Courtyard House: A System Connecting Two Worlds, Resources for the Nation

The old items from Zhou Feng's side were continuously delivered to his home by Xu Damao and the others, making their lives more and more hopeful.

But for Uncle Cha, who lives just two streets away, things weren't so easy.

A few days ago, when he brought home 15 kilograms of rice and five eggs, he stood up straighter than usual!

As his son, Cha Huaijin was labeled a "black five categories" member and could only work in a street factory pasting cardboard boxes, earning less than 20 yuan a month.

Their family quotas for rationed goods like grain and cloth were often reduced, especially for those classified as "black five categories."

They also have to attend political study sessions and accept criticism at the drop of a hat.

This income is far from enough to support his family, but Uncle Cha is still clinging to his identity and refusing to go out to work. How could his family not resent him?

Although the colorful porcelain hat stand was passed down from my ancestors, it wasn't particularly important.

The family's eyes lit up when they saw the white rice and eggs, and even the tone of his wife and children softened a bit when they spoke to him.

They replaced five pounds of rice with a mix of whole grains, and added some fried eggs. The family finally got to eat something oily, which helped to dispel much of his melancholy about replacing his hat.

It's just a matter of sitting around and running out of money!

A young boy, along with the couple, ate to their hearts' content. The rice, weighing over ten kilograms, seemed like a lot, but it didn't last long.

Only a few days have passed, and now there's only a little over half of the food left at home.

That evening, when Cha Huaijin returned from working outside, he found that his family had served him only thin coarse grain porridge and boiled cabbage. His face immediately fell.

"Mom, the porridge today is way too watery. How can I have the energy to work if I eat this? They'll dock my pay!"

Being labeled one of the "Five Black Categories" meant they were in an absolutely disadvantageous position within the social class system, and even if they were deliberately harassed, no one would stand up for them.

"So what if it's a little watery? After all, none of our good stuff is edible or drinkable!"

The child's mother slammed down her chopsticks in annoyance, her eyes constantly glancing towards the main room.

She was listening in the back room when Zhou Feng quoted the price, but she never expected that her husband would actually refuse because he felt sorry for that broken thumb ring!

She knew that the thumb ring was a valuable item, and even the things in the main room were valuable items that might become very valuable in a few years or a decade.

But you'd have to live for at least another ten years!

Our family is currently living paycheck to paycheck; all our income goes towards food, and that's barely enough to get by.

But we can't ignore other expenses either!

Just as cooking requires seasonings, making clothes requires fabric.

If we don't buy coal in winter, are we just going to freeze to death?

Grandpa Cha slurped his porridge, head down, without uttering a word.

Cha Huaijin hesitated for a moment, then sighed.

"Dad, I know you're reluctant to part with those old things; they're the keepsakes Grandpa left you... but keepsakes... can't put food on the table!"

"Winter is almost here, and we can't even afford coal, let alone thick cotton quilts. What are we going to do then?"

Hearing his son's words, Grandpa Cha didn't even raise his head, but he silently tightened his grip on the spoon until his knuckles turned white.

After the mother and son finished their meal, they went about their own business. Grandpa Cha sat alone in the armchair in the main room, looking at his grandfather clock, then at the calligraphy and paintings on the wall, constantly stroking the thumb ring on his finger.

Finally, he let out a long sigh, as if he had made up his mind.

He filled a basin with water again, soaked his thumb ring in it, then carefully wiped it clean inside and out with a cotton cloth, and then wrapped it up.

Early the next morning, Uncle Cha put on his faded blue jacket, buttoning each button meticulously, before stepping out of the house.

At this moment, Zhou Feng had just seen off a neighbor who had secretly come over.

"This small bowl of yours is from a folk kiln; it's quite old. Would five catties of rice be enough?"

"become!"

Both parties happily agreed with each other's ideas.

The exchange had just been completed when Zhou Feng heard several knocks on the door. He looked up and saw Uncle Cha standing expressionlessly at his door.

Although the door was open, the other person still knocked three times lightly and waited for him to speak.

"Mr. Cha, what brings you here? Please come in!"

Zhou Feng glanced at the door and then waved to the outside.

Such an action was considered extremely impolite in Master Cha's eyes, but he seemed not to notice, forcing a smile as he walked in.

Even now, standing in front of Zhou Feng, he felt a sense of nervous helplessness, and the composure he had deliberately maintained at Zhou Feng's house was gone.

"Comrade Zhou... Comrade Zhou Feng... I... after thinking it over, I've decided... I'll give you that thumb ring!"

After finishing his sentence in fits and starts, Master Cha seemed to have all his strength drained away, and his whole body swayed.

"Oh? You've figured it out now?"

Zhou Feng raised an eyebrow, picked up the enamel mug on the table, and took a sip of tea.

"I've figured it out!"

Uncle Cha sighed, took out the thumb ring wrapped in cotton cloth from his pocket, and placed it on the table in front of Zhou Feng.

"Let's go with the price you mentioned last time! Fifteen catties of rice, fifteen catties of flour, twenty eggs, and a piece of pork fat about two fingers wide."

Putting everything else aside, Mr. Cha remembers this price very clearly, but now that he says it out loud, he feels his face burning with embarrassment.

Zhou Feng smiled, put down the enamel mug in his hand, and spread his hands around.

"Uncle Cha, times have changed! Don't be fooled by the fact that only a few days have passed; look how much I've received. Goods are worthless now, but grain is precious, isn't it?"

Uncle Cha's lips moved, but he didn't directly refute it. Instead, he murmured, "Then you see... how much can I get for this ring now?"

Zhou Feng's fingers tapped lightly on the table, the 'tap-tap' sound seeming to control Cha Ye's heartbeat, making him instinctively feel that his breathing was somewhat out of control.

"How about this? You've really had a tough time. The rice, noodles, and eggs are the same as always, but we'll skip the meat. How does that sound?"

"what?"

Upon hearing Zhou Feng's words, Uncle Cha's eyes widened instantly, and he waved his hands frantically, saying, "Comrade Zhou, you can't do this! This...this is way too little!"

In this day and age, fat is really a good thing!

Not only can the rendered lard be used for stir-frying, but the leftover cracklings also have a meaty flavor and taste especially delicious.

Even if he doesn't eat it, he can still exchange it for a lot of things in the pigeon market.

This two-finger-width piece of fat is far more valuable than rice and eggs!

"Master Cha".

Zhou Feng sighed, looking helpless.

"As you know, the situation is tense right now, and getting anything isn't easy. The price I'm offering is already out of consideration for our previous collaborations. Or... why don't you go back and think about it again?"