I feel right at home in the world of the courtyard house.

At 3:30 p.m., Li Jing'an left the office early. He rode his Forever brand bicycle with a net bag hanging from the handlebars, containing two bottles of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), two cartons of Daqianmen cigarettes, and two pieces of cured meat wrapped in oil paper.

I rode through the gates of the steel mill onto the familiar streets. The autumn wind blew, and the leaves of the poplar trees along the roadside had begun to turn yellow. Occasionally, a few leaves would drift down and twirl in the air.

A couple of days ago, Li Jing'an's father specifically asked him to visit his cousin's family in Jiuxianqiao. His second cousin was getting married after the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the family was busy, so he wanted to see if he could help in any way. His cousin's family all worked at a farm in the eastern suburbs; his eldest cousin was a tractor driver, and his second cousin was a technician. They all had good jobs and were considered a respectable family.

It takes more than forty minutes to cycle from the steel mill to Jiuxianqiao. Li Jing'an pedaled leisurely, watching the scenery along the way. Beijing hasn't changed much in recent years; it's still the same gray buildings and the same pedestrians in blue-gray clothes. But some places are quietly changing—a few more new buildings have been built, a few more bicycles are on the road, and occasionally a green Jeep can be seen whizzing by.

As we approached Jiuxianqiao, the sky gradually darkened. Autumn in Beijing gets dark early; it was only a little past five o'clock, and the horizon was already tinged with orange-red.

My uncle's house was in an old-style residential area, with rows of red brick bungalows, each with a small courtyard. Li Jing'an parked his bicycle at the gate and went inside carrying his things.

Several jujube trees stood in the yard, their branches laden with ripe, red jujubes. Neatly stacked coal briquettes lay in the corner. The door to the main room was ajar, and the sound of a radio broadcasting the news drifted from within.

"Auntie!" Li Jing'an called out.

The door opened, and a woman in her forties peeked out. Seeing Li Jing'an, her face immediately lit up with a smile: "Jing'an's here! Come in, come in!"

This is my aunt. She's not very tall, and her hair is tied up in a bun at the back of her head. She's wearing a dark blue, faded jacket, but it's very clean.

Li Jing'an walked into the house and placed the things on the table. His aunt frowned when she saw the cigarettes, alcohol, and cured meat: "You silly child, you came all this way, why did you bring so much stuff! Your uncle will scold you again if he finds out."

"It's nothing special, just a small token of my appreciation," Li Jing'an said with a smile. "My second cousin is getting married, and I can't really help much, so this is just a little something extra."

His aunt pulled Li Jing'an to sit down at the table, looking him up and down: "You've lost weight again. Are you busy with work? How's your eating? You live alone, so you have to take good care of yourself."

"I'm fine, Auntie, don't worry." Li Jing'an felt a warmth in his heart.

"Your uncles will be off work soon, I'll start cooking now." My aunt got up and walked towards the kitchen. "We'll eat here tonight."

"I'll help you."

"No need, no need, sit down and rest for a while." My aunt waved her hand. "You must be tired from riding your bike here. Have some water."

Auntie went to the kitchen, and Li Jing'an sat inside. It was a typical old-style Beijing house, not large, but very tidy. A portrait of Chairman Mao and several certificates of merit hung on the wall, and a Sanwu brand clock sat on the cabinet, its pendulum swinging rhythmically from side to side. Several potted plants sat on the windowsill, one of which was a rose in full bloom, its red flowers appearing particularly vibrant under the dim light.

At six o'clock, footsteps and voices could be heard in the courtyard. The door opened, and my uncle, two younger cousins, and my eldest cousin's wife returned.

My uncle, Li Xingbang, was a tall, robust man in his fifties with dark skin, the result of years of working in the fields. When he saw Li Jing'an, he paused for a moment, then laughed, "Jing'an's here! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I got off work early today, so I came to check on things," Li Jing'an said, standing up.

My eldest cousin, Li Jingtang, and my second cousin, Li Jingting, also gathered around. The eldest cousin, like our uncle, was burly and spoke in a loud voice; the second cousin was more refined, wearing glasses and looking very scholarly.

"Brother, you're here!" Second cousin Li Jingting said happily. "Perfect timing, I was just about to talk to you about our wedding."

When his uncle saw the things on the table, his face darkened: "Jing'an, what are you doing! You're always taking things from me. Don't do this again!"

"Uncle, this is just a small token of my appreciation," Li Jing'an said. "Jingting is getting married, and as his older brother, I can't just leave without saying anything."

Uncle sighed and patted Li Jing'an on the shoulder: "Alright, don't do it again." He then turned to Aunt and said, "Stir-fry the cured pork too, we'll have an extra dish tonight."

My aunt responded from the kitchen. My sister-in-law also went to the kitchen to help.

Dinner was very plentiful.

Everyone sat around the table, eating and chatting.

Uncle took a bite of food, put down his chopsticks, and looked at Li Jingting: "Jing'an, you're not an outsider, so I'll be frank. The harvest isn't good right now. I've already spoken with the girl's family, and we'll skip the engagement ceremony and go straight to the wedding. Although we work on the farm and don't lack food, I don't want to be too conspicuous."

"We'll set the wedding date after the Mid-Autumn Festival," my uncle continued. "Then Jingting will go and inform you and your dad."

Li Jingtang, the eldest cousin, interjected, "Brother, how's it going at the steel mill? What position have you been assigned?"

"It's alright. He's just a guesthouse manager," Li Jing'an mumbled in response.

Li Jing'an's aunt picked up a piece of cured meat with her chopsticks: "Eat more, you're so thin. You live alone, you need to eat well."

"Thank you, Auntie." Li Jing'an himself didn't know where she had lost weight.

They chatted about everyday things over dinner: the harvest from the farm in the eastern suburbs, anecdotes from the neighbors, and the changes in Beijing. His uncle's family were all honest and straightforward people, speaking frankly and without beating around the bush. Li Jing'an really liked this atmosphere—simple, warm, and free of the complicated interpersonal relationships and backstabbing he encountered at the steel mill.

After dinner, it was completely dark. Li Jing'an checked his watch; it was almost eight o'clock.

"Uncle, Aunt, I have to go back now." He stood up. "I have to go to work tomorrow."

"It's so late, why don't you stay here?" my aunt said.

"No, I have to go to the factory first thing tomorrow morning." Li Jing'an put on his coat. "Jingting, be sure to let me know when you've set a date."

It was already 8:30 when I got back to the courtyard house. The courtyard was quiet; at this time, most people were already asleep. Beijingers have a habit of going to bed early and getting up early, especially ordinary families, who generally don't leave the lights on for too long at night to save electricity.

As he passed the courtyard, he went past the window of the Jia family's house. The door was closed, but a faint light shone from the window. Suddenly, he heard a boy's voice:

"Mom, I'm hungry." is a Korean joke.

Then came a woman's voice, very soft, and it was hard to hear what she was saying, but it was probably Qin Huairu comforting her son.

Li Jing'an slowed his pace and listened intently. But the Jia family's windows were quickly closed, isolating the sound inside.

He stood there for a while, then went back to his house.

Li Jing'an took off his coat, lay down on the bed, put his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.

Qin Huairu… The image of that woman flashed through his mind. She maintained a great figure and had fair skin. Most importantly, her delicate expression made one want to bully her.

The week is almost over, and there's still no word from her.

"He's pretty resilient," Li Jing'an muttered to himself.

He recalled a scene from a TV drama—in another timeline, Li Huaide was the deputy factory director, and even then, he couldn't get his way. That woman still had her bottom line and principles; they weren't so easily broken.

Li Jing'an turned over and lay on his side. The chirping of insects came from outside the window, rising and falling, like a symphony of an autumn night.

It seems we need to think of another way. Forcing her won't work; Qin Huairu isn't that kind of person. Bribing her won't work either; although she's poor, she has backbone. So what should we do?

Suddenly, Li Jing'an remembered the sound he had just heard in the Intermediate Court—a stick.

A slow smile crept onto Li Jing'an's lips. He had an idea, a way to start with the stick.

Hehe ~