He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The cold wind of early December, whipping up snowflakes, felt like tiny knives on the face. He Yuyang carried the last bag of cornmeal into the cellar, dusted off his hands, and straightened up when he heard a loud crash from the courtyard gate—it was He Yuzhu returning, looking as if he had dropped something.

His heart skipped a beat, and he lifted the curtain to go out. He saw He Yuzhu throw the wooden sword he was holding against the wall; the scabbard hit a stone, cracking. The young man stood in the snow, his cotton-padded coat hood pulled back, revealing his ears, red from the cold. His brows were furrowed, and he muttered, "What a lousy teacher! All he does is practice horse stance! Three months of lessons, and he hasn't even taught me a proper move!"

He Yuyang walked over and picked up the wooden sword. It was made by Zhou Zhengguo for He Yuzhu; it was made of peach wood, heavy, and said it would help build arm strength. He stroked the cracks on the scabbard and said softly, "What's wrong? Did you argue with your master?"

"It's not just being angry, it's incredibly frustrating!" He Yuzhu shouted, his voice trembling with tears. "My fellow disciples have all started learning 'Black Tiger Steals the Heart,' and I'm still stuck in the horse stance! When I asked my master, he just said, 'If your foundation isn't solid, the earth will shake,' all that useless talk! I think he's just biased!"

As he spoke, his eyes reddened, and he kicked the snow on the ground, splashing snow all over his trouser leg.

He Yuyang handed him the wooden sword and patted him on the shoulder: "Zhuzi, come with me."

He pulled his younger brother into the kitchen, added some firewood to the stove, and the fire crackled and burned, dispelling some of the chill. "Which do you think is more important, the horse stance or 'Black Tiger Steals the Heart'?" He picked up a rolling pin and handed it to He Yuzhu, "Try hitting me with this rolling pin."

He Yuzhu paused, gripping the rolling pin, hesitating to move.

"Go ahead and hit me, I won't dodge." He Yuyang stood up straight, her chest facing him.

He Yuzhu gritted his teeth, raised the rolling pin, and swung it at He Yuyang's chest—he used all his strength, and it whistled through the air. But just as the rolling pin was about to hit He Yuyang's clothes, he suddenly turned slightly to the side, his right hand grabbing He Yuzhu's wrist like an iron clamp, and twisting it gently.

"Ouch!" He Yuzhu dropped the rolling pin with a clatter to the ground, his wrist so sore and numb he couldn't lift it. "Brother, what happened to you...?"

"The stance I'm in is the foundation of the horse stance." He Yuyang loosened his grip, demonstrating how to stand firmly with his legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and back straight. "Your attack just now was pretty powerful, wasn't it? But my foundation is solid, so no matter how much strength you put in, you couldn't use it. This is what they call 'If the foundation is not solid, the ground will shake.'"

He Yuzhu looked at his brother's posture, then touched his own sore and numb wrist. He didn't say anything, but the anger in his eyes subsided a little.

"Master made you practice the horse stance not because he's biased, but because he cares about you." He Yuyang picked up the rolling pin and put it back on the cutting board. "Think about it, the moves your fellow apprentices learn look impressive, but if their foundation isn't solid, they'll collapse with a single push when faced with real kung fu. It's like building a house; if the foundation isn't solid, no matter how high you build it, it will collapse."

He paused, recalling the undisguised expectation in Zhou Zhengguo's eyes whenever he looked at He Yuzhu, and said, "Master said you are the most talented disciple he has ever seen. He is strict with you because he wants you to truly learn the skills in the future, rather than just learning some fancy moves."

He Yuzhu lowered his head, picking at the patch on his cotton-padded coat, and whispered, "But...but I just feel wronged."

"It's understandable that you feel wronged," He Yuyang laughed. "Back then, Dad practiced for three years before he dared to touch a wok. At first, didn't he always complain to me, 'Why can others stir-fry dishes while I can only chop vegetables?' But look at him now, who in the restaurant is as good at tossing food as Dad?"

These words struck a chord with He Yuzhu. He admired his father's wok-flipping skills the most; he could toss the food in the pan high without spilling a drop of oil. Hearing his brother say this, the knot in his heart gradually untied, though a hint of awkwardness remained on his face.

"Alright, stop looking so long." He Yuyang picked up a roasted sweet potato from the stove and handed it to him. "It's freshly roasted, and it's sweet. After you finish eating, I'll take you somewhere."

He Yuzhu, munching on a sweet potato, asked indistinctly, "Where to?"

"Go apologize to your master." He Yuyang added more firewood to the stove. "If your master saw how you threw the sword just now, he would be heartbroken."

He Yuzhu, biting into a sweet potato, didn't respond, but he didn't refute either—which was considered tacit agreement.

In the afternoon, He Yuyang took out a small porcelain bottle from his spatial storage, poured in half a bottle of spiritual spring water, added some ordinary white wine, shook it, and it looked no different from ordinary medicinal wine. "Take this and take it to Master." He handed the porcelain bottle to He Yuzhu, "Just say it's 'strengthening medicinal wine,' which I asked a relative in the countryside to get for Master to nourish his body."

He Yuzhu took the porcelain bottle; it was heavy, and there was some dirt still stuck to it—He Yuyang had deliberately wiped it on to make it look more like something brought from the countryside. "Brother, will this thing work?"

"You'll know once you try," He Yuyang said with a smile, giving him a push. "Go and come back quickly, I'll make you your favorite braised pork tonight."

He Yuzhu tucked the porcelain bottle into his pocket and ran off in a flash. He Yuyang watched his retreating figure, pondering to himself—Zhou Zhengguo had worked tirelessly for years teaching disciples and running the martial arts school, and his health had long since deteriorated. The spiritual spring water would be just what he needed to replenish his body. Moreover, he vaguely felt that his master's strictness towards Zhuzi might not just be due to the "basics," but perhaps there were other concerns as well.

He turned and went into the house, saying to Liu Yan, "Mom, I want to go to my great-aunt's house in the countryside tomorrow. She said she wasn't feeling well last time, so I'm going to visit her."

"Go to the countryside?" Liu Yan frowned. "With all this war and chaos, isn't it dangerous on the road? Why don't you have your father go with you?"

"No need, I know the way. I'll be back soon." He Yuyang tucked the blanket around her mother. "My great-aunt only has my mother as her niece. I won't feel at ease if I don't go and check on her. Besides, the countryside is quieter and safer than the city."

What he didn't say was that this trip to the countryside wasn't to visit any great-aunt—that was just an excuse he made up. What he really wanted to do was send the grain he had stored in his spatial storage to the rear.

These days, he's been stockpiling food in his storage space. The food he gets from daily check-ins, the food he grows himself, and even the food he secretly "borrows" from the Japanese chickens' granary at night… all added up, it's enough to feed a million people for a year. He hadn't found a suitable opportunity to send it out until yesterday when he heard from the water tank vendor that the Chinese troops in the rear were severely lacking food, with even the wounded only able to drink thin porridge. Only then did he decide he had to send it over as soon as possible.

When He Daqing returned and heard about it from Liu Yan, he frowned and said, "The roads in the countryside are difficult to travel, and it's snowing. Maybe we shouldn't go? I really want to see your great-aunt. Let's wait until spring."

"Father, my mind is made up." He Yuyang's tone was firm. "My great-aunt is getting old, and I'm afraid... I'm afraid if I don't go now, I won't have another chance." He deliberately made it sound serious, with a hint of worry in his eyes.

He Daqing sighed, knowing his son was filial, and didn't stop him anymore: "Then be careful on the road, and come back as soon as possible. I'll prepare some dry food and travel expenses for you."

"No need, I'll just bring some dried sweet potatoes. I have enough money for the journey," He Yuyang said with a smile—he had everything in his spatial storage, so he didn't need to bring any dry food.

The next morning, before dawn, He Yuyang set off with an empty bundle on his back. The bundle was just for show; it only contained an old cotton-padded jacket, making it look bulging, but it was actually empty.

He didn't take the main road, but chose to walk along quiet side paths. The snow was knee-deep, and he trudged along with difficulty, but he dared not stop—he had inquired with Old Wang and learned that a team would be waiting for the grain at the old threshing ground in the west of the city that morning.

After walking for about two hours, they finally arrived at the west side of the city. The old threshing ground was in a wasteland, surrounded by half-collapsed earthen walls, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of snow, completely deserted. He Yuyang hid behind the earthen walls, observed for a while, and only after confirming that no one was around did he quietly slip out.

He stood in the center of the threshing floor, took a deep breath, and let his consciousness sink into the space—there, the grain was piled up like a small mountain, wheat, corn, potatoes, sweet potatoes... neatly categorized and stacked.

"This is it," he thought to himself, concentrating his mind and imagining moving the food out of his spatial dimension.

The next second, an astonishing scene unfolded—sacks of grain appeared out of thin air on the snow, seemingly growing out of nowhere, and in the blink of an eye, they filled half the threshing floor. Snow dripped from the sacks, making a soft sound that was remarkably clear in the silent wasteland.

Cold sweat beaded on He Yuyang's forehead. This was the first time he had moved so many things at once, and it had taken a huge toll on his mental energy. He leaned against the stone millstone next to him and panted for a long time before he could catch his breath.

He glanced at the mountain of grain, then checked the surroundings again to make sure no traces were left before pulling his cotton-padded coat tighter and turning to walk back. He hadn't gone far when he heard the sound of horses' hooves behind him, and he quickly hid in the nearby woods.

A dozen or so men in gray military uniforms rode up on horseback, led by Old Wang—he had changed his clothes, his face weathered, but his eyes were bright. "Quick! Handle it carefully! Be quiet, don't disturb the people nearby!" he shouted in a low voice, directing the soldiers to unload the grain.

A young soldier stared at the grain scattered on the ground, exclaiming in astonishment, "Captain Wang, this... this grain seems to have appeared out of thin air? And nobody was watching it!"

"Don't ask questions you shouldn't!" Old Wang glared at him, but his eyes were filled with amusement. "This was a gift from our 'lucky star'! Hurry up and move it, then leave immediately!"

He Yuyang hid in the woods, watching them methodically pack the grain, and a weight lifted from his heart. He quietly slipped out and returned the way he came—he had to get home before dark, or his parents would worry.

When he got home, it was just getting dark. Liu Yan was standing at the gate looking out. Seeing him return, she rushed to greet him: "You're finally back! You must be freezing! Come inside and warm yourself by the fire!"

He Yuyang stamped the snow off his feet and said with a smile, "My great-aunt is doing well. She was just thinking of you and asked me to bring you some farm eggs from the countryside." He took out a cloth bag from his spatial storage, which contained a dozen or so round eggs—these were "props" he had prepared long ago.

"You really brought something, kid." Liu Yan took the cloth bag, her eyes full of relief. "Go wash your hands, your dad left you some hot soup."

As soon as He Yuzhu sat down inside, he ran back in, his face flushed with excitement: "Brother! Brother! Master praised me today!"

"Oh? What did I say to praise you?" He Yuyang asked with a smile as he drank his hot soup.

"He said my horse stance is stable now!" He Yuzhu said excitedly, gesturing wildly. "He also said he'll teach me the advanced 'Going with the Flow' move in a couple of days! Oh, and he drank the medicinal wine you gave him, saying it had a strong aftereffect and warmed him up, and he asked me to thank you!"

He Yuyang understood—it seemed the spiritual spring water had worked. Zhou Zhengguo felt better, his mood improved, and his attitude towards Zhu Zi naturally softened.

"Then you must study hard and not let your master down." He patted his younger brother's head.

"I know!" He Yuzhu nodded emphatically, then leaned closer and whispered, "Brother, I have something to tell you, but don't tell anyone else. Today when I went to deliver the wine, I overheard Master telling his wife, 'This child has good potential, but he's too impatient; he needs to be tempered... He might be destined for great things in the future.' Do you think Master thinks I could become a great hero?"

As he spoke, his eyes shone with anticipation.

He Yuyang looked at his younger brother and his heart stirred slightly. Zhou Zhengguo's words didn't sound casual. In this chaotic world, the phrase "taking on great responsibilities" carried immense weight. He patted He Yuzhu's head and said softly, "Whether you can become a great hero or not, first make sure you've mastered the basics."

At night, He Yuyang lay in bed, listening to He Zhu excitedly telling his parents about the martial arts school in the next room, and a smile involuntarily crept onto his lips. Today, though tiring, was worth it.

The grain was delivered to its proper place, his younger brother resolved his inner conflict, his master's health improved, and his parents were all at peace—this was probably the best life he could imagine.

However, he knew that such days were fragile. Japanese chickens were still rampant in the city, Yi Zhonghai and his gang's schemes hadn't stopped, and Lao Wang and his men were fighting desperately on the front lines... All he could do was protect his home, gather more strength, and wait for the day when spring would come.

The snow outside the window started falling again, silently, as if gathering strength for next spring. He Yuyang closed his eyes, his fingers gently tapping the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed)—tomorrow, he should go see Master Zhou and ask him what exactly "taking on important matters" meant.