He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The spring breeze of 1973 carried a sweet warmth, melting the snow in the military compound into scattered silver fragments. He Yuyang walked out of the compound along the muddy dirt road, his trouser legs stained with yellow mud, but he carefully carried a wooden box in his arms. At the bottom of the box, nestled in straw, three peach saplings, each about half a person tall, were sprouting tender red buds—these were "treasures" he had taken from his spiritual spring space. Their roots were still entwined with the lingering spiritual energy, and the water droplets hanging on the buds shimmered in the sunlight.

"Slow down!" Xu Xiuli caught up from behind, carrying a shovel. "The saplings are precious, don't shake the roots." The cuffs of her blue cloth jacket were frayed, but it was washed until it was bright white. There was also a hemp thread tied to her waistband, indicating that she had just moved away from the sewing machine—Aunt Zhang's sewing group was short-handed, and she had been going there every day to help with buttonholes.

He Yuyang stopped and looked down at the peach seedlings in the box: "Don't worry, the roots have been soaked in spiritual spring water, they're very strong." He realized he had misspoke as soon as the words left his mouth and quickly added, "I meant, they were soaked in warm water overnight, so the survival rate is high."

Xu Xiuli gave him a reproachful look: "You think you know everything?" But she couldn't help but smile. "Where are the children? Weren't they supposed to water the saplings?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than three boys, barely out of their teens, rushed out from around the corner carrying a ripped wooden bucket. The one in the lead, He Jianguo, was almost as tall as He Yuyang. His old military green uniform was faded from washing, but the cuffs were neatly rolled up—it was a gift from his cousin, a retired soldier, and he treasured it like it was new. "Dad! We've washed the bucket clean!" His voice boomed, making the tender buds of the peach saplings tremble.

He Shouye followed at the back, carrying a wooden board in his arms. It was a cardboard box he had picked up from a scrap yard, with the words "Family Tree" crookedly written on it in red paint. The paint wasn't completely dry yet, and it had smeared a dark red stain on his sleeve. "Dad, the wooden sign is finished." He always spoke slowly and deliberately, as if afraid of disturbing something, but his eyes were very bright, staring intently at the tips of the peach saplings.

"Where's Yuanchao?" He Yuyang looked around. The second son, He Yuanchao, was the wildest. Yesterday he chased Aunt Zhang's chickens all over the place. Where did he go today?

"Over there!" He Shouye pointed to the haystack outside the fence, and sure enough, he saw a dusty figure lying on the haystack, clutching a willow twig in his hand, probably secretly watching someone's pigeons again.

"He Yuanchao! Get back here!" He Yuyang's voice suddenly rose. This second son was born in 1958. His name was decided by his father, who said he wanted him to remember "defend the country." But he was as wild as an untamed horse. He was good at climbing trees and stealing bird nests, but he had a headache when he saw books.

The figure on the haystack jolted and tumbled down, the willow branch in his hand flying away: "Coming, coming!" He ran over, patting the hay on his buttocks. Two large holes were worn through the knees of his coarse cloth trousers, revealing patched underpants underneath.

Xu Xiuli quickly pulled a piece of cloth out of her apron pocket: "Look at your pants! I'll mend them for you later." Her apron was still stained with sewing machine oil, which she had gotten on it while helping Aunt Zhang repair her sewing machine, and she hadn't been able to wash it off even after washing it three times.

He Yuyang had no time to worry about his son's tattered pants. He directed He Jianguo to dig a hole, He Shouye to support the seedlings, and he himself scattered a handful of black soil he had brought from the spiritual spring space into the hole—this soil had been soaked in spiritual spring water for three years, and could be smelled faintly sweet when held in the hand. Xu Xiuli squatted down beside him, pressing sunflower seeds one by one into the soil, the mud on her fingertips splattering onto the tip of her nose like tiny black moles.

"Mother, there's mud on your nose," He Shouye gently reminded her, reaching out to wipe it off for her, but Xu Xiuli laughed and dodged away.

"Stop fooling around," she scolded, "Sunflowers should be planted separately from peach trees, otherwise they'll block the sunlight." She planted them very carefully, with each seed spaced almost exactly as if measured with a ruler.

He Yuanchao squatted on the ground and drew circles, writing "1973" on the mud with willow branches: "Dad, when will this peach tree bear fruit?" He was looking forward to this the most. Last year, he saw canned peaches at the supply and marketing cooperative. The yellow peach slices in the glass jar looked sweet, but unfortunately, they could only be bought with coupons and were very expensive.

"It will take three years." He Yuyang poured a spoonful of spiritual spring water into the base of the sapling, diluted it with three times the amount of well water, and watched as the water seeped into the soil. The tender shoots seemed to straighten up a bit more. "When it bears fruit, I'll make you peach jam to spread on steamed buns."

"I want canned food!" He Xiaoxuan ran out of the house at some point, her hair in two pigtails, with a crumb of biscuit still stuck to the end of each braid—it was made by Xu Xiuli yesterday with coarse grain flour mixed with a little spiritual spring water, and it was very sweet. The little girl had hidden half of it under her pillow and even slept with it clutched in her hand. She was wearing a pink blouse, which Xu Xiuli had made from her own old cheongsam, and the collar still had the marks of the frog buttons, making her look particularly pretty.

"Little glutton." Xu Xiuli picked up her daughter and wiped the crumbs from the corner of her mouth with her apron. "When the peach tree bears fruit, I'll have your father make you a whole jar of canned fruit and bury it in the cellar. You can eat it slowly in the winter."

He Yuyang smiled at his wife and daughter, but his hands didn't stop working. He tied red strings to the three peach saplings, the strings being leftovers from Xu Xiuli's shoe sole making, carrying a faint scent of soapberry. "This one is called 'Founding of the Nation,' that one is called 'Aid to Korea,' and the smallest one is called 'Guardian of the Industry,'" he pointed to the saplings. "None of you three are allowed to bully them, or you won't get any peach jam at the end of the year."

He Jianguo immediately straightened his back: "I will definitely protect it! I will come to water it every day!" His cousin, who was in the army, wrote to him saying that to protect the country, one must not only carry a gun, but also know how to farm, otherwise one will not be able to fill one's stomach, let alone have the strength to fight.

He Shouye touched the words on the wooden sign: "I draw pictures for them, a hundred leaves." He has recently become obsessed with drawing, using charcoal sticks he found to draw little figures all over the wall. Yesterday, Aunt Zhang praised him, saying that his drawings were "even better than New Year pictures."

He Yuanchao's eyes lit up, and he leaned closer to the peach sapling: "Dad, what if someone steals the peaches? I'll bury a 'ground mine' under the tree—like in the movie 'Tunnel Warfare,' it'll go off when you step on it!"

"Nonsense!" He Yuyang tapped him on the head. "We're neighbors, where do all these thieves come from? If they're really in trouble, we'll give them a basketful, what kind of nonsense is this, burying landmines?"

Xu Xiuli smiled and smoothed things over: "Yuanchao wants to protect the peach trees. How about this, once the trunks grow thick, have your dad make you a slingshot. If anyone dares to damage the saplings, you can use the slingshot to hit their butts."

"Alright!" He Yuanchao jumped up with joy, swinging the willow branches in his hands with a whooshing sound.

Just then, Staff Officer Wang's wife walked by carrying a bamboo basket filled with freshly sewn shoe soles: "Brother Yuyang, Sister-in-law Xiuli, planting peach trees?" Her blue overalls were still stained with machine oil; she had just come back from the tractor factory. "Our factory canteen needs to grow some vegetables. The 'trial seeds' you gave me last time were really good; they grew half again as fast as regular seeds. Could you spare some more for me?"

He Yuyang's heart skipped a beat. The vegetable seeds he gave him last time were improved varieties from the Spirit Spring Space, with high yields and disease resistance. He had only dared to secretly send some to Aunt Zhang's family, but he hadn't expected that Staff Officer Wang's wife had also heard about it. "Yes, we do have some," he deliberately frowned, "but not many. It's a new variety cultivated by the military farm, and they asked me to try planting it."

"That's great!" Staff Officer Wang's wife's eyes lit up. "I got you a pair of newly made insoles, with pure thousand-layer soles. Do you think we could exchange them for some?" She handed over the insoles from the basket, the stitches so fine they looked like they were machine-made.

"What are you doing?" Xu Xiuli said, "How can seeds be exchanged for anything? I'll have Yu Yang pack half a bag for you later." She knew what He Yu Yang was thinking; these improved vegetable seeds could help the neighbors grow more grain, which was better than hiding them.

When He Yuyang went to the warehouse to get the seeds, he deliberately mixed a handful of black soil from the spiritual spring space into the cloth bag. He watched Staff Officer Wang's wife leave with profuse thanks, and then glanced at his wife and children busy in the yard—He Jianguo was adding soil to the saplings, He Shouye was drawing grass next to the wooden sign, He Yuanchao was teaching Xiaoxuan to weave a small basket with willow branches, and Xu Xiuli was watering the sunflowers. The sunlight shone on the stray hairs at her temples, making them shine like they were plated with gold.

He suddenly felt that the spring of 1973 was exceptionally warmer than usual. The tender buds of the peach saplings swayed gently in the wind, as if nodding in agreement. What would the peaches taste like three years later? He didn't know, but he knew that as long as the people in this courtyard stayed together and tended to their lives with care, even the most astringent fruit could be transformed into something sweet.

He Shouye suddenly ran over holding a piece of charcoal: "Dad! I drew a bee!" He handed over the charcoal, and sure enough, there was a crooked little bee on the back of the wooden sign, with two black dots on its wings.

He Yuyang took the charcoal and added a peach blossom next to the bee: "That's right, there's no honey without flowers, and no sweetness without a home."

The sound of a tractor factory whistle came from afar, and He Yuanchao immediately jumped up: "Mom! That's the factory's closing whistle! Aunt Zhang said the film projection team is coming to show 'The Southern Expedition and the Northern War' tonight, shall we go and get a good spot?"

Xu Xiuli straightened up and patted the dirt off her hands: "Go! Tell your dad to carry the stool over there. I'm going home to get some roasted melon seeds."

He Yuyang gripped both ends of the bench tightly, took a deep breath, and hoisted it onto his shoulder. His gaze followed the group of children, who were excitedly escorting Xu Xiuli as they ran towards the open space of the family compound. Just then, a long-buried memory surfaced in his mind—it was 1950, an era full of hope and dreams.

At that time, Xu Xiuli was like a newly blossoming flower, delicate and tender. She always liked to wear two cute braids, and her smile was as bright as the sun. Once, he happened to see her squatting on the edge of the field, carefully planting sunflowers. A gentle breeze blew by, blowing a few strands of hair at her temples, as if nature itself was adding a touch of poetry to this beautiful scene.

At that moment, a warm feeling welled up in He Yuyang's heart: "The sunflowers planted by this girl will surely bear the sweetest and most delicious seeds in the future!" He secretly made up his mind to cherish this relationship and let it grow strong and shine like these sunflowers.

Now, they'll be planting peach trees and sunflowers in their yard, they have three boys who are about to grow up, a beautiful little daughter, helpful neighbors, the noisy whistles of the factory, and inexhaustible hope from the spiritual spring space.

He Yuyang glanced down at the peach sapling; a drop of water rolled down the tender bud, seeping into the soil and leaving a small, dark stain. He smiled, shouldered his stool, and quickly caught up with his wife and children. Xu Xiuli's laughter drifted on the wind, along with He Xiaoxuan's childish cry: "I want to sit in the front row! To watch the People's Liberation Army uncles beat the bad guys!"

Life is like this newly planted peach sapling; it has taken root, sprouted, and is striving to grow taller.