Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Although Sha Zhu was still a little unconvinced, seeing Xu Damao's cowardly appearance and hearing Yi Zhonghai affirm the "legitimacy" of his "helping people in need," his anger subsided considerably. He mumbled an "uh-huh" as a way of admitting his mistake.

"Alright!" Yi Zhonghai concluded, his gaze sweeping across the room with an air of authoritative control. "The matter is clear! Xu Damao spread rumors and instigated the incident, bearing primary responsibility! He Yuzhu physically assaulted someone, using inappropriate methods, and bears secondary responsibility! Considering they are both first-time offenders, and to protect the reputation of our compound, we will not report this to the street office or the factory security department! However, you two must write a profound self-criticism! Guarantee that you will never do it again! If a similar incident occurs again, there will be zero tolerance! You will be handed over to the police station immediately!"

Giving both sides equal blame, seemingly fair, was actually a case of raising the issue high and then letting it fall lightly, especially for Sha Zhu. A potentially escalating storm was forcibly suppressed and hastily concluded by Yi Zhonghai's strategy of combining deterrence and punishment, coercion and inducement, and tightly emphasizing collective honor.

Yi Zhonghai picked up his teacup, took a sip of water to moisten his dry throat, and the stern look on his face faded, replaced by his earnest expression: "Comrades, neighbors! Our courtyard is one big family! Harmony in the family brings prosperity in all things! Everyone should be considerate of each other, help each other, and care for each other!"

Especially for neighbors facing real difficulties, we must extend a helping hand and demonstrate the warmth of our socialist family! Only in this way can we truly unite as one, think in the same direction, and work together towards the same goal! Only then can we preserve our hard-won collective honor of being an "Outstanding Courtyard House"!

He paused, his gaze sweeping meaningfully across everyone's faces. He lowered his voice, carrying an unspoken implication: "What just happened, although caused by the low ideological awareness of a few comrades, is not something to be proud of."

I hope everyone can prioritize the overall situation and the collective honor! Let's resolve this internally, behind closed doors. Let's not go around telling others, lest outsiders overhear and exaggerate, causing a bad influence and damaging our institute's image within the neighborhood committee, affecting our year-end performance evaluation! Don't you all agree?

"Yes!" "The old man is right!" "Don't wash your dirty linen in public!" "For the sake of a fine courtyard house, we certainly won't say a word!" Everyone echoed. At this moment, when collective honor was paramount and their own interests were at stake, no one would oppose Yi Zhonghai's proposal.

"Alright! Meeting adjourned!" Yi Zhonghai nodded in satisfaction and waved his hand.

The crowd dispersed like the receding tide. Families began calling to their children, moving stools, and whispering about the earlier commotion, but their voices were very low.

Jia Zhangshi glared fiercely at Qin Huairu, who was still sobbing, and dragged her son Jia Dongxu back into the house while cursing. Sha Zhu glared at Xu Damao and also went home angrily.

Xu Damao covered his face, lowered his head, and like a defeated rooster, slunk back to the backyard amidst the disdainful or gloating gazes of the crowd.

The three old men also packed up their teacups and stools. Liu Haizhong seemed to want to say something concluding, but Yi Zhonghai didn't give him the chance, carrying his teacup straight back to the main room in the central courtyard.

Wei Chen sat on a small stool by the wall, slowly finishing the last sunflower seed in his pocket. He patted the crumbs off his hands, looking at the courtyard that had suddenly become empty and deserted, the dim yellow light casting long, swaying shadows on the ground.

The scenes from just moments ago replayed in his mind like a revolving lantern: Yi Zhonghai's masterful control of the situation, his political maneuvering in subtly transforming personal conflicts into issues of collective interest; his subtle favoritism towards Sha Zhu, and his characterization of it as "helping those in need"; and his final hint that "family scandals should not be aired in public" to uphold collective honor...

"Heh, I see." Wei Chen's lips curled into a knowing yet slightly mocking smile. The root of Yi Zhonghai's later "moral blackmail" of Sha Zhu and his brainwashing of "helping the Jia family" in the TV series was already foreshadowed when Jia Dongxu was still alive.

What Yi Zhonghai needed was never just a henchman to support him in his old age, but a tool he could control and who met his standards of a "moral exemplar." Sha Zhu's impulsiveness and Qin Huairu's "difficulties" provided him with the perfect stage and material.

Attending the first all-staff meeting of this courtyard house, Wei Chen remained an outsider throughout, casually eating sunflower seeds and observing. But this seemingly farcical scene allowed him to clearly see the undercurrents surging beneath the surface of this small courtyard house, and to see the more real and complex underlying nature behind those familiar faces.

He picked up his small stool, dusted off non-existent dust from his backside, turned around, and walked briskly through the moon gate back to his quiet and secluded east courtyard. Behind him, the unique atmosphere of the courtyard, a blend of coal smoke, food, and complex human relationships, was gradually shut out from outside the gate.

The massive steelmaking campaign that swept the nation was like a sudden hurricane, and within a few months, it came to an abrupt end.

The small blast furnaces and rudimentary steelmaking furnaces that once burned day and night, billowing thick smoke and making deafening noise in the streets and alleys of Beijing were quickly and silently dismantled and cleared away, like seashells left on the beach after the tide recedes.

The vacant lot that had been requisitioned as a temporary storage yard has become empty again. The city seems to have shed a heavy, noisy armor, revealing some of its original, weary undertones.

Like springs that have been stretched taut and then suddenly released, all industries, after a brief period of disorder and confusion, are beginning to struggle to regain their original rhythm.

In the steel rolling mill, the almost frantic atmosphere of working overtime to meet targets had faded considerably, and the roar of the machines seemed to have returned to some semblance of regularity. On the streets, the queues in front of the ticket windows seemed even longer, and the expressions on people's faces showed less excitement and more a heavy sense of unease about the future.

The biting winds of deep winter were exceptionally fierce, cutting like knives against the face. The year 1958 was quietly slipping away in this uneasy calm. However, ominous rumors, like undercurrents surging beneath the ice, began to circulate quietly in certain circles.

That afternoon, the office of Purchasing Group 3 was filled with smoke, the pungent smell of cheap tobacco mixed with the warm, slightly rusty aroma emanating from the coal stove.

As the year draws to a close, the factory has suddenly increased the sales targets for the purchasing department, almost doubling the usual amount. The pressure feels like an invisible boulder, weighing heavily on everyone's hearts.

"Damn it, this workload is going to kill me!" Old Zhao took a deep drag on his self-rolled cigarette, thick smoke billowing from his nostrils, his brows furrowed. "Those big shots in the factory just have to say something, and we have to run our legs off! In this situation, where are we supposed to find so much stuff?"

An elderly purchasing agent surnamed Li, standing nearby, carefully poked at the golden-brown cornbread slices on the stove with an enamel mug lid, his voice low and carrying a knowing, almost mystical quality: "Old Zhao, there's no use in rushing. I heard that in the south... several provinces are experiencing a terrible drought this year! They haven't seen a decent drizzle in six months! The fields are cracked open like turtle shells! The grain..."

The office fell silent instantly, save for the faint crackling of the burning coal in the stove. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their gazes to Old Li.

"Really? Old Li, you can't just say things like that!" someone asked, sounding doubtful. "Yeah, if it's true... that would be terrible!" another voice said, clearly worried.

"Hmph, do you think I'd lie to you?" Old Li rolled his eyes, took down the crispy cornbread slices, blew on them, and said, "My brother-in-law, who drives long-distance trucks, just came back from the south. He told me himself! The seedlings in those fields are so withered they could catch fire! In many places, the canteens are almost forced to close down!"

"With grain in hand, there's no need to panic..." Old Hu sighed softly in the corner. These seven words were like a heavy stone thrown into the lake of everyone's heart, stirring up ripples upon ripples.

Most of those present had struggled through years of war and famine, and they had a profound understanding of this simple truth. Steel ingots piled high in warehouses could not ultimately be eaten.

Wei Chen sat by the window, holding a supplies list in his hand. He seemed to be checking it carefully, but in reality, he was clearly hearing every whisper in the office. He appeared calm on the surface, but his heart was like a lake with a stone thrown in, turbulent and turbulent.

It's finally here! The wheels of history are relentlessly rolling along their predetermined course. Old Li's brother-in-law's observations, like a cold needle, pierced the last shred of hope. The signs of the severe drought in the south were already so obvious; how far away could the ensuing "Three Years of Natural Disasters," sweeping across the entire country, be?

The heartbreaking plight of Qin Huairu's family in the original drama flashed through his mind instantly. Rural household registration, like heavy shackles, tightly locked their access to the most basic necessities for survival.

After her husband Jia Xudong's death, Qin Huairu endured great hardship to finally find a job in the city, obtaining urban residency and a meager but crucial worker's ration. Her children, because of her rural background, struggled for a long time to even secure the most basic food rations…

Household registration! These two words rang like an alarm bell in Wei Chen's mind! Now, with the Great Leap Forward just over and various policies still in the recovery and adjustment period, and household registration management not yet becoming rigid due to the impending difficulties, this is the last and best window of opportunity!

Once real difficulties arise, in order to ensure the stability of the city's core, the channels for household registration transfer will inevitably be tightened quickly, making it extremely difficult to bring my mother and sister out of the countryside!

He had to act immediately! There was no time to lose! This thought burned within him like a flame!