Courtyard House: Starting by inheriting the tradition and suppressing the barbarians.

Late autumn, 1982.

The corridors of Hongxing Hospital were filled with the pungent smell of Lysol.

In a regular ward of the internal medicine department.

Yan Bugui, the third uncle who had been shrewd all his life, was now lying on his sickbed like a withered tree.

He's old, really old.

My hair has all fallen out, and I don't have many teeth left.

"Nurse! Nurse!"

Yan Bugui laboriously raised his withered hand and beckoned to the nurse who was changing his dressing.

Even now, he's still calculating, "How much...how much does this bottle of medicine cost?"

The nurse glanced at the prescription impatiently: "This is imported anti-inflammatory medicine, five yuan a bottle."

"Five yuan?"

Upon hearing this, Yan Bugui nearly jumped out of bed, his eyes wide with surprise.

"This is robbery! I'm done! I'm done!"

"Give me the cheapest one! Just get the kind that costs two cents a tablet, like oxytetracycline!"

"Sir, you have severe pneumonia and malnutrition; oxytetracycline won't work!"

The nurse said impatiently, "Besides, the medicine has already been opened; it can't be returned!"

"What a waste... Five yuan... That's enough to buy so many coal briquettes..."

Yan Bugui trembled with heartache, clutching his chest.

It was as if the medicine flowing into my veins wasn't meant to save my life, but rather to cut my flesh with a knife.

His illness was entirely self-inflicted.

To save money, he only ate two meals a day, both of which were thin porridge and pickled vegetables.

To save coal, he didn't light a fire in the house during the dead of winter, and ended up getting pneumonia from the cold.

......

"Bang!"

The door to the ward was pushed open roughly.

The "filial sons and virtuous grandsons" that Yan Bugui had been looking forward to have arrived.

The eldest son is Yan Jiecheng, the second son is Yan Jiefang, and the third son is Yan Jiekuang.

And their youngest daughter, Yan Jiedi, was also there; the whole family was present.

However, they were not carrying any fruit or nutritional supplements.

They were all empty-handed, their faces as long as donkeys'.

"Dad, the medical bill is here, it's 120 yuan in total."

Yan Jiecheng slammed a payment reminder on the bedside table, his tone icy, "We need to talk this over today. Who's going to pay for this?"

"Who's paying?" Yan Bugui was taken aback. "Of course, you guys split it equally."

"Why should it be split equally?"

Yan Jiefang immediately exploded, "The eldest brother lives in the main house and takes up the lion's share, so he should pay the lion's share!"

"I moved out a long time ago, why should I pay the same as you?"

"fart!"

Yan Jiecheng pointed at Yan Jiefang and cursed, "Back then, Dad's salary was used to find you a job and give you gifts!"

"Why shouldn't this debt be settled?"

"And what about me?"

Yan Jiekuang also objected, saying, "I've been working in the countryside for so many years, and my family hasn't given me a single penny in subsidies."

"You want me to pay now? No way!"

"that is!"

Yan Jiedi was even more sarcastic, saying, "I am like water spilled from a cup, once I'm married off."

"Retirement is my son's responsibility; what does it have to do with me?"

"Just being able to come and visit today is enough for me to fulfill my filial duty!"

The ward instantly erupted in chaos.

The four children surrounded the hospital bed, arguing heatedly, their faces flushed.

They went through old accounts, calculating the gains and losses of a mere penny or two.

Every sentence revolves around "money," and every word exudes "coldness."

Not a single person asked, "Dad, are you feeling unwell?"

Not a single person glanced at the frail old man lying on the hospital bed.

Yan Bugui lay in the middle, listening to the familiar sounds of arguing.

Looking at those shrewd faces that resembled my own, I suddenly felt a chill run down my spine.

Are these the children he raised?

This is the "family of schemers" he is so proud of?

He taught them from a young age: "You won't get poor from eating or dressing, but you will get poor if you don't plan ahead."

He made them pay for their meals, calculated the rent, and calculated the water and electricity bills from a young age.

He thought he had taught them how to survive.

But unexpectedly, he taught them to be ruthless and heartless.

"Stop...stop arguing..."

Yan Bugui tried to stop them, but his voice was too weak and was instantly drowned out by the arguing.

"Brother, if you're not going to pay, then vacate the main room!"

"Dream on! That's what Dad left me!"

"Then let's sue! Who's afraid of who!"

The children argued more and more fiercely, and even started pushing and shoving each other.

Just then.

The IV bottle above Yan Bugui's head was empty.

The last drop of medicine fell.

Because the needle wasn't removed in time, blood began to flow back slowly along the IV line.

The bright red blood looked particularly glaring inside the transparent tube.

"I'm...I've recovered my health!"

Yan Bugui stared in horror at the tube of red liquid, desperately trying to raise his hand to pull out the needle or press the call button.

However, he was too weak.

His hand dropped halfway up.

"Help...help me..."

He turned his head with difficulty and looked at his children by the bedside.

Yan Jiecheng was grabbing Yan Jiefang by the collar.

Yan Jiedi was criticizing Yan Jiekuang.

They were less than a meter away from him, but no one even glanced at him.

In their eyes, there is only money, only real estate, and only scheming.

To them, this elderly man lying in bed was merely a burden to be rid of, a debt to be shared.

Yan Bugui was in despair.

Two streams of turbid tears flowed down the corners of his eyes and into his ears, feeling icy cold.

Yan Bugui, he schemed his whole life and thought himself the smartest.

But in the end... he was betrayed by everyone and was "schemed" to death.

"Retribution! This is retribution!"

Yan Bugui stared at the ceiling, his entire life flashing before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

That penny's worth of pickled vegetables, that meticulous calculation of every drop of water, that smug look on their faces as they repeatedly sought petty gains...

Now, it all turned into this tube of reversed blood, taking away his last life.

"Well..."

A muffled gurgling sound came from Yan Bugui's throat.

His hands hung limply at the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on his arguing children, filled with regret, irony, and resentment.

He just left like that.

Amidst the arguing over a few dollars in medical expenses, he breathed his last.

......

A few minutes later.

"Alright! Stop arguing!"

"Pay the medical expenses first, and we'll deduct it from Dad's pension later!"

Yan Jiecheng finally let out a roar.

"Okay, you said it yourself." Yan Jiefang relented.

After reaching an "agreement," the group turned to look at the hospital bed.

"Dad, we've discussed it, we...Dad?"

"dad?"

Yan Jiecheng called out, but no one answered.

He walked over and nudged Yan Bugui.

His body was already stiff, but his eyes were still wide open.

The IV line was filled with dark red blood.

"ah!!!"

Yan Jiedi screamed, "Dad's dead!"

The ward fell silent instantly.

There was no crying.

The four children looked at each other, and their first reaction was not sadness!

But -

"Oh no! I haven't even asked him for the bankbook password yet!"

"Where did he hide those antique items?"

"Hurry home! Don't let the third brother get there first!"

The group scattered with a whoosh, rushing home to grab the inheritance.

Only Yan Bugui's lonely body remained, lying on the cold hospital bed, his eyes wide open in death...

......