Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

At this moment, Chang Zhengchao led three or four young men, carrying seven or eight cardboard boxes and paper bags on their shoulders and in their hands, and stepped across the threshold in a great hurry.

"Uncle, you're here too? I specially saved this TV for you!" Chang Zhengchao saw the village chief and laughed heartily.

"Give me a TV? What's up?" Chang Kailei was taken aback.

"If it weren't for you lending me your tuition money without hesitation back then, how could I have finished university? Let alone gotten a job in a factory to learn a trade. Half of the success I have today is thanks to your kindness."

"Uncle, please accept it! Zhengchao is a bright kid. He just graduated from university not long ago, and now he can even tinker with a TV. He assembled this one himself. The materials weren't expensive, so it didn't cost much."

Grandpa Chang beamed with joy, his eyes crinkling with wrinkles, and as he spoke, he gently patted the silver-gray television set.

Chang Zhengchao stood there, his head buzzing – this thing was clearly a prototype brought back from Kyoto, how did it become something he soldered himself in the blink of an eye?

"Zhengchao, you really know how to make TVs?" Chang Kailei's voice trembled as he grabbed his arm, his knuckles turning white.

"...barely enough to build a frame, and it makes a rustling sound." Chang Zhengchao scratched the back of his head and smiled wryly.

"That's right! Kaijiang wrote a couple of days ago saying that the factory gave out bonuses, and the certificates have all been framed and are hanging on the main wall of the new house in Kyoto!" Grandma Chang slapped her thigh with joy, grabbed her grandson's arm, and straightened her back ramrod straight. "Our great-grandmother has opened her eyes! Our Zhengchao is truly living up to expectations!"

Wow! This is really rare! A phoenix that can make televisions has flown out of this small mountain valley!

They went to the county supply and marketing cooperative to see the iron box: inside the dark glass, there were figures moving about, and it could even sing operas and report the weather. With a click, it would be switched on with electricity, like a magic trick. Who wouldn't be astonished? It must have cost at least a hundred yuan!

See you a long time!

"Second brother, how about we ask Zhengchao to get one for our family too? We'll pay for it!"

"Yes! Let's install one too!"

Everyone crowded around, chattering away, each voice louder than the last. Those things in the county town were too expensive; they couldn't afford them even if they gritted their teeth. But since it was their own kid's handiwork, it should be cheaper and more affordable.

"That won't do! The whole village will be lining up to have him fill their clothes; they'll be wasting their lives!"

"..."

Everyone fell silent and nodded in agreement—indeed, that thing was densely packed with wires and tiny parts the size of beans; just looking at it made you dizzy. Who would dare touch it without some skill?

For decades, Grandpa and Grandma Chang have consistently woken up at five and gone to bed at nine, but this time they tossed and turned all night, staying awake until dawn. The fact that their grandson could build a television made their hearts tremble even more than when they received their university acceptance letter.

As dawn broke, the two elderly people changed into their best blue cloth jackets, carefully wiping the cuffs, and slowly strolled into the village road, deliberately choosing the spot where their old friend was squatting in the sun.

Not bragging? That's called showing off achievements! Others don't believe it? Just take a look at that "thin box" standing in the village chief's main room!

Last night, the elderly couple pulled Zhengchao into the inner room and repeatedly instructed him in a low voice: "This craft is the foundation of our family. It must be passed down to our great-grandchildren. We can't let a single bit of it slip through to outsiders."

Chang Zhengchao was speechless, but could only reply, "Okay, I'll remember."

The two elderly people, their pockets full of roasted peanuts and crispy melon seeds, sat down under the old locust tree at the village entrance and grabbed a handful of each person they met.

Life was booming, and the elders were overjoyed.

"Big sister, I heard you're heading to Kyoto after the New Year? Will you be coming back?"

"Why wouldn't I go back? My roots are here, they've seeped into my very bones!" Grandma Chang patted her knee, paused, and lowered her voice, "If it weren't for Zhengchao being my only grandson, I would rather stay by the stove than move."

Before she finished speaking, her eyes welled up with tears, but she turned her head and raised her chin, smiling openly—her grandson was promising, and no matter how reluctant she was, she had to let go and let him fly.

At this moment, Chang Zhengchao was squatting on the roof of the village chief's house, adjusting the signal device, holding a thin copper wire in his hand, squinting to calibrate the direction.

A group of teenagers crowded around the courtyard wall, standing on tiptoe to peer inside, all eager to see what the "thin as a sheet of paper" television Wang Kaihui had described actually looked like. Having never seen it before, none of them believed it: could this palm-sized black box really be used for horse racing or opera performances?

When the screen suddenly lit up, the static disappeared, and a clear figure jumped out—everyone opened their mouths wide, as if they had been frozen in place.

Chang Kailei stood under the eaves, quietly wiping the corner of his eye. This kid is so grateful! He lent him two hundred yuan for tuition four years ago, and now he's even bringing a TV to his door.

But over in the fields, the air felt heavy and stifling.

Turning my head, I saw that Chang Zhengchao, who was at the bottom back then, was now living a dazzlingly bright life; and what about me? I was still counting wheat seedlings in the field, which were getting shorter and shorter with each planting.

To save a few dollars on textbooks, I tore up my high school acceptance letter and went to the city to do odd jobs. But I couldn't even last three years as a temporary worker. Once I turned thirty, my job application was crossed out. I had no choice but to pack up and go back to the village, carrying a hoe and waiting for the winds to blow.

Back then, they even laughed at Zhengchao, saying, "What's the use of getting such a high score? You might as well come work for me in the factory; you'll get paid at the end of the month!"

His friend advised him, "Don't rush, you'll make it eventually," but who knows when "sooner or later" will be?

Watching Zhengchao being surrounded and adjusting the TV, he suddenly thought: If I knew this, matchmakers would be flocking to my door, and I wouldn't be sitting in the corner smoking in silence.

He silently withdrew from the crowd, crookedly walked to the big willow tree in the east of the village, took out his crumpled cigarette box, and lit one.

"Originally a resident of the back mountain, now a guest in the front hall. Drunkenly dancing with half a scroll of scripture in the pavilion, sitting in a well, I speak of the vastness of the sky..."

He now recited that nonsensical poem that drunkards often uttered with bitterness.

"Tianye, didn't you go to the city to work a long time ago? Why are you squatting here sighing?"

Chang Zhengchao walked over at some point, carrying half a signal cable in his hand.

Tianye recounted everything that had happened over the past few years in a straightforward manner.

"My colleague's family owns an electronics parts factory in Kyoto, and they're hiring skilled workers. I originally found this job for my grandparents—I was worried they'd get restless. Now, if you'd like, why don't you come with me?" Chang Zhengchao pushed the cigarette pack over. "I heard the base salary is 600 yuan, with room and board included."

"Six hundred?!"

News from this small mountain village seems to have been kept tightly under wraps by the mountain winds; a wave of migrant workers has already swept across the outside world—young people are all heading out, and the two brothers can earn enough in a year to build three brick houses.

"How long has it been since you went out? Factories are springing up everywhere now, assembly lines are running non-stop, six hundred isn't high, but it's not low either." Chang Zhengchao grinned. "I really want to go, I'll take you with me this time."

He recalled how, years ago, when he was short of travel money, Tianye insisted on giving him fifty yuan and even accompanied him on a ten-mile walk at night to the station.

I borrowed Yan Xudong's car this time with the whole family in mind. I could squeeze in a field and still drive smoothly with a bit more gas.

……

On the morning of the third day of the Lunar New Year, Chang Zhengchao's family got ready and, amidst the crackling of firecrackers, got into the silver-gray sedan they had borrowed from Yan Xudong's family and drove out of the village.

The night before they left, the grandparents held the village chief's hand and repeatedly entrusted him with the task: "Don't leave the land barren, keep planting corn. We'll have to come back sooner or later to live out our old age here."

On the day he set off, Tianye carried only a faded blue cloth bundle and the last fifty yuan his family had left in his pocket. His parents' deaths had exhausted their savings, and the land had been entrusted to his second uncle. He stood at the village entrance, glanced at the old house, turned around, and boarded the bus—never looking back, never accepting his fate again.

The car sped all the way to the provincial capital's airport, where Yan Xudong's uncle was already waiting at the exit. Chang Zhengchao handed over 600 yuan as a token of gratitude, but the uncle waved his hand, saying, "We're family, no need to be so polite." He then said "Have a safe trip," turned around, got into the driver's seat, and sped away.

……

Han Chunming booked a table at the hotel and waited for Xiao Yao to arrive. During this time, neither of them had time to visit relatives.

Today he finally had some free time to sit down and have a proper talk. It had probably been many years since he and Xiao Yao had a face-to-face, heart-to-heart conversation like this.

In less than ten minutes, Xiao Yao arrived in a flurry. Zhang Jie had informed her beforehand that he was waiting in the next private room and would come immediately if she needed anything.

"Come on, sit down! Xiao Yao, it's been eight years since we've had a proper drink together, hasn't it? Ever since you entered university, you've been buried in books, and we hardly ever see each other."

Han Chunming picked up the wine bottle, tilted his wrist, and the amber-colored wine fell steadily into the glass.

"That's right, eight years have passed in the blink of an eye. Do you remember when we were kids? We'd break an old popsicle in half, take a bite and then another, licking it until our mouths were full of cold air and we couldn't bear to swallow it—those days have long been blown away by the wind."

Xiao Yao poured himself a full glass, the liquid shimmering under the lamplight.

"Cheng Jianjun has been released, but he's still unemployed. His father is asking around for help, but as soon as people hear he has a criminal record, they turn their backs on him."

Han Chunming tilted his head back and took a sip, his tone tinged with a hint of melancholy.

"Are you planning to give him a hand?"

"Pull? Forget it. Not kicking him while he's down is already the greatest act of kindness I can show."

Han Chunming spoke with unwavering resolve and crispness.

"In the end, if it weren't for Su Meng's matter, the three of us wouldn't have ended up like this today."

Xiao Yao swirled his wine glass and took a small sip.

"Su Meng? Why are we dragging her into this again?"

Han Chunming frowned, looking puzzled.

"When Cheng Jianjun returned from his time in the countryside, he immediately took a liking to Su Meng, who had grown into a beautiful young woman. But she only had eyes for you and didn't even glance at him. The more he thought about it, the more resentful he became. He felt that in terms of looks and ability, he was far superior to you, so why did Su Meng choose you? Unable to contain his anger, he started to sabotage you behind your back. I tried to advise you and give you some pointers, but he wouldn't listen. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I simply cut off all contact with him. Do you remember what happened after that? From when you were selling eggs to when you were secretly sabotaged at the toy factory, he was behind it all."

"I have never wronged him in the slightest."

Han Chunming picked up the glass, tilted his head back, and gulped it down. The liquor burned his throat, but he couldn't suppress the pent-up anger in his heart—a brother who grew up with him through thick and thin, stabbing him in the back was more hurtful than a stranger.