He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The summer of 1974 was like a stifling oven; just after July, Baoding was enveloped in a sweltering heatwave. The peach trees in the military family compound had grown taller than a person, their branches laden with unripe fruit, the leaves drooping as if yearning for a good rain. He Yuyang, wearing a short-sleeved military shirt, practiced boxing in the yard, sweat trickling down his chin, leaving small wet streaks on the cement—he'd been feeling uneasy lately, as if something big was about to happen.

"Dad, the weather forecast says there will be heavy rain for the next three days!" He Shouye ran in holding a crumpled newspaper. The edges of the newspaper were wet from the rain, and the writing was a little blurry. "The school said that we will have a flood prevention holiday starting tomorrow and that we should stay at home and not go out."

He Yuyang took the newspaper, his gaze falling on the words "Extremely Heavy Rain," his brows instantly furrowing. He knew Baoding's terrain like the back of his hand; the moat west of the city was already in disrepair, and the farmland on its banks was lower than the riverbed. If the rain really got too heavy, the consequences would be unimaginable. "Shouye, go and call your mother back. Tell her the troops might need to assemble urgently." He said, walking into the house. The back of his military shirt was already soaked through, clinging to his body like a wet cloth.

When Xu Xiuli rushed back from the tractor factory, she was carrying a tin lunchbox containing mung bean soup for the workers—she was now the head of the logistics team, and she cared more about the factory than her family. "Yu Yang, I heard from Staff Officer Wang that you're going to help with flood relief?" Her blue overalls were stained with machine oil at the cuffs, from when she was changing parts on the water pump, and she was still breathing heavily as she spoke.

"Yes, the moat's water level has exceeded the warning level." He Yuyang was stuffing compressed biscuits and a flashlight into his military satchel, his movements as fast as if he were preparing for battle. "I have to go to the dam to keep watch. You guys stay home, lock the doors and windows, and don't go out." He suddenly remembered something and dragged a thick wooden plank from the corner of the warehouse. "Put this plank at the doorway in case the water gets in."

Xu Xiuli looked at his firm profile and suddenly reached out to touch his forehead: "You've been coughing a lot these past few days, don't push yourself too hard." She knew her husband's personality; once he put on his military uniform, he treated himself like he was made of iron. The injuries he sustained when he arrested Officer Zhao hadn't fully healed yet, and now he was going to fight the flood.

Three days ago, the military finally closed the net. With irrefutable evidence of surveillance footage and espionage markings provided by He Yuyang, Officer Zhao and his entire spy network were apprehended—from Old Zhang in the logistics department to the data clerk infiltrating the research institute, a total of seventeen spies were uncovered. Those who were falsely accused and sent to the countryside years ago have also been exonerated one after another. Yesterday, an elderly academician with gray hair came to the military headquarters to express his gratitude, saying he could finally return to his family compound.

"Don't worry, I'm fine." He Yuyang slapped her hand away and stuffed a talisman soaked in spiritual spring water into her hand. "This is made of peach wood from the space. It can calm the mind." He didn't say that there was also a miniature alarm hidden inside the talisman. As long as she was in danger, he would receive a signal.

When the assembly call sounded at dusk, the sky was already as dark as a tattered cloth soaked in ink. He Yuyang followed the troops to the moat. The turbid river was pounding wildly against the embankment, waves carrying mud, sand, and weeds, threatening to overflow the top. "First Battalion, reinforce the north bank! Second Battalion, move sandbags to the west bank! Third Battalion, follow me!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice torn apart by the wind and rain. His military boots sank deep into the mud with every step.

The rain intensified, large raindrops pounding against helmets with a resounding crack. He Yuyang and his soldiers stood hand in hand at the most dangerous point of the dike, using their bodies to shield themselves from the surging waves. When sandbags ran out, he had people dismantle doors from nearby farmhouses to use as shields; when a soldier was swept away, he used his years of honed martial arts skills to leap over and pull him back. In the rain, his figure was like an unyielding mountain, and seeing his tireless efforts, the soldiers gritted their teeth and charged forward.

"Deputy Commander, take a rest!" Communications officer Xiao Wang ran over, holding a tattered umbrella and handing him a dry bun. "You haven't slept for three days!"

He Yuyang waved his hand, took a bite of the steamed bun, and swallowed it with the rainwater. The steamed bun was given to him by Xu Xiuli that morning; it contained wheat flour from his spatial storage, enough to stave off hunger. "It's alright, I can manage," he said, when suddenly he felt dizzy, and the rain in front of him became a double image—he knew he was probably about to get a fever.

At dawn on the fourth day, as the first rays of light pierced the rain, the embankment finally stabilized. He Yuyang watched the river recede, his legs buckled, and he knelt on the muddy ground, his body burning hot. "Deputy Commander!" The soldiers rushed over, trying to carry him away, but he held them back.

"Don't make a fuss..." he said in a hoarse voice, "Let Xu Xiuli come..." He was afraid that if the news of his illness got out, people would gossip again, just like the last grain coupon incident.

Xu Xiuli arrived at noon, carrying a large bundle on her back, her trousers rolled up high, clearly having waded through water all the way. "I knew you wouldn't listen!" She squatted down beside him, her eyes red-rimmed, and pulled a thermos from her bundle. "Quick, drink this porridge."

A faint medicinal aroma wafted from the porridge; it was brewed using spiritual spring water and fever-reducing herbs from her spatial storage. He Yuyang was helped to sit up by the soldiers and sipped the porridge slowly. The warm porridge slid down his throat like a refreshing spring, instantly dispelling much of the chill. He knew that the concentration of spiritual spring water in this porridge was ten times higher than usual; it was the maximum amount of effort she could muster.

"Why are you here?" His voice was still a little weak, but much stronger than before.

"Shouye said you'll definitely tough it out." Xu Xiuli wiped the mud off his face with a handkerchief, her movements as gentle as if she were handling a fragile piece of porcelain. "That old academician who was exonerated gave me some herbs, saying that drinking them in water could reduce the fever." She didn't say that the old academician had actually seen through her worries and specially gave her some wild ginseng that he had treasured for many years, so that she could nourish her husband's body.

That afternoon, He Yuyang's high fever miraculously subsided. The soldiers were amazed to see him back to his energetic self, directing the clearing of the dike. "The deputy commander is truly made of iron!" Xiao Wang told his comrades. "He had such a high fever, but a bowl of porridge his wife brought him was enough!"

Hearing this, He Yuyang felt a warmth in his heart. He knew that it wasn't that he was made of iron, but that someone was supporting him with love and care.

The day he returned to the family compound, Xu Xiuli was airing out her quilts in the yard. Sunlight filtered through the peach tree leaves, casting dappled patterns on her body. "You're finally back!" she exclaimed, running over to help him untie his military boots, only to be embraced tightly by him.

"I missed you." He buried his face in her hair, smelling the familiar scent of soap, and his nerves, which had been tense for several days, finally relaxed.

"You're always talking nonsense." Xu Xiuli pushed him away and took out a brown paper envelope from the house. "Jianguo sent something. He said it's herbs he brought from the border."

He Yuyang opened the envelope. Inside was a packet of dried herbs, the leaves serrated at the edges, emitting a bitter fragrance. There was also a letter, the handwriting neater than before, probably written at the outpost: "Dad, this is some fever-reducing herb given to me by the local villagers. It works when steeped in water. Mom always complains that you don't wear enough clothes and asked me to remind you. The border is very peaceful now. I received a second-class merit award. Next time I visit, I'll take you to see the boundary marker..."

He looked at the words "Second-Class Merit" on the letter and his eyes suddenly welled up with tears. This child, in such a harsh place, still remembered his old ailment. He brought the herbs close to his nose; the bitter fragrance seemed to carry the scent of wind and snow from the border outpost.

"What about maintaining the business?" He wiped his face and changed the subject.

"He's learning to read from that old academician," Xu Xiuli said with a smile. "The old academician said that Shouye has a talent for painting and he'll teach him to draw engineering drawings."

He Yuyang looked out of the courtyard and, sure enough, saw Shouye hunched over a small stool in front of the old academician's house, holding a pencil and drawing something on a piece of paper. The old academician sat beside him, wearing reading glasses, patiently pointing out the details. Not far away, He Yuanchao was picking up fallen petals under a peach tree with Xiaoxuan. The little girl's laughter, like a string of silver bells, jingled in the sunlight.

He suddenly felt that all the hard work was worth it. Whether it was the danger of fighting the flood or the tension of capturing spies, as long as he could preserve the warmth of home and the peace of the country behind him, it was better than anything else.

Xu Xiuli brought out a plate of sliced ​​watermelon from the house. It had red flesh and black seeds, and looked very sweet. "Eat up, it's the first batch I collected from my space, I specially saved it for you."

He Yuyang picked up a piece, took a big bite, and the sweet juice flowed down her chin. The sun was shining brightly, the breeze was gentle, and the small peaches on the tree swayed gently in the wind, as if saying: There's still a long way to go, take your time.