He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The spring drought of 1960 came fiercely and suddenly. The wheat fields outside Baoding City cracked open, and the soil clods were as dry as burnt charcoal, crumbling into powder with a touch. He Yuyang stood on the steps of the military headquarters office building, looking at the gray sky in the distance, his brows furrowed. The radio said that several northern provinces were experiencing a drought of the worst in a century, reservoirs were empty, rivers had dried up, and even wells were running dry.

"Deputy Commander, there's a comrade named Tie Niu at the gate looking for you. He says he's an old friend of yours." The guard jogged over, holding a worn-out letter of introduction. "He's from the Northeast and says he works on a farm."

"Tie Niu?" He Yuyang was stunned for a moment. This name was like a pebble thrown into a lake of memories, rippling outwards. He was his junior brother who learned boxing at the martial arts school when he was young. He was a dark-skinned, thick-armed boy who always followed him around calling "Senior Brother, Senior Brother." He was the most hardworking when practicing boxing, and his fists could send up wood chips when they hit the wooden stakes.

"Quickly, invite him in." He Yuyang strode down the steps. As soon as he reached the door, he saw a tall figure standing under the locust tree, wearing faded blue overalls with mud on the cuffs and a weathered face. It was Tie Niu. The once chubby-faced boy now had fine lines around his eyes and was carrying a bulging cloth bag. Upon seeing him, his lips trembled, and he couldn't utter a word for a long time.

"Tie Niu?" He Yuyang called out tentatively.

"Senior Brother!" Tie Niu knelt down with a thud, his eyes instantly reddening. "I've finally found you!"

He Yuyang quickly helped him up, both surprised and puzzled: "Get up and talk to me, what brought you here? What happened?"

Tie Niu was pulled to his feet by the arm, his hands still trembling. He pulled a crumpled notebook from his cloth bag, opened it, and showed it to He Yuyang: "Senior brother, look, this is my work ID. I'm a team leader at the Nenjiang Farm in Northeast China, managing over two hundred mu of land." He paused, his voice choking with emotion, "But it hasn't rained since spring. The wheat in the fields is almost withered, and we can't pump water from the wells. The comrades at the farm headquarters are so anxious their mouths are covered in blisters. We...we really have no other choice!"

As he spoke, tears streamed down his face, falling onto his oil-stained work pants: "I heard there was a Deputy Commander He in the Baoding Military Headquarters, also surnamed He, who used to work at a martial arts school in Beiping, so I came here just to give it a try. I never expected... I never expected it to really be you! Senior brother, you have to save our brothers on the farm!"

Looking into his red eyes, He Yuyang recalled his days at the martial arts school. Tie Niu was an orphan, taken in by the school's headmaster as an apprentice. He ate the coarsest cornbread and did the hardest work, yet he never complained. Once, he injured his back while practicing hard kung fu and lay in bed for three days. On the fourth day, he limped off to chop firewood, saying, "I can't eat the school's food for nothing." This stubborn, headstrong young man was now so anxious, showing how dire the drought on the farm truly was.

"Don't rush, come inside with me and we'll talk." He Yuyang pulled him into the office and winked at the guard, "Make a pot of hot tea."

Tie Niu sat in a chair, holding a cup of hot tea in his hands to warm his numb fingers before slowly recounting the farm's situation. Nenjiang Farm was a collective farm established just last year. Most of its two hundred-plus employees were veterans and local farmers. They had painstakingly reclaimed a piece of wasteland, planting wheat and corn, hoping for a good harvest in the autumn. But from March until now, not a drop of rain had fallen. The wheat, which was originally waist-high, was now only half a foot tall, its leaves yellow like withered grass, and the corn seedlings had withered and died in large patches.

"The water pump at the farm headquarters broke down a long time ago. We've asked several mechanics to fix it, but none of them could, saying the parts are too old." Tie Niu wiped his face. "We take turns carrying water in wooden buckets, but the water level in the well is getting lower every day. The water we bring up isn't even enough to irrigate half an acre of land. Yesterday, we measured the soil, and it's almost completely dry. If this continues, forget about the autumn harvest; we'll lose even the seeds!"

He Yuyang listened quietly, his heart heavy. He knew that this year's drought was widespread, and supplies were scarce everywhere. Not to mention new water pumps, even spare parts were hard to come by. But he couldn't just watch Tie Niu and the farm workers work so hard for nothing—that was the food supply for more than two hundred people, the hope they had cultivated with their blood and sweat.

"Tie Niu," He Yuyang pondered, "Do you know the principle of drought relief water pumps? They're the kind of machines that can pump water up without needing a very deep well."

Tie Niu paused for a moment, then shook his head: "We've only ever seen that old, outdated machine at the farm headquarters. Not only is its pumping capacity small, but it also breaks down all the time. I've never even heard of the kind you're talking about."

He Yuyang had an idea. He remembered that there was a set of blueprints for a "lightweight drought-resistant water pump" in the system, which he had redeemed when he checked in last month. It was said to be suitable for shallow water sources, with a simple structure that could be operated by manpower or livestock, and with a considerable pumping capacity. At the time, he thought he wouldn't need it for the time being, so he didn't pay much attention to it. Now it seemed to be a good thing to solve his immediate problem.

"I have a few blueprints here that might be of help." He Yuyang got up and took out a stack of papers from the drawer—they were copied overnight from the system blueprints. He deliberately used the most ordinary straw paper and imitated the handwriting of the craftsmen. "Take a look and see if you can get the blacksmith at the farm to make it. The materials are all ordinary steel, so it's not difficult to get them."

Tie Niu took the blueprints. Although he didn't know many words, his eyes lit up when he saw the clear structure and dimensions: "This...this machine looks so simple! We have an old blacksmith on our farm who used to repair farm machinery; he can definitely make it!" He became more and more excited as he looked at the blueprints, gesturing with his fingers. "Look at this impeller; it's much more reasonable than our old water pump! And this drive rod—it saves so much effort!"

He Yuyang saw the light in his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief: "Take these blueprints. If you have any questions, write to the military headquarters, and I'll reply." He paused, then remembered something, "Do you have enough food right now?"

Tie Niu's smile vanished instantly. He lowered his head and whispered, "The supplies are already rationed. We've been busy with drought relief lately, and we haven't even had time to cook. We've just been eating dry cornbread... Several of the female comrades have fainted."

He Yuyang's heart clenched. He got up, opened the safe, and took out two palm-sized tin boxes—these were compressed biscuits he had redeemed from the system, wrapped in moisture-proof paper, one of which was enough for a meal. "Take these," he said, handing the boxes to Tie Niu. "Go back and distribute them to the weaker comrades. Don't tell anyone. Just say they're 'gifts' I asked you to bring to the farm."

Tie Niu opened the box and was both surprised and delighted to see the golden-yellow biscuits inside. "What... what is this? It smells so good!" He broke off a small piece, put it in his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and his eyes widened. "My goodness, this is even more filling than steamed buns for Chinese New Year!"

"These are called compressed biscuits, eat them sparingly." He Yuyang patted his shoulder. "The blueprints can help you solve the water problem, but you'll have to figure out how to grow the grain yourself. Once the wheat is irrigated, there'll be hope for the autumn harvest."

Looking at the blueprints and biscuits in his hand, Tie Niu suddenly knelt down again with a thud and kowtowed three times: "Senior brother! No, deputy commander! You are truly our farm's savior! I kowtow to you on behalf of more than two hundred brothers!"

"Get up!" He Yuyang quickly pulled him up. "Back in the martial arts school, how much firewood did you chop for me, how much water did you fetch? This little bit of help is nothing. We're all just trying to make our lives a little easier, so let's not stand on ceremony."

Tie Niu wiped away his tears, clutching the blueprints and biscuits tightly to his chest as if they were priceless treasures: "Senior brother, don't worry, we will definitely make the water pump! After the autumn harvest, I'll bring you two bags of freshly milled flour so you can taste the wheat from our farm!"

"Okay, I'll be waiting." He Yuyang smiled. "Be careful on the road, and let me know when you get to the farm."

After seeing Tie Niu off, He Yuyang stood by the window, watching his figure disappear around the street corner, his heart filled with unease. He remembered the martial arts school's headmaster, the old man who always tapped him on the head with his pipe, who had said, "In martial arts, cultivate virtue first; with strength, help others." Back then, he thought it was just empty words, but now he understood that this "strength" wasn't necessarily about martial arts skills; being able to lend a helping hand when others are in trouble, even if it's just a few blueprints or a box of cookies, is a form of strength.

When they got home that evening, Xu Xiuli was feeding Yuan Chao porridge, which she had mixed with some spiritual spring water. The little guy ate it with smacking his lips. He Jianguo was lying on the kang table, drawing little figures on the ground with a twig, muttering "Down with the Japanese devils"—that's what He Yuyang taught him, saying that's how they drove the invaders out back then.

"Why are you back so late today?" Xu Xiuli asked as soon as he entered the room, quickly serving him a bowl of porridge. "I left you some thicker porridge, mixed with spiritual spring water."

He Yuyang took the bowl and told her about Tie Niu's situation, concluding, "Of all the fellow disciples at the martial arts school back then, he was the most honest. Now that he's in trouble, I can't just ignore him."

Xu Xiuli nodded: "You did the right thing. I've been hearing on the radio lately about the severe drought in Northeast China, but I didn't realize it was this bad. Will the water pump really work?"

"It should work." He Yuyang took a sip of porridge, a warm current flowing through his body. "The blueprints in the system are definitely correct. The structure is simple and suitable for the farm's conditions. I'm just worried they might lack materials. I'll call my old comrade from the military region's logistics department later and ask them to allocate some scrap steel to Nenjiang Farm, saying it's for 'supporting agricultural production.' It should be fine."

Xu Xiuli smiled and said, "You're so thoughtful. By the way, Jianguo got into a fight with a soldier's child in the yard today, saying it was over a piece of firewood."

He Yuyang frowned: "Is he alright?"

"No, I just tore someone else's child's clothes." Xu Xiuli sighed. "I sewed them up for the child and gave him two steamed buns mixed with spiritual spring water. His mother was very grateful. It's just that seeing the children fighting over a piece of firewood makes me feel uneasy."

He Yuyang put down his bowl and touched Xu Xiuli's belly—the little life inside was already more than three months old, and he could occasionally feel slight fetal movements. "Things will get better," he said softly. "Tie Niu and the others will be able to grow wheat, and our lives will slowly get better too. When Shouye is born, maybe we'll be able to eat white steamed buns."

"Mmm." Xu Xiuli leaned on his shoulder. "With you here, I trust you."

For the next few days, He Yuyang received no further news from Tie Niu, and he couldn't help but worry. Then, a week later, he received a letter from Nenjiang Farm. The handwriting was crooked and illegible, clearly written by Tie Niu:

"Senior brother, we've finished making the water pump! The old blacksmith is truly amazing; he spent three days and three nights hammering away at it according to the blueprints, and the pump he made draws water incredibly fast! We've chosen three strong young men to crank the handle, and it can irrigate twenty acres of land a day! The wheat has already been watered once, and the leaves are all standing upright, lush and green! The biscuits were distributed to the sick comrades, and now they can all go to work in the fields. When the wheat is ripe, I'll definitely send you some flour! Sincerely, Tie Niu."

The letter also included a photo of a dozen people in work clothes surrounding a brand-new water pump, their white teeth flashing as they smiled. Tie Niu stood in the center, raising his fist, his face as black as charcoal, but his teeth dazzlingly white.

He Yuyang placed the photo on the table, looking at Tie Niu's honest and kind smile. His heart felt filled with warmth. He picked up his pen and wrote back to Tie Niu: "As long as the water pump works, there's no need to send flour. Just focus on cultivating the land and making sure the brothers have enough to eat. That's more important than anything else."

After finishing the letter, he walked into the yard and looked at the small vegetable garden he had planted in the corner. The vegetables that Xu Xiuli had watered with spiritual spring water were lush and green, glistening in the light, and much taller than the vegetables elsewhere. He squatted down, touched the damp soil, and suddenly an idea came to him—he still had some drought-resistant vegetable seeds in the system, and perhaps he could send them to Tie Niu so they could plant them in the corners of the farm, which would at least supplement their food supply.

Just then, Xu Xiuli came over carrying a winnowing basket, inside which were some small red granules drying. "What are these?" He Yuyang asked curiously.

"This is powder made from dried sweet potatoes that I collected from the Spirit Spring Space," Xu Xiuli said with a smile. "It's sweet and filling when mixed into porridge. I sent some to my mother and Zhuzi so they could try it too."

Looking at his wife's gentle profile, He Yuyang felt a sense of peace. No matter how severe the drought was outside, no matter how hard life was, as long as he had someone like her by his side, someone who cared about him, someone who could lend a helping hand, there was always hope that they would get through it.

He recalled Tie Niu's words in his letter, "The wheat leaves have straightened up," and he could almost see that once withered field now sprouting new green shoots, stretching out in the sunlight. Just like the vegetables in this yard, just like the little life in Xu Xiuli's belly, just like everyone who perseveres through difficult times—as long as there is a little water and a little hope, they can take root and grow desperately.

In the evening, He Yuyang packed the drought-resistant vegetable seeds into an envelope and mailed it along with the reply letter. He didn't write much, only adding at the end: "Back in the day, you could kick through three wooden stakes at the martial arts school. What's this little difficulty?"

He knew that Tie Niu understood what those words meant. Some things were more effective than water pumps and biscuits—it was the spirit they shared back in the martial arts school courtyard, the beatings they endured together, the sweat they shed together, and the belief that "as long as you're willing to fight, you'll have food to eat."

As night deepened, the lights in the military family compound came on one by one. He Yuyang sat under the lamp, watching Xu Xiuli sew clothes for her unborn child. Jianguo and Yuanchao squeezed beside her, watching curiously as the needle and thread moved across the cloth. The wind outside still carried dust, but the light inside was warm and cozy, illuminating the family's figures like a comforting painting.

He knew that tomorrow morning, the letter would board a train heading north, carrying seeds and encouragement to that parched land. All he could do was stay home, hold onto his inner strength, wait for Tie Niu's good news, wait for the crops to grow tall, and wait for life to gradually improve. Just like when he practiced martial arts at the gym, every move, every step, was grounded and practical; he would eventually master the skill.