Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

Lou Xiao'e stood on tiptoe and straightened his scarf: "Ride carefully on the road, see you at the bookstore tomorrow."

He Yuzhu straddled the bicycle, with a bamboo gift basket strapped to the back seat, and with a push of the wheels, headed straight for the courtyard.

Lou Xiao'e turned around and went back into the house, stepping lightly into the living room.

"Dad, Mom, don't take this hothead too seriously. He can't even control his tongue. Getting angry at him will only make us look petty."

Lou's mother waved her hand, smiled and sighed, "We're not angry, we were just startled—such a fine young man, why does he talk like he's been squeezed by a door! Alright, alright, you should go and rest."

Mr. Lou took off his glasses and wiped them, his tone calm: "Once you two get married, you'll have to put in a lot of effort to teach him to be mindful of the occasion and how to conduct himself appropriately. Otherwise, he might offend people from afar with just a few words."

Lou Xiao'e moved closer to her mother and sat down next to her, shaking her arm playfully, "I know! If I bump into him at the bookstore tomorrow, I'll drag him over to apologize right away!"

Lou's father nodded: "Yes, go to bed early."

The three of them tacitly agreed not to mention the unresolved issue of severing ties with their relatives.

Mr. Lou put his arm around Mrs. Lou and they went back to their room. As soon as the lights were turned on, the door was gently closed.

"The higher-ups set the tone long ago; otherwise, how could a cook just wandering around the stove possibly hear a whisper of it?"

Lou's mother unscrewed the enamel mug lid and blew on it to cool it down: "What are you planning to do next?"

Lou's father stared at the yellowed old calendar on the wall and said slowly, "If Zhuzi insists on taking this path, then let him go. We'll handle the severance of ties when their wedding date is closer—clean and efficient."

Lou's mother was taken aback: "You mean... you mean you won't accept a bride price or hold a banquet, and you're just letting Xiao'e go with him all by herself?"

Lou's father nodded: "Isn't she going to bring Zhuzi to apologize the day after tomorrow? We'll discuss it then."

Lou's mother shook her head and chuckled softly—this child, she can't even detect the hidden barbs in his words, which makes her easy to care for. But when the truth is revealed in the future, she'll probably cry until half her pillow is soaked.

He Yuzhu pedaled his bicycle into the alleyway of the courtyard house, the wheels rustling as they rolled over a few wild grasses sprouting from the cracks in the blue bricks.

Pushing the cart into the courtyard, it was so quiet that you could hear the lingering tremor of the wind chimes on the eaves. The courtyard was pitch black; even the old lamp under the eaves wasn't lit. I guessed everyone was still watching a film at the factory.

He had just stood at his own door when a series of low, but unmistakably joyful laughs suddenly came from the front yard, like a pot of water just boiling, bubbling and steaming.

He turned back into the house and divided the contents of the gift basket into three portions: a packet of osmanthus cake, two bottles of honey, and a small bag of freshly ground sesame powder. Before leaving, he turned back and locked the door with a "click."

I strolled over to the old lady's house and saw the dim yellow light reflected on the window paper, so I gently pushed the door open and went in.

"Grandma, Happy Mid-Autumn Festival! I brought you a piece of five-nut pastry, did you try it today?"

The old lady was sewing shoe soles by the light of a kerosene lamp when she looked up and smiled: "Silly child, I already ate them! I steamed some jujube cakes myself, and even stuffed two into the hands of an older woman, insisting she go to the factory to watch a movie—being in a crowd is much better than having to stay with this old woman like me."

She's always like this, preferring to swallow her loneliness herself rather than upset others. Today, the factory is bustling with activity; if this old lady were left alone at home, sitting there alone, she'd probably be secretly wiping away tears.

Mid-Autumn Festival should be a day of bustling crowds, but she was alone in the empty courtyard, stitching away the passing time in the lamplight—her loneliness was so palpable that anyone who glanced at her felt their heart tighten.

As the two were chatting, the curtain was lifted, and an elderly man and woman walked in side by side.

An old man shook his sleeves, placed the cloth bag on the table, and said, "Mom, these are freshly baked red bean rolls. Eat them while they're hot!"

An older woman glanced at He Yuzhu sideways and said in a clear voice, "Silly Zhu, you're off early today! The screen's not even dark yet, and you're already back?"

"I was cooking for the master chef in the workshop today," he answered readily.

An old man patted him on the shoulder: "Alright! You cook a couple of hearty dishes, and I'll call Yushui over—the three of us will have a lively festival today!"

"middle!"

An older woman turned and ran towards the kitchen, while an older man ran off to find He Yushui.

The old lady watched their retreating figures and murmured, "These two...sigh, things are going to be tough for them."

These words were clearly a gentle poke at his heart.

He Yuzhu's throat tightened, but he didn't respond. He wasn't the same silly Yuzhu he used to be, but the hot steamed buns the old man had given him over the years, the bicycle he had repaired, the food coupons he had secretly slipped into his schoolbag... each and every one of these things was both heartwarming and touching.

There were some things he dared not answer, nor could he accept them. Who could predict the future? The old man was only in his forties, in good health; raising a child was perfectly feasible.

I need to ask Liu Lan about this when I go to work tomorrow—are there any families in her hometown who are truly struggling to make ends meet? I'd like to ask her to make a trip there and bring a child back. Raise the child to adulthood, care for the elderly in their old age, and see them off in their final days; but blood ties remain, and hometown sentiments won't fade, so I'll help those who need help and respect those who deserve it, leaving nothing out. After all, what difference does it make who this old man helps?

If this succeeds, it will repay the original owner's debt of gratitude—not just a favor, but also a way out.

Once everyone was present, the old lady nodded to He Yuzhu: "Let's get started, don't let the food get cold."

An older woman picked up a piece of braised pork knuckle and casually remarked, "Silly Zhu, you're twenty-four already, it's time to start thinking about marriage!"

An old man chimed in, "Tomorrow I'll go to the Women's Federation and talk to Director Wang, asking her to keep an eye on things."

He Yuzhu smiled and said, "Let's talk about it after Yushui graduates from high school. There's only a year left, no rush."

He Yushui's eyes instantly reddened, and she lowered her head, clutching the hem of her clothes: "Brother...you're so good to me."

He understood the fear in her eyes—the fear that after her new sister-in-law moved in, her tuition would be cut off and she wouldn't be able to continue her studies.

An old man slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "Don't worry about that! I'll cover all of Yushui's school fees!"

"Really, no need," He Yuzhu waved his hand, "It's only a year, I can handle it."

The old lady raised her chopsticks and said in a low but steady voice, "It's a holiday, so start eating and talk less."

As soon as the words were spoken, smiles returned to the table, and no one brought up that lingering tension again.

After the meal, He Yuzhu pulled He Yushui into the house and stuffed the prepared blue cloth bag into her hand: "I picked out this woolen hat for you. Take it and put it on Grandpa. Tell him it's warm."

As dawn broke and the sky began to lighten, He Yuzhu had already washed up and was heading towards the steel plant. The commotion from yesterday hadn't subsided; today, it was time to get down to business.

Along the road, workers walked in small groups, their faces beaming, movie ticket stubs tucked in their pockets, chatting about a line from the movie "Heroes and Daughters," their laughter echoing all the way to the factory gate.

The canteen stoves were already clanging and clattering, the sound of iron pots being scraped and spatulas being used mixed with the aroma of scallions being fried, filling the air.

Director Zhang, wearing a white apron, walked in and waved to him: "Xiao He, we have foreign guests today, so add two more main dishes for lunch!"

"Alright, Director!"

He turned around and shouted at the top of his lungs, "MCA! Blanch the ingredients for lunch in advance, don't forget when it's time to eat!"

He then turned to Liu Lan and lowered his voice, "I need your help."

Liu Lan put down the rag and nodded: "Master He, please speak."

"My neighbors have no children, and they'd like to ask you to help them in their hometown—to see if there's any family that's really struggling to make ends meet and would be willing to let their child come over. They won't sign any kinship severance papers or change the child's surname; they'll just consider it adding another relative, giving them something to rely on in their old age and a sense of hope for the future."

Liu Lan's eyes lit up: "What a coincidence! I went back to the village a couple of days ago and actually ran into a family—the father was paralyzed on the kang (a heated brick bed), the mother was raising three children, and they couldn't even afford salt. I immediately took out two yuan as a wedding gift, and they accepted it, but they weren't really willing to send their children out."

He Yuzhu breathed a sigh of relief: "Then I'll leave this to you! Go back and sound them out first. I'll prepare twenty catties of fine grain to make sure the child is well-fed; once we've reached an agreement, let me know, and we'll supplement the child's living expenses every month."

……

After seeing Liu Lan off, he took the opportunity to ask Director Zhang for leave on her behalf.

After finishing work at noon, he wiped his sweat and headed straight for an old man's riveting and welding workshop.

"Sir, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

An old man was sweeping the ground when he suddenly saw He Yuzhu hurrying out of the yard with heavy, hurried steps. His heart skipped a beat—could he have some unspeakable secret that he was afraid someone would overhear? But the boy, Shazhu, was honest and never played tricks. After hesitating for a moment, he put down his broom and followed him.

The two of them turned into a shady corner of the warehouse, one after the other. The wind seemed to blow around them, and it was so quiet that they could hear rats gnawing on grain husks in the seams of the burlap sacks.

He Yuzhu didn't beat around the bush and went straight to the point: "Uncle, I'd like to find you an adopted son. Would you... be willing?"

The old man froze, his lips parted slightly, unable to close for a long time. He had fled famine years ago and ended up here, with no relatives or friends. Later, he married a woman who was also an orphan. The two of them were like two drifting leaves, unable to take root in this place. His wife's health deteriorated, rendering her unable to have children. He didn't say it, but a weight constantly weighed on his heart—he feared that in his old age, bedridden, no one would bring him water; he feared that on his deathbed, no one would even bring him a bowl of hot soup. That's why he always volunteered for everything: carrying rice for others, repairing houses for others, brewing medicine for the sick… not for any reward, but because he feared that one day he would collapse and have no one to help him up. Who would have enough grain to give away for free? It would taste good even if kept for winter; who would refuse it?

He had considered adoption, but where was the way to do it? The neighbors were keeping their own children warm enough, and Liu Haizhong, that kid, beat the child every day with a long face, leaving him bruised and swollen, but he never agreed to give him away.

The old man's throat tightened, and his voice trembled: "Really...really? Sha Zhu, don't make fun of your old man!" Before he could finish speaking, his eyes reddened, and tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to fall.

He Yuzhu nodded: "We'll hear from them tomorrow. I've asked an acquaintance to inquire, but we'll have to pay them child support."

"Fei? It's no big deal!" An old man grabbed his wrist, his palms sweaty. "I have a little over two hundred left in my pocket, take it all! I'll make up for it as soon as I get my salary next month! Silly Zhu—" He suddenly choked up and couldn't continue, only gripping He Yuzhu's hand even tighter.

He Yuzhu lowered his voice: "Don't mention this to that old lady yet. Let her be happy after we bring the child back."