He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The sky was overcast on the nineteenth day of the first lunar month, with leaden clouds hanging low as if they might crash down at any moment. The air in the alley was heavier than usual, and even the children's laughter was much quieter—news had come the night before that the Japanese were going to search every household for "anti-Japanese elements," and everyone was quietly packing up their belongings and hiding anything that might cause trouble.

In the He family courtyard, He Yuyang was directing He Yuzhu to stack the firewood in the corner more neatly. This firewood, which he had specially moved from his spatial storage, was filled with the fresh scent of pine and stood out conspicuously in the yard. Liu Yan sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), sewing small clothes, but her eyes kept glancing towards the door, her face filled with worry.

"Yangyang, are you really going to investigate?" Liu Yan's voice trembled slightly. "I heard that the Li family in the alley in front of us were taken away because a book with words on it was found during a search..."

"Mom, don't be afraid." He Yuyang added a piece of coal to the stove, and the flames leaped up, making his cheeks glow red. "Our house is clean, there's nothing out of the ordinary, and they won't find anything even if they search."

Despite saying that, he dared not be careless. Late last night, Xiao Li braved the snow to deliver a message, saying that Yi Zhonghai was whispering with a Japanese translator at the clinic, mentioning the words "He family," "Xishan," and "medicine," and was probably planning to use this investigation as a pretext for revenge.

He spent the entire night organizing all the sensitive supplies in his storage space—medicines, bandages, the map given by Lao Wang, and even the half-worn dagger given by Zhou Zhengguo—all were stored in the deepest part of the space. Only ordinary household items remained in the courtyard: a hoe worn smooth, a quilt patched upon patched, and two bags of cornmeal that He Daqing had "bought" from the grain shop, the bags deliberately left open to reveal the coarse grains inside.

"Why isn't Dad back yet?" He Yuzhu peered out from the doorframe. "Shouldn't the grain shop have closed early today?"

"They've probably been stopped by soldiers on the street." He Yuyang walked to the courtyard gate, lifted a corner of the curtain, and looked out. Sure enough, two Japanese soldiers with guns were standing at the entrance of the alley. Their yellow woolen uniforms stood out starkly against the dusty alley, and they were questioning people coming in and out one by one.

Just then, a series of chaotic footsteps approached, accompanied by the thud of rifle butts pounding on the door and rough shouts: "Open the door! Open the door! Imperial Army is inspecting!"

Liu Yan dropped the needle and thread from her hand onto the kang (a heated brick bed), her face instantly turning pale. He Yuyang took a deep breath and pressed her hand down: "Mother, sit still, I'll go open the door."

He unlatched the door, and there stood five or six Japanese soldiers. Leading them was a squad leader with a mustache, followed by a translator in a black cotton robe—the same one who had met Yi Zhonghai the previous night. Even more chilling was the sight of Yi Zhonghai leaning against the wall behind the crowd, his face pale, but his eyes gleaming with a sinister light—he had actually come despite his injuries, clearly determined to destroy the He family.

"Search!" The squad leader, his triangular eyes scanning the yard, uttered a single word, and the soldiers immediately rushed in with their guns at the ready.

"Sir, sir!" The interpreter stopped the soldier with a fake smile and turned to He Yuyang, "It's a routine inspection by the Imperial Army to see if there are any anti-Japanese elements hiding anything. Your family should cooperate and not cause trouble."

He Yuyang stood still, her tone calm: "My family are all law-abiding people, we've never done anything illegal, please investigate, sir."

The sounds of soldiers ransacking the place immediately filled the air. They roughly tore off the bedding, turned the kitchen jars upside down one by one, and even poked at the stove hole with their rifle butts. He Yuzhu stood in front of Liu Yan, clenching his fists, trembling all over, but he gritted his teeth and dared not utter a sound.

Supported by a soldier, Yi Zhonghai limped over to the squad leader and whispered a few words. The squad leader's gaze immediately fell on the pile of firewood in the corner, and he gestured towards the soldier with his lip.

Two soldiers immediately rushed over, scattering firewood all over the ground, and even poking deep into the pile with their bayonets. He Yuyang's heart tightened—under that pile of firewood, he had deliberately buried a broken wooden box containing several pairs of old cloth shoes, just in case they thought it was "too clean" and became suspicious.

"Report! Nothing here!" The soldier kicked over the wooden crate, found only cloth shoes inside, spat, and then went to search He Yuyang's hut.

The hut was even more rudimentary, with a broken wooden table, two chairs, and He Yuzhu's training tape hanging on the wall. The soldiers pulled out the table drawer, which contained only a few copper coins and half an eraser. They then lifted the bed board, finding nothing underneath except straw.

"Sir, look..." The translator rubbed his hands together, his eyes scanning the courtyard, clearly not having found what he was looking for.

Yi Zhonghai grew anxious and leaned over to chatter on, pointing at He Yuyang: "He... Xishan... medicine..."

The squad leader frowned, walked up to He Yuyang, and asked in broken Chinese, "You... have been to Xishan?"

He Yuyang sneered inwardly; it was indeed about this. He nodded: "I went. I went with the martial arts school's masters for training. There were more than a dozen of us. You can ask Master Zhou Zhengguo, he's the head of the martial arts school, an honest man."

"Medicine?" the squad leader asked again, his gaze sweeping across his face like a knife.

"Medicine?" He Yuyang feigned ignorance. "We only have herbs for treating colds at home. My mother is pregnant, so we prepared some. Would you like to take a look, Madam?"

He turned and took a small cloth bag from the kitchen. Inside were some ordinary Bupleurum and licorice, which he had specially bought from the pharmacy. The squad leader picked up a piece, smelled it, and waved for him to put it down.

Just then, the soldier who went to the grain shop to find He Daqing returned and reported a few words to the squad leader. The squad leader's expression softened a bit—He Daqing did indeed have a good reputation at the grain shop, and Manager Huang had even said a few good words about him, saying that he was "cowardly and afraid of trouble, and wouldn't even dare to kill a chicken."

The soldiers searched everywhere they could, but found nothing suspicious except for a mess. The most valuable things in the yard were two bags of cornmeal, which were left open for everyone to see; there wasn't even a decent piece of clothing.

"Sir, I knew it! What could a poor family possibly have?" the interpreter said, trying to smooth things over. "Look at this yard, it's barely better than a doghouse. Anti-Japanese elements wouldn't choose this place to hide their things."

The squad leader glanced at Yi Zhonghai, his eyes filled with impatience. Yi Zhonghai's face flushed red with anxiety, and he was about to say something when the squad leader kicked him in the leg: "Baka!"

Yi Zhonghai cried out "Ouch!" and fell to the ground, trembling with pain, and dared not utter another sound.

The squad leader glanced at the He family again, his gaze lingering on Liu Yan's slightly protruding belly for a moment, before finally waving his hand: "Let's go!"

The soldiers strode away, and the interpreter, before leaving, didn't forget to throw out a parting remark: "Just live your life and don't meddle in other people's business!"

He Yuyang watched their retreating figures until they disappeared into the alleyway before letting out a long sigh of relief, her legs feeling a little weak.

"Brother!" He Yuzhu rushed over, tears streaming down her face. "They're bullying us so much!"

"It's alright, Zhu Zi, it's alright." He Yuyang patted his back, then turned to Liu Yan, "Mom, are you alright?"

Liu Yan shook her head, her hands still trembling: "You scared me to death... Thank goodness you were prepared."

He Yuyang didn't speak. He walked to the door and watched as Yi Zhonghai was helped towards the clinic by two neighbors, his back looking disheveled and pitiful. But he felt no sympathy whatsoever—it was all Yi Zhonghai's own doing. If he hadn't let the wolf into the house, the He family wouldn't have suffered this scare at all.

"That old bastard, he's absolutely wicked!" He Yuzhu gritted his teeth, watching Yi Zhonghai's retreating figure. "Why didn't he just throw him to his death!"

"Don't talk nonsense." He Yuyang pulled him back into the house. "Let's get ready, Dad will be back soon."

The family silently cleaned up the mess. The blankets were folded again, the jars were put back in the kitchen, and the firewood was piled up again. Only the scratches on the floor and the holes in the corner of the wall where the bayonet had pierced the wall were glaring scars.

He Daqing returned in the evening, his face showing exhaustion and lingering fear: "The street search was too strict. The grain shop was turned upside down, and Manager Huang was even slapped twice... Yangyang, is our family alright?"

"It's alright, Dad," He Yuyang handed him a bowl of hot water. "They didn't find anything, they just ransacked the house."

He Daqing drank water, his hands still trembling: "I heard on the way that it was that old bastard Yi Zhonghai who gave us the directions... How could he be so heartless! We have no grudge against him!"

"No grudge?" He Yuyang sneered. "He can't stand to see our family living a peaceful life. He used to rely on being an elder in the compound to always try to outdo us. Now that he's in trouble, he can't stand to see others doing well."

Liu Yan sighed, "We'll have to be more careful from now on. He's gotten involved with the Japanese; who knows what kind of trouble he might cause in the future."

"He won't dare again." He Yuyang's eyes darkened. "This time, without finding any evidence against him, the Japanese won't believe him anymore. Besides, he's in dire straits himself; it's hard to say whether he'll even survive."

Despite saying that, he became more vigilant. Yi Zhonghai hadn't succeeded this time, but he certainly wouldn't give up; he just didn't have the energy to cause trouble for the time being. What he really needed to guard against were the eyes lurking in the shadows—such as Yan Bugui, who had been watching the show, Jia Zhangshi, who held a grudge, and even the seemingly amiable Manager Huang in the grain shop. In chaotic times, anyone could turn against you for a little bit of profit.

At night, He Yuyang lay in bed, listening to the wind outside the window. During the Japanese search earlier that day, he noticed a detail—the translator's gaze towards him held a hint of inquiry, unlike the perfunctory look he gave others. Perhaps they didn't fully believe the He family's claim of innocence; they just hadn't found the evidence yet.

"It seems I can't just take things out of the space anymore," He Yuyang thought to himself. From now on, if the household necessities can be "bought" from outside, I will never take them directly from the space; and my communication with Lao Wang will have to be more discreet.

With a thought, the scene in the space unfolded in his mind: on neat shelves, medicines, food, and cloth were arranged in categories, and in the corner were several captured rifles—those were the ones Old Wang had insisted on giving him when he delivered supplies last time, saying they were for "self-defense." These things could cost him his head, so they had to be hidden even more carefully.

"Brother, are you asleep?" He Yuzhu's voice came again, trembling with tears. "I just dreamt that Japanese chickens took you away..."

"Silly boy, dreams are always the opposite of reality," He Yuyang said through the wall. "With me here, no one can take our family away. Go to sleep, you have to go to the martial arts gym tomorrow."

The next room was quiet. He Yuyang, however, couldn't sleep. He knew this search was just the beginning. As the war intensified, the Japanese would only become more frenzied, and the raids more frequent. He had to become stronger, not only to protect his family but also to safeguard the secrets entrusted to him.

The clouds outside the window dispersed a bit, revealing a crescent moon that shone coldly on the woodpile in the yard. He Yuyang clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. No matter how treacherous the road ahead, he had to keep going—for his parents, for his unborn sister, for those struggling in the darkness, and for the light in his own heart that refused to be extinguished.

He drifted off to sleep just before dawn, his dreams filled with images of Japanese bayonets and Yi Zhonghai's sinister face. But he wasn't afraid, because in his dream, his family and comrades stood behind him, and he didn't retreat an inch.