Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

The two walked towards the alley entrance with smiles. When they were almost at their doorstep, Xiao Yao glanced around and saw an old man who collected scraps curled up against the wall taking medicine, his brows furrowed and his lips turning blue.

He looked closely—wasn't that the ragpicker Hou? Searching for scrap metal all over the street in this freezing weather?

This old man had a tough life, and raising a daughter was even more of a nightmare. He doted on her from a young age, cherishing her like a precious gem.

But Hou Su'e insisted on going against him: she blamed her father for not caring when she got into trouble, and went to the Women's Federation to accuse him of "arranged marriage" when she wanted a divorce. Han Chunming even foolishly went to try to reconcile them. Only Han Chunming had the protagonist's halo and dared to wade into this mess. Anyone else would have been scolded so badly that they couldn't lift their head.

The most ruthless line was: "You old hag, I'll marry your enemy! Just to spite you!"

But when her own husband fell ill and they couldn't even afford to eat, she knelt down and begged her father, "Dad, please help me!"

Her father shook his head, and she immediately grabbed a broom and yelled, "If you don't agree today, I'll rip your roof off!"

—This isn't a daughter, it's a death warrant!

Who can withstand that?

Don't advise others to be warm if you haven't experienced their cold.

Thinking of this, Xiao Yao chuckled and quickened his pace, taking Su Man's hand: "Let Han Chunming worry about this. I don't have the ability to persuade this father and daughter."

"What are you laughing at? They're so pitiful!" Su Man said, feigning anger.

"I remembered a joke, and it cracked me up." Xiao Yao blinked.

"What joke? Tell me about it!"

"In a mountain valley, there lived a little girl who sold lotus-leaf eggs with her grandmother to make a living. After her grandmother passed away, she was left to tend the stall alone. One snowy night, no one bought eggs, and the wind was so fierce it hurt to the bone. She lit a lotus-leaf egg to warm herself—the moment the flame rose, the whole village saw her grandmother waving to her from the sky."

After he finished speaking, he burst into laughter, bending over backwards.

"That's inappropriate!" Su Man said with a look of disgust, but the corners of her mouth had already turned up. "Egg omelet for food? How could you even think of that!"

Seeing Xiao Yao laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight, she couldn't hold back either and burst into laughter.

After laughing enough, the two walked side by side into Xiao Yao's house. He pretended to open a wardrobe drawer, but actually took out two brand-new review books from his storage space and stuffed them into Su Man's hands, then walked her all the way to the bus stop.

"See you tomorrow!" Su Man jumped into the car and waved vigorously at him.

"See you tomorrow." Xiao Yao waved, her fingertips still covered in scraps of fabric.

In the afternoon, Su Meng strolled back to the courtyard in the afterglow of the setting sun. She leaned against the jujube tree and flipped through a book, her cheeks flushed like peaches, and even her eyelashes trembled gently as if touched by a spring breeze.

Cheng Jianjun spotted her from afar, and with a quick turn of his foot, he approached her, grinning, "The shadows of the trees sway, a beauty sits alone—tsk, this scene could be a magazine cover!" He gestured with an air of importance, forming a frame with his thumb and forefinger.

Little did he know that at that moment, Su Meng's heart was already completely filled with Han Chunming, and she could almost hear the gentle sound of oars paddling through the water as the wind passed by her ears.

"The tree is real, but 'lonely and desolate'? That's pure fabrication." Su Meng didn't even lift her eyelids, turning the pages of her book crisply and cleanly, like closing a door.

Cheng Jianjun suddenly invited her to see a movie, but Su Meng only kept her head down and bit her nails, her words filled with "Chunming said" and "Chunming today...", which made him so angry that his Adam's apple bobbed up and down three times, and his face turned from green to white.

"You're like that convoluted character in the book now—no, you're more like Ma Liben, but not quite... Anyway, Chunming, you're a spitting image of Xiao Changchun." She murmured to herself, holding the book, her lips curving into a wide smile.

"Xiao Changchun? Him? A guy who tightens screws in a workshop, covered in machine oil and sweat, does he deserve that title?" Cheng Jianjun's voice suddenly rose, as if it had been sanded.

"Jianjun, is that appropriate?" Xiao Yao suddenly spoke, his voice as deep as if a brick had been pressed down on it. He had clearly said before: backstabbing is unacceptable, especially to a brother you grew up with—it seems Cheng Jianjun really won't listen to advice.

Su Meng silently sat back down in the bamboo chair, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the edges of the book pages; Cheng Jianjun, however, fixed his gaze on Xiao Yao's face, froze for two seconds, then suddenly turned away, saying, "I... never mind! I'm too lazy to argue with you!"

Xiao Yao watched his retreating figure and let out a soft sigh—that kid Han Chunming is impervious to reason, can't be coaxed, and can't be taught.

And Su Meng? She was lost in the hazy bliss of first love, her ears and eyes filled with the whispers of the wind, unable to hear a word of advice from others.

The next day, as soon as she arrived at work, Su Man sat down opposite Xiao Yao with a high school textbook in hand, lecturing with great enthusiasm, her spittle flying everywhere; Xiao Yao, however, had already been dragged into a dream by the sleepiness, her head nodding little by little like a chick pecking at rice.

Li Mei and Ji Lan finished their work quickly and efficiently. Cherishing the sweetness of a candy each day, they consciously retreated to the window to eat melon seeds, making sure not to disturb this "master's lecture hall".

As she was about to leave work, Su Man turned her head and saw Xiao Yao slumped in his chair, a slight smile on his lips, practically snoring away. Without a word, she pinched the soft flesh on the inside of his arm—

"Ouch, Grandma! It hurts so much!" Xiao Yao sat up abruptly, her eyes still glistening with tears.

"How much have you memorized? Now recite it!" Su Man reached out and pointed at the questions, picking five or six in a row, and they all answered them correctly. She then snorted and put her hand away.

"Okay, you've made some progress." She neatly closed the book, tossed her clothes, and headed straight for the cafeteria.

After dinner, Xiao Yao strolled home when he suddenly saw Han Chunming take a paper package out of his canvas bag and quietly slip it to Su Meng. He pretended not to see it, lowered his eyelids, quickened his pace, and plunged into the alleyway.

Good heavens, they even dare to steal bread from the factory?

Su Meng suddenly pushed her bicycle and ran off, the wheels crunching over the blue bricks, making a crisp jingling sound all the way; Han Chunming stood still, smiling broadly, and even winked at Xiao Yao.

"Hey, you've got some nerve, huh? You dare to steal things from the factory? If you don't want to work here anymore, just say so. Don't waste public grain!" Xiao Yao glanced at him sideways, with no one around, his tone full of teasing.

"Brother! You've wronged me! I love this job, I really love it!" Han Chunming quickly smiled apologetically, and casually stuffed the remaining half of the bread into his hand, "Here, this is your share!"

"Alright, alright, I won't touch this stuff." Xiao Yao pushed the bread away, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him into the alley. "You'd better know your limits."

Thanks to Cheng's father's tireless efforts, Su Meng and Cheng Jianjun's work was finally put in place. The Su family arranged a meal for the Cheng family, but Cheng Jianjun flatly refused. His mother, completely unaware of the situation, assumed the Su family was being dismissive and muttered to herself, "A simple 'thank you' and they're done? So insincere!"

"Chunming, are you going to accept this?" Cheng Jianjun shook the bulging paper package in his hand.

Xiao Yao recognized it at a glance—an incense burner, made of old bronze, heavy and hot to the touch, a fine item.

"Name your price." Han Chunming rubbed his hands together casually.

"Thirty. Just considering the copper alone, it's worth that much." Cheng Jianjun puffed out his chest.

"Fifty, it's mine." Xiao Yao suddenly interjected, five bills already clutched in his palm.

Cheng Jianjun stared at the money for two seconds, grabbed the banknotes, handed over the incense burner, and turned and ran away, as if afraid that Xiao Yao would change her mind.

"Here you go." Xiao Yao tossed the incense burner into Han Chunming's arms. "Fifteen yuan, plus the five yuan you owe me. Get me a nearly new bicycle within three days. You're a clever one."

Han Chunming clutched the money, hugged the incense burner and grinned from ear to ear—he had been craving this treasure for so long, and Cheng Jianjun stubbornly refused to let go of it.

Today, it's finally his.

……

"Don't worry! I trust you, and you trust me. Leave this to me!" Han Chunming hooked his arm around Xiao Yao's shoulder, grinning so hard his teeth were showing.

"Then I'll wait for your new car." Xiao Yao wanted to remind him to be wary of Cheng Jianjun, but he swallowed the words back—some things, if said, would only create more rift.

He waved his hand, turned, and left. Han Chunming, carrying the incense burner, dashed off to the repair shop. He needed a car too!

Just as he arrived at the shop, he bumped into Cheng Jianjun squatting by the roadside picking out a bicycle, clutching forty-five yuan in his hand, and happily paying for it. As soon as he saw Han Chunming coming over, he immediately straightened his back and deliberately patted the brand-new, shiny handlebars: "Chunming, you stay here and watch for a bit, I'll take you for a spin and show you!" Before he finished speaking, he pedaled away.

"Master, how much for this car?" Han Chunming kicked a rusty old Phoenix car next to him.

"Twenty." The mechanic didn't even look up, and tightened the wrench with a click.

"Can you make it cheaper?"

"Not a penny less—just assembling the parts cost sixteen dollars. If you have a beat-up car ready, I'll take it for twenty!" The foreman smiled, his words laced with cunning.

"Make sure you remember this!" Han Chunming's eyes lit up, and he took off running.

When I got home, I bumped into my second sister and immediately asked, "Second sister, does your workplace have any old, scrapped bikes? Five yuan, I'll take them apart, replace the parts, fix them up, and ride them myself!"

"A scrapped car? You think you can fix it?" Han Chunyan asked skeptically.

"Go ask Lao Wu! I just saw Cheng Jianjun trade in a car. What about Chunming? He's measuring the factory area on foot every day!" Han's mother quickly tried to smooth things over for her son.

"Okay! We happen to have a few in our factory, I'll bring them back for you." Han Chunyan nodded in agreement.

Han Chunming then rushed over to Han Chunxue again, and after much pleading and haggling, he managed to get a few scrap metal bikes. Back home, he grabbed a wrench, removed the wheels, replaced the flywheels, and adjusted the brakes. These old bikes, which cost five yuan each, were quickly tidied up and sold for twenty yuan.

Xiao Yao wasn't idle either. He secretly brought several bicycles that were about to be scrapped from the garment factory and piled them all in Han Chunming's courtyard.

For a full thirty days, Han Chunming spent his time rummaging through scrap heaps, bicycle repair stalls, and secondhand markets, managing to salvage two bicycles with just a dozen yuan in capital—one gleaming like new, and the other nearly new, with even the chain glistening with oil.

As Xiao Yao turned into the alley, Han Chunming was already leaning against the blue brick wall, one hand on the brand-new "28" motorcycle, a red ribbon tied to the handlebars, swaying gently in the wind.

"Take a look, does it suit your taste? This past month of hard work hasn't been in vain, I've worn three layers of skin off the soles of my feet." Han Chunming laughed and put his arm around Xiao Yao's neck, his voice brimming with smugness.

"Chunming! You're really something!" Xiao Yao's eyes lit up, and he reached out to push the cart. "Dragons lurk in the abyss, tigers lie in the grass—you've been hiding your true strength!" Before he finished speaking, the handlebars were firmly in his hand, and the wheels rolled lightly over the bluestone slabs.