Courtyard House: A Leisurely and Contented Life

The next day, Yang Jianye slept until the sun was high in the sky.

He opened his eyes and saw Yingzi already busy at the stove. He lifted the blanket, but the white cloth that had been laid out last night was nowhere to be seen—the things his mother-in-law had given him were of really good quality.

"Hey..." He grinned, put on his clothes, and headed towards the stove.

Hearing the noise, Yingzi turned around abruptly, accidentally aggravating her injury. She cried out "Ouch!" and stepped back. Yang Jianye reacted quickly, pulling her into his arms.

"Why don't you sleep a little longer?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

Yingzi blushed: "The sun's already high in the sky, is it still early?"

Yang Jianye glanced outside; it was getting late. But what could he do when he doted on his wife?

"It's Sunday, who cares if it's early or late?" He carried Yingzi back to the kang (heated brick bed), letting her lean against him. He wondered what to do today. It was their first day of marriage; they couldn't just stay home—though staying home seemed alright. But looking at her condition, Yang Jianye had to suppress the thought. There was plenty of time; no rush.

"After you eat, go to the public bathhouse for a soak. I've prepared a change of clothes." Yingzi nestled in his arms, her voice soft.

Yang Jianye asked, "And what about you?"

"I...I'm resting at home." Yingzi blushed again. Her body was uncomfortable, and any movement caused pain, which was hard to ignore.

"How about we go out for a walk?"

"No, it hurts to walk."

"Okay, then you rest, we'll go shopping another day."

Yang Jianye got off the kang (heated brick bed) to prepare food, only to find that Yingzi had already prepared it at the stove: steamed buns made from two kinds of flour, boiled eggs that had just been cooked that morning, and leftovers from last night...

Yingzi got up to help serve the dishes, but Yang Jianye told her to rest, which she refused to do. Helpless, he quickly set the food on the table before pressing her down to sit.

Two people, one table.

Four dishes—three meat dishes and one vegetable dish, with pickled vegetable dumplings in small plates, two boiled eggs, two steamed buns made from mixed flour, and a bowl of plain white porridge for each person. This treatment would normally be considered the standard for a leader.

Yang Jianye stirred the bowl of porridge with his chopsticks and asked curiously, "Yingzi, what is this?"

"Noodle soup... If you don't like it, I'll make you something else, I'll drink it." Yingzi said with her head down.

Upon hearing this, Yang Jianye picked up the bowl and gulped down more than half of it, wiping his mouth as he exclaimed, "Do you think your man is that delicate? This soup is delicious, and the noodles taste just right!"

Hearing him say that, Yingzi's worries vanished, and she smiled broadly. Ultimately, being able to eat one's fill is a blessing. For ordinary people, what they really want is a hot meal, right? There's no need for so many complicated things. Marrying Yang Jianye, Yingzi felt that her future days would be bright and promising.

Laughter echoed from one room to the other, while on the next bed, Jia Zhangshi was tossing and turning, cursing incessantly—she hadn't slept a wink all night.

"That despicable bastard, let's see how long he can be so smug... That vixen is no better, she looks sickly, she'll never be able to have a son!"

"That heartless bastard, his wife will die sooner or later!"

……

As Qin Huairu washed the dishes, she listened to her mother-in-law's curses and sighed inwardly: If you're so capable, go outside and curse! Why take it out on us, a widow and her children? But she couldn't do anything—she was working to fill her deceased husband's vacancy, and her deceased husband was this old woman's son. It wouldn't be right to ignore her.

Was Qin Huairu afraid of being gossiped about behind her back? Yes and no. If Jia Zhangshi treated Banggeng badly, she would risk being called a slut and break ties with that old woman. But Jia Zhangshi was truly amazing to her grandson: she wouldn't do any other chores, but whatever Banggeng wanted, she would get it for him without hesitation; she sewed shoe soles, made clothes, and took good care of her son.

For this reason alone, Qin Huairu could tolerate it. As long as she took good care of the children, even though she favored her two daughters, at least someone would look after them, allowing her to go to work at the factory with peace of mind. Otherwise, how could she feel at ease leaving her three children at home while she went to work alone?

The reason Madam Jia was able to control Qin Huairu was truly thanks to these three children. Otherwise, given Qin Huairu's abilities and Madam Jia's tantrums and tantrums, she would have been in her coffin long ago.

After dinner, Yang Jianye carried his things to the public bathhouse. He'd been scrubbing himself at home all week; it was time for a good soak. He also needed to go to the hardware market to buy some pipes and a stove, and get the water heater in the house sorted out. Then, he and Yingzi could finally relax comfortably…

"Yingzi, I'm leaving." He pushed his old bicycle out the door.

"Yes," came Yingzi's reply from inside the room. She was lying on the kang (a heated brick bed), her face growing redder and redder as she thought of something. She slowly shrank into the quilt, smiling like a ripe peach.

Just as Yang Jianye was walking out, the door of the house across the street creaked open.

"Jianye, are we going to the bathhouse?" Shazhu poked his head out.

"Ah, go wash up and get a good scrub," Yang Jianye said with a smile.

"Perfect, let's go together!"

Sha Zhu turned and went back into the house to get his things, without even waiting for Yang Jianye's reply. Looking at the half-open door, Yang Jianye was a little dumbfounded—even going to the bathhouse required joining a group, and there weren't many services available.

Okay, let's not push the bicycle anymore. We can ride it again after we wash it.

Before Sha Zhu could even come out, Liu Guangtian, the eldest son of the second uncle, rushed out with a towel draped over his arm: "Brother Jianye, can I come with you?"

Good heavens, when they left the hospital, not only Sha Zhu and Liu Guangtian, but even the eldest son of the Third Uncle, Yan Jiefang, came over. The whole group of men headed straight for the bathhouse at the alley entrance.

Once you arrive, you buy a ticket and go inside. These days, a bath ticket costs 15 cents. You can't pay separately for a back scrub; you have to buy a ticket too—one for a child, two for an adult, much more expensive than just a bath. But the masseur's skills are truly exceptional, especially since the men and women of Beijing are particular about their "face" and crave comfort. A back scrub requires not only force but also skill; a series of taps and pats, followed by a shoulder massage—oh, that feels so relaxing!

At the entrance, everyone bought their own tickets. Sha Zhu took three, apparently planning to get both a wash and a scrub; forty-five cents was nothing to him. Yang Jianye did the same, readily handing over forty-five cents. When it was Liu Guangtian's and Yan Jiefang's turn, they each only bought one bath ticket. They felt a little embarrassed when they took their tickets, thinking it was shameful that everyone else was getting a scrub while they were just washing.

Yang Jianye saw it but didn't say anything, thinking to himself: This pointless pride. These days, being able to eat your fill is a blessing, being able to come to a bathhouse is already a good thing. How many people only go to a bathhouse for the first time after getting married? When you guys start working and earning money, come and scrub yourselves to your heart's content, that's what real men do.

Upon entering the bathhouse, a wave of hot steam hit them, creating a hazy, misty atmosphere. Everyone took off their clothes in the steam and stuffed them into the lockers, not caring if they got lost—they were all neighbors, and besides, who comes to a bathhouse fully clothed? They were all grown men, and there was an inevitable sense of competition. Sha Zhu glanced down and chuckled: "Little brat, useless!" But then, seeing Yang Jianye, his smile froze, and he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, falling silent.

He arrived rather late; a layer of foam floated on the surface of the large pool. Yang Jianye picked up a fine net from the poolside, cleaned the water thoroughly, and then went into the water. Sha Zhu and the others, who had been soaking in the pool for a while, were wiping their necks with wet towels. Seeing him come in, they laughed, "Jianye, you're quite particular."

Yang Jianye smiled and pointed to the pool: "Just like people, we don't care what's inside, but the surface has to look presentable, right?"

Sha Zhu nodded, agreeing that it made sense—cultured people do speak differently.

"Jianye, I have a question for you." Liu Guangtian and Yan Jiefang were resting by the pool, their heads tilted back, when Shazhu came over and whispered.

"Please ask," Yang Jianye said.

Sha Zhu looked around, not seeing anyone he knew, before quietly asking, "Jianye, what do you think of this old man...?"

"..."

Yang Jianye was at a loss for words when asked this question. Especially since the person who asked it was He Yuzhu himself.

"Sniff, sniff..."

During the midday nap, Banggeng, who was lying on the kang (a heated brick bed), suddenly jumped up, slipped off the bed, and ran outside.

"Bang, slow down, don't fall!" This time, Madam Jia didn't scold him, but quickly asked about her grandson.

No sooner had she finished speaking than Banggeng, who had run out, turned back and clung to Qin Huairu's leg, swaying back and forth: "Mom, mutton, I want to eat mutton."

Qin Huairu, who was working, laughed and scolded, "This child, why are you eating mutton at noon? Besides, where did you get the mutton?"

"Outside, I smell it!" Banggeng pointed outside, then turned and rushed to his grandmother—in his heart, his mother was becoming less and less affectionate towards him than his grandmother. "Grandma, I want to eat mutton! Mutton smells so good!"

Just then, the aroma of stewed mutton wafted in. Madam Jia sniffed hard and cursed, "Who's the scoundrel who's spewing this mutton stew on a holiday? Who are they trying to tempt?"

According to her logic, no one in this courtyard should eat well. If anyone is to eat, it should be her family first, otherwise it's immoral.

Inside Yang Jianye's house, Yingzi was simmering soup with the lamb bones she had removed. Her husband had been tired yesterday, so she needed something good to nourish him today. She chopped off the lamb leg bones and started simmering them. Once the soup boiled, she added a few slices of lamb, some soaked vermicelli, and a sprinkle of scallions. She also made a ring of flatbread with a mixture of flour and water, arranging it around the edge of the pot. The steam from the lamb soup slowly cooked the flatbread, and she enjoyed it with a bowl of piping hot, fragrant lamb soup…

Hearing the cursing coming from outside the window, Yingzi, who was sitting in front of the stove, picked up a palm-leaf fan and fanned the window a few times.

"Wow—lamb! I want to eat it, I want to eat it..."

Hearing Banggeng's cries, Yingzi felt relieved.

Yang Jianye, who originally planned to go to the hardware market after taking a shower, was delayed in the afternoon because of Sha Zhu's interference.

What kind of person is Yi Zhonghai, this old man? This is a rather profound question.

You could call him a good person, since he did a lot of planning for his retirement; but you couldn't call him utterly wicked either. Ultimately, he was just an ordinary person in this era, confined by his own desires.

Yang Jianye didn't give Sha Zhu any definite answer, only reminding him: "Brother Zhu, there are some things you'd better ask him face to face and clarify things."

So, after the group returned from the bathhouse, Yang Jianye smelled the aroma of his family's mutton and went back to his house. Sha Zhu, on the other hand, limped straight to Uncle Yi's house, and shouted as he entered, "Uncle Yi, let's have a couple of drinks today!"

Grandpa Yi Zhonghai was naturally delighted and hurriedly urged Grandma Yi to prepare a couple of snacks to go with his drinks. He earned ninety-nine yuan a month, and even with the cost of Grandma Yi's medicine, he was still better off than most families in the neighborhood. Having worked most of his life, with no children, how much could the elderly couple possibly eat? They had at least three to five thousand yuan in savings. This money was their lifeline, their only means of support in times of emergency, and they would never touch it unless it was a matter of life and death.

"Uncle, let's have a drink together, you and I." Sha Zhu raised his glass first.

Yi Zhonghai greeted him with a broad smile. These past few days, Sha Zhu had been ignoring him, which had been worrying him greatly. Now that Sha Zhu had come to his door for drinks, how could he not be happy? Even the old lady had a smile on her face, and her complexion had improved.

"Zhu Zi, eat more vegetables."

"I'll do it myself, ma'am, you eat too."

"Alright, alright, you two drink more."

An older woman was happy, an older man was happy, but Sha Zhu had something on his mind, and he drank with a heavy heart. After three cups, he felt it was time, put down his chopsticks, and suddenly spoke:

"Sir, are you thinking of having me take care of you in your old age?"

Geek!

Yi Zhonghai's heart skipped a beat, his hand holding the chopsticks trembled, and the smile on his face froze.

Seeing his reaction, Sha Zhu understood perfectly: that really was his plan.

The older woman also put down her chopsticks, her earlier joy turning into worry. Her lips moved, but she didn't say anything.

The room, which had been peaceful just moments before, suddenly fell into an awkward silence.

"Silly Zhu, I..." Yi Zhonghai's mind raced, trying to find a way to smooth things over.

To everyone's surprise, the silly guy across from him suddenly grinned and said, "Fine, I'll take care of you in your old age."

Yi Zhonghai was stunned, thinking he had misheard: "You... what did you say?"

"I said, I'll take care of you in your old age," Sha Zhu said decisively, picking up a piece of meat and stuffing it into his mouth. He chewed as he spoke, "Why didn't you just tell me sooner? It's just cooking and tidying up the house. After I get married and have two big, healthy sons, you can help take care of them. It would be best if we also had a daughter, someone thoughtful, so she could easily do the washing and cleaning before she leaves home. You can contribute some grain and vegetable money, and I'll cook the meals; we'll live together. Cooking for one person is cooking, cooking for the whole family is cooking, isn't that what I do?"

He paused, scratched his head, and chuckled sheepishly. "Uncle, I'm straightforward, so I'll be frank. You'll definitely be leaving before me, so I'll help with the funeral arrangements. Just pay someone to handle it; you can choose a place yourself beforehand, I don't know anything about that. I'll take you to your final resting place, and then on holidays and festivals, burning paper money and remembering your passing won't be difficult. Even if I get too old to walk someday, I still have my children. They grew up around you, how could they not be close to you?"

Yi Zhonghai listened, nodding repeatedly, his throat tightening, saying, "Yes, yes..."

The older woman's eyes were already red from listening, and she kept wiping them with her handkerchief. The pent-up frustration she had held in for years seemed to be blown away by a gust of wind, giving her a sense of bittersweet relief. The thought of children calling her "Grandpa" and "Grandma" in the future warmed her heart.

"Then it's settled. After I get married, we'll live together." Sha Zhu happily made the decision.

Upon hearing the word "marriage," Yi Zhonghai instinctively felt a pang of resistance, but the thought of the child suppressed that resistance. Looking back now, what was the point of all that scheming and maneuvering? Knowing that Sha Zhu was straightforward, why not just be honest with him? He had the money; he could find a burial plot himself; and since the person was gone, he could simply pay for the arrangements. Wasn't his only concern the lack of arrangements? With Sha Zhu involved, what was there to fear?

Then there's the child. He originally favored Banggeng, but he also knew in his heart that with a grandmother like Jia Zhangshi, how good could that child be? He was just stubborn at the time, knowingly jumping into a pit of fire. Now, with Shazhu's straightforwardness stirring things up, that stubbornness in his heart suddenly dissipated, and reason returned.

Yi Zhonghai suddenly understood: Sha Zhu's idea was far superior to all his previous convoluted schemes! Living together would only require him to contribute a little more money. When Sha Zhu had children in the future, and the children had no elders, wouldn't he and his wife become ready-made grandparents? Raising them from a young age, how could they not be close when they grew up? Even if he lived a long life, he would still have grandchildren around him then, so what was there to fear?

As for the choice of a wife... Yi Zhonghai's mind started to wander, and he felt that she should be like Yang Jianye's wife, Li Ying - she listens to the man at home and is fierce and capable of handling things outside.

As the old man pondered this, he suddenly felt that there was hope for the future.

Once people have something to look forward to, their lives immediately become more vibrant.

The father and son enjoyed their drinks, their laughter filling the courtyard.

Xu Damao happened to be passing by the door when he heard the noise and wondered to himself, "What good news is there? Why are they so happy?"

He didn't dare to peek over the wall in broad daylight, and left with his doubts. As he passed Yang Jianye's house, he craned his neck to peek inside, and unconsciously swallowed hard—it smelled so good!

Thin pancakes rolled with mutton, one bite after another.

Yang Jianye ate until he was covered in sweat, but he felt extremely happy: This is what it means to live life.

Look at Yingzi's cooking skills, and then think about the few meals I used to make that were just a waste of food.

"Yingzi, can you ride a bicycle?"

While eating, Yang Jianye remembered that work was scheduled to start tomorrow. If Li Ying didn't know how, he had to teach her quickly; if she did, he would find some time to go to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy a vehicle.

He spent a lot on furniture, buying a large wooden ladle, and hosting a banquet, but Yang Jianye still had plenty of money.

Not to mention three months' salary, the 1,000 yuan bonus from the factory alone is enough to cover my expenses.

Otherwise, why would he have thought of treating his coworkers to a meal? When Director Yang gave him the fine white flour coupons, he also told him not to make a fuss, because giving too much would attract envy.

Yang Jianye meticulously noted down the total amount of money his fellow workers gave him as a gift: 28.5 yuan.

Those who are well-off give a dollar, those who are struggling give fifty cents; it's all a favor. In the future, if anyone has a wedding or funeral, they'll have to repay it.

Don't complain about the small amount. These days, for an ordinary family to contribute even one yuan to a banquet is considered generous. Besides, although the master chef's salary isn't low, every family has its own troubles. They have to support their young children and care for their elderly parents—it's tough!

"I can ride it. I've ridden my dad's bike before, but it's too big."

My father-in-law's car is a second-hand 28-inch motorcycle. He picks up his colleague's used car to save money, and it's enough for commuting.

Li Ying picked up a glass noodle and put it in her mouth; the bowl of clear soup contained no meat.

Yang Jianye frowned as he watched, taking several pieces of meat from his own bowl and giving it to Yang Jianye: "What I eat, you eat. If you do this again, we can't eat this meal."

Li Ying lowered her head, secretly glancing up at him, and softly uttered "Hey."

It's so good to have a man who loves you.

Seeing her start eating the meat, Yang Jianye smiled and said, "As long as you can ride, that's fine. Eat up."

He finished his meal in a few bites, and after Li Ying finished eating, he threw his bowl and chopsticks into the stove basin, then pulled her out.

"Where are we going?" Li Ying asked, following him with a curious look.

"Going to the market to find tickets."

Yang Jianye mounted his old-fashioned bicycle and rode towards Ciqikou.

The market should be open by now. I'll try my luck and see if I can get a bicycle voucher. If all goes well, I can go to the supply and marketing cooperative to get my bike today; if not, it'll just be a few days' delay. At worst, I'll get up early every day, take her to the food factory first, and then back to the steel rolling mill—consider it exercise.

As we approached Ciqikou, we could see people squatting on both sides of the road, with baskets and straw mats at their feet—these were the stalls of various vendors.

Upon entering, one is overwhelmed by the sheer variety. Food, drinks, toys, household items, the dead and the living... they sell everything imaginable.

The stall owners were all dressed simply, their faces bearing the marks of time.

Yang Jianye didn't look closely at the stall; he was only glancing at the people behind him. Li Ying, on the other hand, stared at the stall with bright eyes; just browsing around made her happy.

Halfway there, Yang Jianye spotted a person squatting under the shade of a tree, looking left and right as if waiting for someone.

He parked the car, had Li Ying watch over it, and then walked over. The man saw him too.

Upon reaching them, Yang Jianye asked directly, "Do you have tickets?"

The other person shook their head and remained silent.

"I won't buy it, I'll change it." Yang Jianye took out the radio ticket and showed it to the other party.

The moment the ticket was shown, the other party's eyes lit up—these days, entrapment isn't allowed; if you show a ticket and say you're exchanging someone, you really mean it. If you were to arrest someone, you'd be breaking the rules first, a much bigger offense; nobody's stupid enough to do that.

"What kind of tickets?"

"The bicycle, I'll buy it," Yang Jianye changed his mind.

The other party was not surprised. Asking about "exchange" earlier was a test, but saying "buy" now is the real intention.

"What brand do you want?"

"Brand doesn't matter, it's a women's car."

"Yes, it's 275 permanently, I'll give you thirty-five yuan and eighty cents."

"Too high." Yang Jianye squatted down, offered a cigarette, and said, "Twenty."

"Hey!" The other person pushed the cigarette back. "Is this how you haggle? Forever, 275!"

"How many of those twenty do you have? I'll take them all."

Yongjiu, Fenghuang, and Feige are widely recognized as the three major brands, each with its own supporters. Some consider Fenghuang the best, others believe Yongjiu is the most reliable, and still others think Jinlu (formerly Yefang) is the most durable. The person in front of us is clearly a "Yongjiu supporter."

But regardless of the brand, there are very few women's cars – low production volume, few models, and few tickets available.

These days, people say "women hold up half the sky," but that's only in the workplace. In life, it's still a different story. The label of "money-losing burden" weighs heavily on them; just surviving is considered a feat. In an average family, if there's a car, it's usually reserved for the men. It's rare to see a family buying a women's car for their wife.