Courtyard House: I, the eldest son of the Jia family, have returned from the battlefield.

The three words struck her like a bolt of cold lightning, instantly choking Jia Zhangshi's sobs.

She raised her cloudy, tear-filled eyes, trembling as she examined the face before her—a face both familiar and strange: "You...you really aren't my Dongming?"

Whether it was the lingering senses within this body or the sorrowful gaze that touched something, Jia Dongming's heart suddenly tightened, and the words slipped out of his mouth: "Auntie, I damaged my brain when I was eight years old. I only vaguely remember that my father's name was Jia Youcai and my mother's name was Zhang Cuihua. I can't remember anything else."

"Jia Youcai... Zhang Cuihua..."

The old woman murmured the two names repeatedly, and suddenly a light burst forth in her dry, well-like eyes.

She lunged forward and grabbed Jia Dongming's arm, ignoring the thud of the trunk hitting the box. Her voice trembled with excitement: "Son! I am Zhang Cuihua! It's true! If you don't believe me, just ask any of the old ladies in this courtyard!"

Jia Dongming knew that this woman was indeed the original owner's birth mother, but that "amnesia"...

Every play has to be performed to the end.

He feigned confusion and took a half-step back: "You mean...you're my mother? This...how can this be...?"

Memories surge like a tide.

Years ago, Jia Youcai lost his eldest son in a drunken stupor, and Zhang Cuihua hated him for half her life; later, when her husband was bedridden, she held onto the family's savings and only agreed to support her youngest son, Dongxu.

After Jia Youcai passed away, Dongxu became her only hope, but unexpectedly, a landslide took away even that hope.

From then on, she guarded against her daughter-in-law Qin Huairu remarrying day and night, clinging to this last reliance like a vine.

Now, this eldest son who has fallen from the sky, isn't he a reliable support for old age bestowed by God?

Seeing Jia Dongming still standing there in a daze, Zhang Cuihua wiped her face, a genuine smile spreading across her wrinkles: "Come on, let's go back to the courtyard! Ask around, and see if I've told a single lie!"

"Auntie, what's wrong with my hand..."

Jia Dongming lifted the box helplessly.

"How foolish I was!"

Zhang Cuihua quickly let go of the luggage and went to take some of it, saying, "Give some to Mother to carry! Let's go home!"

Upon entering the courtyard house, I came across Yang Ruihua sweeping fallen leaves under the locust tree.

Zhang Cuihua's steps became lighter, and she called out loudly, "Third Aunt! Come and see! This is our eldest son, Dongming! He injured his head when he was little, and he only remembers that his father's name is Jia Youcai and my name is Zhang Cuihua. He has forgotten everything else."

Tell me about what's happened between us, our old neighbors, all these years!

When Yang Ruihua first saw his new neighbor at noon, he was surprised to find that his features were exactly like Jia Dongxu's.

She was already suspicious after learning the name, and she had casually mentioned it when Zhang Cuihua cried and complained about her grievances regarding the housing allocation at the Intermediate People's Court.

Unexpectedly, this mention actually brought up a deep-rooted bond between them.

Upon hearing the reason, Yang Ruihua suddenly realized and exclaimed, "Oh dear!"

With a warm tone, she turned to Jia Dongming and said, "Comrade Jia, this Aunt Zhang's real name is Zhang Cuihua, and her late husband was Jia Youcai."

When I saw you at noon, I thought you were a relative of some branch of the Jia family—you and Dongxu look exactly alike! Who would have thought you were their eldest son who went missing years ago!

Ever since Jia Dongming woke up in this body and pieced together the outline of "Full House of Love" from fragmented memories, he vaguely guessed that he had become the person who appeared out of nowhere in the play.

Hearing the names and surnames announced by the three women, my last bit of doubt dissipated.

He looked at Zhang Cuihua's face, which was flushed with excitement, and then, with an expression of disbelief, he swallowed hard and stammered, "You...are you really my mother?"

"Clang"

With a thud, the cloth bundle in Zhang Cuihua's hand fell to the ground.

She threw herself into Jia Dongming's arms, her withered arms gripping him tightly, her cries like a broken bellows: "My son... Heaven has finally opened its eyes... Mother has waited for this day..."

Watching the mother and son reunite, Yang Ruihua suddenly recalled the Jia family's misfortunes over the years and felt a pang of sorrow. She stepped forward and gently patted Zhang Cuihua's hunched back: "Old sister, your son's return is a great joy, you should be smiling, why are you crying again?"

In those days, most women believed in ghosts, gods, and karma to some extent, especially women of Zhang Cuihua's age.

Upon hearing her neighbor's words, Madam Jia seemed to be awakened. She hurriedly released her grip on Jia Dongming's arm, wiped her face with the corner of her clothes, and said in a choked voice, "You are right... Nineteen years. My son has been gone for nineteen years, and now he is standing here in good health. I should be smiling, not constantly shedding tears!"

As she spoke, she glanced around at the women peering into the courtyard, bent down to pick up the cloth bundle that had fallen to her feet, turned to Jia Dongming and smiled, a smile tinged with tears she hadn't wiped away: "Dongming, come on, let's go home together."

Under the whispering gazes of the crowd, Madam Jia straightened her back, took her son's hand, crossed the courtyard, and stopped in front of a wooden door with mottled paint.

She pushed open the door, her voice filled with boundless joy: "Look, this is our home."

After you got lost, your father went to work at the steel rolling mill, so we moved here with your younger brother.

She led Jia Dongming into the house, her tone gradually turning somber: "Your father... died in an accident at the factory three years after you disappeared."

Later, Dongxu took over his position, entered the steel rolling mill, got married, and had three children.

But last year... Dongxu suffered the same misfortune.

Mentioning her youngest son's name brought tears to Jia Zhangshi's eyes again, and she wiped her face hard with the back of her rough hand.

In the rumors surrounding this large courtyard, Jia Zhangshi was always described as a cunning, stingy, and short-sighted old woman.

But Jia Dongming, who was standing in front of her at this moment, saw a kind of naked and undisguised tenderness in her trembling shoulders and red eyes.

Perhaps because the original owner's emotions still lingered in his body, Jia Dongming unconsciously softened his voice: "Mom, I don't remember the past clearly, but I'll be here for you from now on, and I'll never let you suffer again."

These words made Jia Zhangshi suddenly stop crying.

She looked up, her tear-filled eyes fixed on her son: "Dongming...where have you been all these years? Why didn't you ever send a message home?"

Jia Dongming was silent for a moment before slowly speaking: "I bumped my head back then and forgot everything."

Later, a theatrical troupe took me in, and I went with them.

In 1944, on our way to a market in Ping'an County, we encountered a Japanese raid... I was lucky enough to escape and was rescued by passing Eighth Route Army soldiers. After that, I stayed with the troops and fought all over the country.

"Over the years, fragmented memories have returned, but they can only be pieced together as scattered shadows—I know that I am from Beijing, that my father's name is Jia Youcai, and that my mother's name is Zhang Cuihua."

I remember that day I went to buy grain with my father. On the way, we saw Japanese soldiers committing murder in the street. While running for my life, I was pushed down and hit the back of my head hard on a stone...

Before he could finish speaking, Madam Jia pulled him into a tight embrace, her withered arms gripping him tightly. A trembling voice, a mixture of sobs and curses, escaped her throat: "My poor son...it's all your foolish father's fault! All he cares about are those few pounds of grain; he can't even keep an eye on his own son..."

Jia Dongming let her hug him, and gently patted her back: "Mom, I'm back safe and sound, aren't I? Let's not cry on a day that should be happy."

Madam Jia then released her grip and repeatedly replied, "Yes, yes, you should be happy... You sit and rest for a while, I'll go to the pigeon market and see if I can get a piece of meat to stew for you tonight."

These words startled Jia Dongming—who in the courtyard didn't know that Jia Zhangshi valued money more than life itself? Yet here she was, offering to pay for meat.

He quickly stopped her: "It's so late, there's no meat left to sell in the pigeon market."

I still have two cans of food in my bag, brought back from the Korean War. I'll heat them up tonight and have a little treat.

"Waaaaah—waaaah—"

Suddenly, a baby's cry burst from the inner room.

The slight smile on Jia Zhangshi's face, brought on by the canned food, vanished instantly.

Her face darkened, and she spat towards the inner room: "You little brat, always wailing and lamenting!"

Jia Dongming immediately guessed that it was Xiao Huaihua, who was only a few months old.

He frowned and followed Jia Zhangshi into the inner room, where he saw a little girl who looked about three or four years old standing on tiptoe on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), frantically shaking her swaddled baby.

Upon seeing Jia Zhangshi enter, the child trembled in fright, shrinking his neck and daring not to move.

Jia Dongming is a soul that has traveled back from the future, bringing with it entirely different ideas.

Seeing Xiao Dang trembling with fear because of Jia Zhangshi, he immediately asked, "Mother, what are you doing?"

Madam Jia did not discern the emotion in his words. She only glanced at the crying baby on the bed with disdain before putting on a smile: "These two girls were born to your sister-in-law who came to the city from the countryside."

Qin Huairu had to go to the factory to cover for her, so I was in charge of looking after her.

Jia Dongming's gaze returned to Xiao Dang's face.

The child hunched his shoulders, his eyes filled with fear.

He approached, knelt down, and naturally picked her up. "I'm your uncle,"

His voice was gentle. "Tell your uncle, what's your name? How old are you?"

When she was picked up, Xiaodang trembled slightly.

Perhaps it was the closeness of blood ties, but she looked up at the unfamiliar yet gentle face and whispered, "Uncle, my name is Xiaodang, and I'm four years old."

That's my little sister, Xiao Huaihua. Mom says she's seven months old.

The child was so light it made my heart clench; his hair was dry, yellow, and sparse.

Jia Dongming suppressed his pity and softened his tone: "Little Dang is so good."

Your uncle wants to reward you with a piece of candy; I'll take you to get it now.

"Dongming,"

Madam Jia quickly interjected, "What's a little girl like her doing eating candy?"

Jia Dongming was separated from his mother when he was eight years old and had no ties to the family he was born into.

If it weren't for the lingering obsession in his consciousness, he might not have recognized her.

Upon hearing these words, the smile on his face faded. He turned around, holding Xiaodang, and said in a calm but cold voice, "Mother, regardless of gender, they are all Dongxu's flesh and blood."

"In the Jia family, there is no distinction between high and low, noble and lowly, and there should be no such thing as a 'money-losing good'."

If you still want me to acknowledge this mother, then don't call the two children that anymore.

In her life, Lady Jia lost her son in her early years and her husband in middle age.

Living in an era of cold interpersonal relationships and people who were used to exploiting others, she had long been riddled with holes by insecurity.

Last year, Jia Dongxu died in an accident, and the last bit of security she had left was crumbling. She was terrified that her daughter-in-law would remarry and abandon her and her three helpless children.

For her, Jia Dongming's appearance was like grabbing a piece of driftwood in a turbulent current.

Hearing his admonition, she dared not throw a tantrum as usual, and could only anxiously promise, "Dongming, Mom knows, Mom won't call me that anymore... Please don't abandon Mom..."

Hearing the fear in the voice, and influenced by the last vestige of hope in his heart, Jia Dongming sighed.

He needs less trouble. "Mom,"

He softened his tone, "I don't know how you've been all these years."

But now that I'm back, I won't let you go hungry.

My monthly salary of 135 yuan is more than enough to support you, and even with my younger brother's family, I can manage.

"One hundred and thirty-five yuan?"

Jia Zhangshi's eyes suddenly lit up; her initial fear was instantly overshadowed by greed. "Really? This...this is even higher than Yi Zhonghai's!"

"Yi Zhonghai?"

Jia Dongming then asked, "Who is that? Is he also at the steel rolling mill? I was demobilized due to my military service, and the factory took care of me and gave me a level 15 salary."

Could this Yi Zhonghai be a cadre in the factory?

Hearing "battle achievements"

"Career Change"

A hint of smugness flashed across Jia Zhangshi's face.

But the mere mention of Yi Zhonghai instantly turned his smugness into resentment: "Him? What kind of cadre! He's just a level eight worker, earning only ninety-nine yuan a month!"

Her words were dripping with years of resentment, referring to that "old childless man."

The three words were practically squeezed out from between his teeth.

After Jia Dongxu left, Jia Zhangshi had already seen through Yi Zhonghai's scheme.

What master-disciple relationship? It's nothing more than holding onto a card for retirement.

She wiped away her cloudy tears, her voice hoarse: "Afraid that Dongxu would become too independent and wouldn't acknowledge him as his master, he suppressed his level and hid his abilities... In the end, he even schemed to kill my son."

Jia Dongming listened quietly, realizing that his mother had a clearer understanding of the situation than he had.

Seeing that she was overcome with grief again, he softened his tone and changed the subject: "Mom, the factory allocated me a small courtyard right next to the factory."

It's a bit overgrown; if it's not cleaned up, it might not last overnight.

Those rooms were long coveted by Jia Zhangshi.