get so worked up. Brother's back. This is good news, really good news!"

Liu Yan slowly stopped crying, holding He Yuyang's hand tightly, looking at him over and over again, saying repeatedly, "You've lost weight, gotten darker, and grown taller... Look at the injury on your arm, you must have suffered a lot..."

He Yuyang smiled and shook his head: "I'm not tired, Mother. Look, I'm perfectly fine. I even brought you a gift." He took out a neatly folded piece of red cloth from his backpack, unfolded it, and inside was a piece of Korean silk, the color of which was as warm as the sunset. "I'll make you a new cotton-padded jacket."

Liu Yan touched the silk, tears welling up again, but this time she smiled and said, "Good, good, Mother has a new cotton-padded coat..."

Just then, soft footsteps sounded outside the door. He Yuyang looked up and saw Xu Xiuli standing in the doorway, wearing a light blue Lenin suit, her hair neatly braided and hanging down in front of her chest. She was holding a book in her hand, probably having just returned from school.

Their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze. Xu Xiuli's eyes slowly reddened, and the book in her hand fell to the ground with a "thud," but she was completely unaware. She just stared at him, her lips trembling slightly.

"Teacher Xu." He Yuyang stood up, her heart pounding like a drum.

Xu Xiuli took two steps forward, then stopped, as if afraid this was a dream. She looked at his military uniform, the scars on his face, and the familiar light in his eyes. Suddenly, she covered her mouth, and tears silently streamed down her face.

"You're back," she said softly, her voice choked with emotion.

"I'm back." He Yuyang looked at her, a thousand words welling up on his lips, but in the end, they all turned into these four words.

Sunlight streamed through the glass window, warming the people inside. He Yuzhu quietly pulled Yushui out, leaving them alone. Yan Bugui and Yang Shi stood in the courtyard, looking at the door of the main house, smiling at each other, tears welling in their eyes.

He Yuyang walked up to Xu Xiuli, took out the peace dove made from a bullet casing and the blue stone sculpture with her profile carved on it from her backpack, and said gently, "These are for you."

Xu Xiuli took the statue, her fingertips tracing the familiar eyebrows and eyes on the stone. Tears fell even harder, but she smiled and said, "I thought... I would never see you again."

"I said I would come back." He Yuyang looked at her, his eyes shining brighter than ever on the battlefield. "I said I would see Yushui wearing a red scarf, I would see Zhuzi's martial arts schools spread all over the capital, and I also..."

He paused, then said in a low but firm voice, "I still want to marry you."

Xu Xiuli's face flushed instantly, like the roses blooming brightly in the yard. She lowered her head, looked at the peace dove in her hand, and softly hummed in agreement. Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, yet it clearly reached He Yuyang's ears.

Outside the door, He Yuzhu was saying to Yan Bugui, "My brother's back, we have to celebrate properly. I'm going to buy two pounds of meat and a bottle of wine!"

Yan Bugui nodded with a smile: "It's time to celebrate! It's time to celebrate! I'll have your Aunt Yang cook two of her signature dishes!"

The first rays of morning sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the entire ancient and solemn courtyard. Golden light shone on the plaque bearing the inscription "Patriotic Martial Arts Club," making it gleam; it also illuminated the vibrant rose bushes in front of the main house, where a gentle breeze caused the blossoms to sway softly, releasing a captivating fragrance. At this moment, every face was bathed in the warm sunlight, radiating happiness and contentment.

Standing by the window, He Yuyang gazed quietly at everything before him, a profound sense of peace welling up within him. After a long period of wandering and struggle, he had finally returned to this familiar land, to this home that held countless memories for him, a home he had defended with his life. Here were his beloved family and friends, and all those he longed for.

Time flies, but his longing for his hometown only grows stronger. Now, when he steps onto this land again, all his weariness and pain seem to vanish, replaced by joy and peace.

The morning sunlight filtered through the dappled leaves, casting a golden veil over the narrow, winding alleyways. Accompanied by the crisp, melodious chirping of birds, a group of innocent children frolicked and played in the alleys like a flock of chattering birds, their laughter ringing out like silver bells. At the same time, a deep, powerful sound drifted faintly from afar—the whistles of nearby factories as workers clocked out for the day. It was like a stirring, majestic symphony, resonating with the joy and satisfaction of the working people after their hard work.

These sounds intertwine, harmonious and beautiful like a symphony of nature, together composing a moving and vibrant melody. In this lively and peaceful atmosphere, neighbors greet each other, chatting and laughing, everyone's face beaming with happiness. All these scenes come together to form a vivid and lively picture of everyday life in the city, allowing people to feel endless warmth and beauty.

Standing at his doorstep, He Yuyang listened quietly to everything, a deep and indescribable emotion welling up inside him. He knew that although the road ahead was rugged and the path of development and construction of the new China was still long and full of challenges, as long as his family was by his side and his neighbors helped each other, this ancient and welcoming courtyard would still be filled with a strong sense of human warmth. Then, no matter how great the difficulties and obstacles, everyone could work together to overcome them.

For every Chinese person, "home" is not only a haven from wind and rain, but also a place of spiritual refuge and a strong support we can always rely on!