He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The December wind swirled with snowflakes through the alleyways, rattling the paper windows of every house. He Yuyang was squatting at the cellar entrance, carrying the last basket of potatoes into the cellar. These potatoes were newly harvested from the space, large and plump, their skins still carrying the fresh scent of earth. He deliberately picked out some small, unremarkable ones and piled them outside, while wrapping the good ones in straw and hiding them in the deepest part of the cellar—a dark and dry place where they could be stored until spring without spoiling.

"Yangyang, slow down, don't fall." Liu Yan stood at the cellar entrance, holding a cotton-padded coat in her hands. "It's so cold today, put it on quickly, don't catch a cold." Her belly was already very obvious, and she had to walk slowly and speak with a bit of panting.

"Okay, Mom." He Yuyang climbed out of the cellar, patted the dirt off his hands, took the cotton-padded coat and put it on. "The cellar is all cleaned up. The dried sweet potatoes are in the innermost part, and the potatoes are divided into three piles. The outer pile is for the neighbors to see, the middle pile is for us to eat, and the innermost pile..." He lowered his voice, "is for emergencies."

Liu Yan nodded, her eyes full of relief: "You're so thoughtful. In this chaotic world, it's reassuring to have more food on hand."

Just then, a loud voice came from outside the courtyard gate: "Is Aunt Liu home? I've come to drop by!"

He Yuyang and her mother exchanged a glance, both seeing a knowing look in each other's eyes. The third aunt was Yan Bugui's wife, and Yan Bugui was a notorious miser in the alley, who would stretch every penny to its limit. If he came to their door at this time, it probably wouldn't be anything good.

"Yes, yes, come in quickly!" Liu Yan greeted them with a smile.

The old woman, wearing a patched cotton-padded coat and clutching a piece of cloth in her hand, smiled broadly: "Aunt Liu, look how neatly you've tidied your yard! My husband asked me to come and ask how you make those cornbreads mixed with wild vegetables? Food is tight lately, and we'd like to learn how to save some grain."

As she spoke, her eyes scanned the yard like a scanner, from the woodpile to the coal pile, finally settling on the unremarkable basket of potatoes in the corner. She pursed her lips, as if to say, "That's all there is."

He Yuyang sneered inwardly. Yan Bugui wasn't interested in learning how to make cornbread; he clearly wanted to find out how much grain his family had stored. These past few days, rumors had been circulating in the alley that since He Daqing became the manager, the He family's life had improved, and they probably had a considerable amount of winter grain stored. Yan Bugui was the kind of person who couldn't stand seeing others doing better than himself; it would be strange if he didn't come to find out.

"Hey, what's the best idea? I'm just guessing." Liu Yan smiled and ushered her into the house. "Come in and warm up. I'll pour you a bowl of hot water."

The three women pretended to decline for a couple of minutes, but still followed him into the house. He Yuyang followed behind, deliberately making the chain on the cellar door rattle, and then said loudly, "Mom, I'm tired from carrying potatoes, I'm going to get two cornbreads to tide me over."

He turned and went into the kitchen, taking out two cornbread buns mixed with dried sweet potatoes from his storage space—he had made them specially; the dried sweet potatoes were chopped and mixed into the cornmeal, looking grayish, as if they had been mixed with a lot of wild vegetables. He put the cornbread buns on a plate and carried them to the main room: "Third Aunt, want to try some? This is what we call 'this stuff,' it's filling, but it's a bit rough."

The old woman picked up a cornbread bun, broke off a small piece, put it in her mouth, chewed for a long time, and then frowned deeply: "This...this tastes a little sweet?"

"Oh, I mixed in some dried sweet potatoes," Liu Yan said with a smile. "I asked a relative in the countryside to get some for me a while ago. It's not much, but mixing it into the flour can save some grain."

"Oh, I see." The third aunt nodded, the inquiry in her eyes fading a little. "My husband always says that wild vegetables need to be blanched to remove the bitterness, but it seems your method is better. Adding some dried sweet potato also adds a touch of sweetness." She ate a couple more bites, put down the cornbread, and said, "Alright, I know how to make it. I won't keep you from getting back to work. I'm going back now."

"Won't you sit a little longer?" Liu Yan feigned an attempt to persuade her to stay.

"No, no, my family is waiting for me to cook." The third aunt waved her hand and walked out quickly. As she left, she glanced back at the kitchen. Seeing that there was no movement, she left reluctantly.

After she had walked away, He Yuyang sneered, "Old Master Yan's scheme is so well-thought-out, you can hear it even through the courtyard wall."

"Who can argue with that?" Liu Yan sighed. "These days, life isn't easy for anyone, but we can't always be eyeing other people's things."

"Just be careful." He Yuyang put away the remaining cornbread. "If he sends Auntie over again, we'll serve her these dried sweet potato cornbread again, so he knows that's all we are doing, and he won't keep thinking about it."

Despite saying that, He Yuyang didn't dare to be careless. Although Yan Bugui was stingy, he wasn't stupid, and today's cornbread might not completely dispel his suspicions. He turned around and went back into the cellar, moving the dried sweet potatoes hidden at the very back even deeper, covering them with two layers of straw, and weighing them down with a few stones—he had the cellar reinforced recently, and it had a hidden compartment that most people wouldn't find.

In the afternoon, He Daqing returned from the restaurant, looking rather grim. "Today the restaurant manager said that the higher-ups are requisitioning a batch of grain, saying it's for the 'front lines,' and that all the shops should prepare accordingly." He took off his cotton-padded coat and rubbed his hands, which were red from the cold. "I bet it's for those Japanese again."

He Yuyang's heart sank: "How much should we levy?"

"They say it's based on the size of the shop. Our restaurant isn't that big, but we still have to hand over two hundred catties." He Daqing sighed. "The manager is really worried. He said that with the end of the year approaching, food is already scarce. If we hand over another two hundred catties, we might not be able to last until spring."

"What about the neighbors?" Liu Yan asked worriedly. "Will they have to pay too?"

"It's hard to say." He Daqing shook his head. "I heard that the village head in the alley has already been registering the grain stored by each household. I guess they can't escape it."

He Yuyang frowned. The requisitioning of grain in Japan, ostensibly "supporting the front lines," was actually a means of embezzlement, and in the end, it was the ordinary people who suffered. His family had a considerable amount of grain in their cellar; if it were truly requisitioned, it would likely be impossible to hide it.

"Dad, the restaurant's grain is handed over, but we need to hide our own grain well," He Yuyang said in a deep voice. "If the village head comes to register, just say that we have enough stored up to last until the New Year, about a hundred catties of cornmeal, plus some potatoes and sweet potatoes, that's all."

"I know." He Daqing nodded. "I'm tight-lipped and won't say much. I'm just afraid... afraid someone will report me." He didn't say it explicitly, but both of them knew who he was referring to.

He Yuyang knew what was going on. Yi Zhonghai and Yan Bugui were not to be trifled with; if they knew his family had a lot of grain stored up, they might say something to the village head. He had to find a way to completely dissuade them from any further thoughts.

As evening fell, He Yuyang carried two dried sweet potato buns to Yan Bugui's house. Yan Bugui was hunched over the kang table doing accounts. Seeing him arrive, he raised his eyelids slightly and asked, "Yangyang, what's up?"

"Uncle Yan, my mother asked me to bring you two cornbreads to try," He Yuyang said, placing the cornbreads on the table. "They're the ones with dried sweet potatoes mixed in. Auntie asked how to make them, right? My mother said you should try them too. If you like them, I'll bring some more dried sweet potatoes over."

Yan Bugui picked up the cornbread. Just like the third aunt had described, it was grayish-brown, and when broken open, you could see bits of dried sweet potato. He took a bite; it really wasn't very tasty, dry and rough. "Is this all you eat at home?" he asked, feigning interest.

"Yes," He Yuyang sighed, "My dad's meager wages, after paying rent, are barely enough to buy cornmeal, and it's a miracle if he can even mix in some dried sweet potatoes. My mom is pregnant, and she can't even afford to eat any refined grains." He deliberately spoke in a pitiful tone, with a hint of grievance in his eyes.

Yan Bugui's doubts lessened considerably. It seemed the He family was indeed struggling financially, otherwise they wouldn't be eating this stuff every meal. He nodded, "Okay, I understand. Please thank your mother for me. No need for the dried sweet potatoes, we have some wild vegetables at home, that's enough."

"Then I'll be going now, Uncle Yan." He Yuyang turned and left, sneering inwardly—this old fox, he finally believed it.

After leaving Yan Bugui's house, he circled around to Yi Zhonghai's house and deliberately greeted Grandpa Wang, who was passing by, loudly: "Grandpa Wang, have you eaten yet? My family is still making cornbread tonight. My aunt said she wants to learn how to cook it. If you want some, I can bring you a couple."

Grandpa Wang waved his hand: "No, no, I still have some leftovers at home."

He Yuyang's voice wasn't quiet; Yi Zhonghai inside the house could definitely hear it. That was exactly the effect he wanted—to let Yi Zhonghai know that his family ate cornbread every meal and had very little food stored up.

After doing all this, he finally felt relieved and went home. As soon as he entered, he saw He Daqing pacing anxiously in the yard: "Yangyang, the village head is here, talking to your mother inside!"

He Yuyang's heart tightened, and he quickly walked into the main room. The village head was a lean, middle-aged man wearing a black cotton robe, who was taking notes in a small notebook. When he saw He Yuyang come in, he looked up at him and asked, "Is this your son?"

"Yes, village head," Liu Yan said quickly. "Quickly call him Uncle Li."

"Hello, Uncle Li," He Yuyang greeted respectfully.

"Hmm." Li Baozhang nodded, then asked Liu Yan, "How much grain do you have stored? Tell the truth, don't hide anything, that's the rule from above."

"Not much," Liu Yan said with a smile, "just about a hundred catties of cornmeal, a basket of potatoes, and several dozen catties of dried sweet potatoes. They were all obtained by relatives in the countryside. It's good enough to last until the New Year."

Li Baozhang wrote it down in his notebook, then asked, "Your husband works at the restaurant, didn't he get any extra grain?"

"How could that be?" Liu Yan sighed. "The restaurant's grain supply is very limited, and the manager keeps a close eye on it. Who would dare to take more? My husband is honest, and he lives off his wages."

Li Baozhang didn't ask any more questions. He stood up and said, "Alright, I understand. Your family's situation is special. If you really have difficulties, we'll talk about it later. I'll go check on other families."

After seeing the village head off, the whole family breathed a sigh of relief. "Luckily you had the foresight," He Daqing patted his son's shoulder, looking relieved.

He Yuyang, however, did not relax: "This is just the beginning. The grain requisition is not yet finalized, and there may still be changes. The grain in the cellar must not be touched unless absolutely necessary."

At night, He Yuyang lay on the kang (a heated brick bed), listening to the wind outside the window, making plans in his mind. The grain in his spatial storage was enough for his family to eat for several years, but he couldn't take out too much at once; he could only sell it little by little to exchange for some money and ration coupons. As for the requisition of the chickens from the foot-and-skinned area, he would avoid it if possible, and if he couldn't avoid it, he would deal with it using the lowest possible standard, and he absolutely couldn't let them take advantage of him.

He recalled Yan Bugui's expression as he ate the cornbread earlier that day, and the tightly closed windows outside Yi Zhonghai's house. A cold smile crept onto his lips. These people only cared about their own little piece of land; they had no regard for national affairs. Fine, let them focus on their cornbread then. He could finally concentrate on his own business.

In the cellar, dried sweet potatoes and potatoes lay quietly in a hidden compartment, as if gathering strength and waiting for spring to arrive. He Yuyang knew that these grains were not only the family's means of survival, but also their source of strength in turbulent times. As long as they were there, no matter how fierce the storms outside, this family would not collapse.

The snow started falling again outside the window, swirling and swirling, as if to cover the entire alley. He Yuyang closed her eyes, her mind filled with only one thought: protect this home, protect this grain, and wait for spring to come.