Courtyard House: Ten-year-old Master Zhu reorganizes the entire courtyard

October.

It's getting cold.

Human hearts are colder than the sky.

After that frenzy of exchanging gold yuan notes subsided, grain prices skyrocketed like a runaway horse, changing every single day—no, three times a day.

If you leave home in the morning with a sack of money, you can exchange it for a handful of rice.

By nightfall, the money was only enough to buy a bundle of chaff to feed the livestock.

Even this small courtyard at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang could not escape this fate.

The third uncle in the front yard, Yan Bugui, is like a door god, always standing at the gate, his eyes fixed on the hands of everyone who enters or leaves the yard. The calculations in his mind are louder than the firecrackers set off during the New Year.

Despite the noise, the rice in his own rice jar was almost empty.

In the backyard, in some nook or cranny.

Old Sun and his wife were old tailors who had no children and made a living by their needlework.

These past few days, not a trace of smoke has been seen in that house.

All that remained was Old Sun's coughing fit, one cough after another, sounding like someone was stabbing someone's ear with an awl, sending chills down one's spine.

He Yuzhu stood in the middle courtyard, listening, his brow furrowed in a deep knot.

He has grain.

Inside the system, they were piled up like mountains. In the cellar, they were stacked neatly.

The problem is, how should this grain be distributed?

Is it distributed with great fanfare, like gongs and drums?

That's because they think they have too much life.

Everyone in this courtyard has conjunctivitis.

Especially that old hag Jia Zhangshi, if she really smelled it, she could gnaw the doorframe of the He family on the spot, and then she would go to the authorities to accuse you of "hoarding and speculation" and collect the reward money.

This matter needs to be handled in a roundabout way.

at night.

At the foot of the wall, Xu Fugui was called over by He Yuzhu.

"Uncle Xu, this matter still requires your help." He Yuzhu handed over a pack of cigarettes and a small bag of cornmeal.

Xu Fugui snatched it, put the cigarette pack under his nose, and greedily inhaled the smoke.

"Zhu Zi, speak your mind. As long as you don't walk into the line of fire, I'll do whatever you want!"

"Take this to Old Sun in the backyard," He Yuzhu said, his voice barely audible, like a mosquito's hum.

"Remember, don't mention me. Just say that a couple of days ago a wealthy lady adorned with gold and silver asked him to alter her cheongsam. She didn't pay in cash, but used this fabric to settle her wages. And you were just the middleman."

Xu Fugui was taken aback at first, but his beady green eyes darted around and he understood perfectly.

So, doing good deeds anonymously requires building a firewall for yourself.

"Alright!" Xu Fugui stuffed the noodles into his pocket. "I'm good at lying. Zhuzi, your cunning... is only useful at times like this. If it were a peaceful era, you'd be a living Buddha in a temple."

"Uncle Xu, even bodhisattvas don't eat meat." He Yuzhu ignored this. "I just want to sleep soundly at night."

Besides Old Sun, there were a few other honest people in the courtyard who simply couldn't make a living.

He Yuzhu asked Chen Lanxiang to handle this matter.

Excuses are readily available.

"It was brought by relatives from my mother's side. They said the harvest was good this year and there was more than we could eat at home, so they shared some with the neighbors to have a taste."

A little cornmeal and two wilted cabbages.

The items are not valuable.

It can't save people from poverty, but it can keep them alive.

Meanwhile, at Jisheng Clinic, Lin Wanqiu's clinic was also busy.

Anyone who comes to the doctor looking poorly dressed and pale will have their consultation fee waived, and the cost of their medicine will be halved.

He Yuzhu secretly filled the deficit by exchanging penicillin for money on the black market.

No matter how airtight a matter is handled, there will always be some people with noses as sharp as dogs who can sniff out something amiss.

Jia Zhangshi.

This old hag was one of the dogs with the sharpest nose.

That afternoon, she was slumped at the door sewing shoe soles when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of smoke coming from the chimney of Old Sun's house.

That smell wafting over... it's the aroma of cornmeal porridge!

Her empty stomach rumbled, and her cravings immediately took over her poor little brain.

"Hey! Where did this old man with no descendants get his food?"

With a glare of her triangular eyes, Jia Zhangshi threw her shoe on the ground and darted into the backyard like a cannonball.

We just arrived at the Moon Gate.

Well, we've been intercepted.

Xu Damao.

This kid has been following He Yuzhu around lately, and his cleverness has visibly increased.

He was holding a dry twig in his hand, and was casually whipping the ground.

"Oh, Aunt Jia, did you follow the scent here?"

The smile on Xu Damao's face was as fake as could be.

Madam Jia's eyes darted around, as if she were on a whim.

"Da Mao, did you see that? Old Sun's house is cooking! Where did he get the money to buy grain? He didn't steal it, did he?"

"Steal?" Xu Damao chuckled, leaning forward mysteriously.

"Auntie, let me tell you, that's called 'yin de liang' (grain for good deeds)."

"What the hell?" Jia Zhangshi shuddered.

"Last night, I got up to use the bathroom. Good heavens, I saw a white shadow moving around in the backyard, and then it left something at Old Sun's door."

Xu Damao pinched his throat so high and thin that he looked just like a storyteller.

"I've heard that those are the wandering ghosts who have nowhere to reincarnate. They took pity on Old Sun and gave him some food to accumulate good karma. This kind of food... will shorten the lifespan of a living person if they eat it."

Jia Zhangshi's old face turned green in an instant.

She was greedy.

But she was even more afraid of ghosts.

"Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey! What bad luck!" Jia Zhangshi spat out two large mouthfuls of phlegm on the ground, turned and ran, patting her chest as she ran.

"I knew that smell was off! It had a muddy, earthy odor!"

Xu Damao chuckled as he watched her flee in terror.

This trick was taught to me by Brother Zhu.

To deal with this kind of stubborn person, we need to use drastic measures.

……

Late at night.

The moon was swallowed up by the dark clouds, not a single ray of light could be seen.

He Yuzhu changed into black clothes and carried a small cloth bag of sorghum rice, intending to deliver it to the widow in the front yard who was dragging three children.

He walked silently, like a cat.

We just passed the screen wall.

A tiny spark shone briefly in the pitch black before going out again.

someone.

He Yuzhu's feet remained rooted to the spot, his back muscles tense.

The man sat in the shadows under the veranda, a cigarette he had rolled himself between his fingers.

The cigarette butt flickered, illuminating a deeply lined old face.

Yi Zhonghai.

He didn't sleep; he just sat there, and heaven knows how long he sat there.

He Yuzhu didn't move or dodge.

At this critical juncture, to hide is to have a guilty conscience.

Yi Zhonghai raised his head, his gaze piercing through the darkness and fixed on the cloth bag in He Yuzhu's hand.

It's bulging and full; it's obviously grain.

The chirping of insects and the sound of the wind all around seemed to disappear all at once.

He Yuzhu gripped the bag tightly. Several thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant. He wouldn't go for the kill, but if that old guy yelled, today's plan would be ruined.

"Uncle Yi, it's so late, aren't you taking a break yet?"

He Yuzhu spoke first, his voice so steady that it was completely calm.

Yi Zhonghai took a deep drag on his cigarette, and the smoke he exhaled, like a cloud of fog, obscured his face.

He stood up and patted the dirt off his backside.

"Pillar."

My voice is a little hoarse.

He didn't ask what was in the bag, nor did he ask He Yuzhu where he was going.

He took two steps forward, and when he passed He Yuzhu, he paused.

"The road is slippery."

Yi Zhonghai's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing something.

"Be careful not to fall."

After saying that, he put his hands behind his back and slowly walked back into the house.

Close the door and lock it.

He Yuzhu stood there, staring at the closed door, his eyes flickering with light and shadow.

Yi Zhonghai saw it.

But he didn't expose it or say anything more; instead, he gave a reminder.

That old fox.

He Yuzhu's lips twitched very slightly.

It seems that this world can soften a person's bones, but it can also grind a crack into some people's hearts.

Yi Zhonghai is no good.

But he probably didn't want to watch the people in this courtyard starve to death.

As long as this matter doesn't affect his interests, he's happy to do such a favor.

He Yuzhu weighed the bag in his hand, turned around, and disappeared into the deeper night.

Row.

You turn a blind eye.

Then I'll continue performing this play for you.