Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Soon, Wei Chen saw Yi Zhonghai and his apprentice Jia Dongxu. Yi Zhonghai stood with his hands behind his back, his steps steady, exuding the air of a seasoned master.

Following behind him, Jia Dongxu looked like he hadn't woken up yet. His eyes were puffy, his face was pale, and he was walking unsteadily. As he walked, he opened his mouth wide and let out a long yawn, tears welling up in his eyes.

Wei Chen shook his head inwardly. Jia Dongxu's body was clearly depleted; his energy and spirit were severely lacking. In the original drama, his accident a few years later was certainly due to operational errors, but this long-term physical weakness and overwork were definitely significant contributing factors.

Qin Huairu is raising three children and a mother-in-law all by herself. Jia Dongxu's salary is simply not enough. He must be working overtime like crazy to earn that meager overtime pay. No wonder his health is not good.

Just then, a loud, mocking voice came from the next line:

"Hey! Jia Dongxu! Working overtime again last night? Look at you, yawning all the time, you can barely keep your eyes open! What's wrong? Did your wife drain you dry? Take it easy, bro! Slow and steady wins the race! Haha!"

It was Xu Damao! Holding his lunchbox, he stood in the next line, looking at Jia Dongxu with a mischievous grin. He deliberately raised his voice, attracting the attention of many coworkers around him, who let out suppressed chuckles. This kind of slightly suggestive banter always managed to pique the interest of some people in the monotonous factory life.

Jia Dongxu, already listless, was further enraged by Xu Damao's public humiliation, especially since his wife was involved. His face flushed crimson, and his drowsiness was instantly replaced by anger. He abruptly turned his head, glaring at Xu Damao, his voice sharp with agitation:

"Xu Damao! What the hell are you spouting?! Watch your mouth! You think I won't slap you?!"

"Slap me?" Xu Damao sneered, showing no weakness. His thin face was full of provocation. "You? Jia Dongxu, not to be rude, but looking at you now, you could be blown away by a gust of wind. Who do you think you can beat? Save your breath! Don't strain your back and have your wife serving you again!"

"Fuck your grandpa!" Jia Dongxu was completely enraged. He didn't care about queuing anymore and rolled up his sleeves, ready to rush over.

"Dongxu! What are you doing!" Yi Zhonghai shouted in a deep voice, grabbing Jia Dongxu's arm.

His face was very unpleasant. He first glared at Jia Dongxu, signaling him to calm down, then turned to Xu Damao, his tone carrying the usual "fairness" and the authority of an elder: "Xu Damao! You're an adult! Watch your words! How can you make jokes like this? It's such a bad influence! Dongxu works hard and is a little tired. As his coworker, you not only don't understand, but you also make sarcastic remarks. What kind of behavior is that?"

Yi Zhonghai's words, seemingly blaming both sides equally, were actually clearly biased towards Jia Dongxu. He attributed Jia Dongxu's lethargy to "hard work" and characterized Xu Damao's teasing as "making sarcastic remarks" and "not paying attention to the limits."

Xu Damao, a shrewd man, immediately objected, retorting with a stiff neck, "Hey! Uncle! I don't like what you're saying! How am I being tactless? What's wrong with me joking with Jia Dongxu? Aren't there plenty of jokes like that among the factory workers? Why does it become a bad influence in your eyes? Your favoritism is too obvious! So your apprentice is a treasure, untouchable, while I, Xu Damao, am just a blade of grass, deserving to be scolded?"

Xu Damao was incredibly sharp-tongued when it came to insults, and with just a few words, he exposed Yi Zhonghai's biased intentions. Even more workers gathered around to watch the spectacle, and whispers began to circulate.

Yi Zhonghai's face stiffened at Xu Damao's retort. He was used to using morality and seniority to intimidate people in the courtyard and workshop, and rarely had he been contradicted in public, especially by a "petty person" like Xu Damao. He was about to use even greater authority to reprimand Xu Damao and save face—

"Xu Damao! You son of a bitch! How dare you talk to an old man like that? You're asking for a beating!" A thunderous roar came from inside the food serving window!

Suddenly, Sha Zhu appeared out of nowhere. He hadn't even taken off his apron, and he was still clutching that greasy iron ladle in his hand. His face was full of anger, like an enraged bull. He suddenly leaped out of the window and charged straight at Xu Damao!

Sha Zhu deeply respected Yi Zhonghai, regarding him as a father figure. Seeing Xu Damao dare to publicly contradict Yi Zhonghai, his anger flared up instantly!

"Shazhu! What are you doing!" Xu Damao was terrified. He had a deep fear of Shazhu's fists and instinctively burrowed into the crowd.

"What are you doing? I'm going to do you!" Sha Zhu didn't waste any words. He swung the big iron ladle, which was covered in vegetable soup and oil, and smashed it down on Xu Damao's head! The ladle made a whooshing sound. If it hit him hard, his head would definitely be cracked open!

The cafeteria erupted in chaos!

"Ouch! They've started fighting!" "Get out of the way!" "Silly Zhu! Don't be impulsive!"

Xu Damao scurried away, running wildly around the queue and tables and chairs. Sha Zhu chased after him relentlessly, cursing and waving his spoon with ferocious force, nearly hitting onlookers several times. Lunchboxes were overturned, soup splattered everywhere, and shouts, calls to break up the fight, and commotion filled the air.

Yi Zhonghai was so anxious that he kept stamping his feet: "Zhu Zi! Stop! Stop it! What kind of behavior is this!" He tried to pull him back, but Zhu Zi was so stubborn that he couldn't hold him back at all.

Jia Dongxu stared blankly at the chaos he had caused, momentarily forgetting to react.

Wei Chen, holding his lunchbox, stood a little distance away from Hu Songnian and the others, witnessing the entire farce unfold. He slowly chewed his steamed bun, watching with great interest, and couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow! This live version is much more exciting than any TV drama! Authentic, complete with sound, light, and electricity!"

Yi Zhonghai, this self-proclaimed "moral saint," is a master of biased judgment. Sha Zhu, this "courtyard war god," is equally fiercely protective of his own. Xu Damao's mouth is a prime example of how someone deserves a slap… These three together are practically a never-ending melodramatic soap opera!

It wasn't until several strong workers saw that Sha Zhu was really enraged and feared something bad was about to happen that they rushed forward together, grabbed Sha Zhu, and took the "weapon" from his hands.

Xu Damao seized the opportunity to hide far away. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were stained with oil. Still in shock, he pointed at Shazhu and cursed, "Shazhu! You brute! You just wait!" Then he ran away in a flash.

Sha Zhu, being held up by several men, struggled and roared in the direction Xu Damao had fled, "You son of a bitch! Don't run! Don't run if you dare!"

Yi Zhonghai, his face ashen, stepped forward and scolded Sha Zhu: "Zhu Zi! You were too impulsive! This is a canteen! This is a factory! How could you hit someone? And with a spoon? What kind of behavior is this! Get back to work right now!"

Sha Zhu, with his neck stiff and panting heavily, was clearly still somewhat unconvinced, but due to Yi Zhonghai's authority, he was half-pushed and half-persuaded by his coworkers to return to the kitchen.

The farce ended with Xu Damao fleeing in a sorry state and Sha Zhu being reprimanded. The canteen was abuzz with discussion, and it took a while for order to be restored. Wei Chen also withdrew his gaze from the spectacle, finished the last few bites of his food, and thought to himself: Life in this courtyard house will probably be much less lonely from now on.

As evening fell, braving the biting wind, Wei Chen rode his bicycle back to the courtyard house. From the direction of the Jia family's house in the west wing of the middle courtyard came the sounds of Bang Geng and Xiao Dang arguing and crying over something, along with Qin Huairu's weary scolding. In the front yard, Third Uncle Yan Bugui was carefully carrying his few potted plants, which were susceptible to frost damage, into the house.

"Uncle, busy?" Wei Chen greeted him after parking the car. "Yeah, it's cold, I'm afraid you'll catch a cold." Yan Bugui pushed up his glasses and replied, his gaze lingering on Wei Chen for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't speak.

Wei Chen didn't pay any attention and walked straight through the hanging flower gate back to his quiet east courtyard. Pushing open the main door, a blast of cold air hit him. He quickly closed the door behind him and walked to the brick firewall against the wall.

The furnace opening of the fire wall was under the porch outside. He opened the furnace door, and there were still some dark red embers inside. He added a few pieces of fresh coal, poked it with a fire hook, and soon, orange flames rose again, greedily licking the cold furnace wall, and heat began to slowly transfer into the house through the flue inside the fire wall.

The cold room would take time to warm up. Wei Chen rubbed his hands together and took out a pot of fragrant beef soup from the hunter's cabin's storage room. The soup had been kept at a constant temperature in the space, and it was still slightly steaming when he took it out. He poured the soup into a small pot and placed it on the newly lit stove to heat it.

While the soup was still hot, he took out some noodles. Soon, a steaming bowl of beef noodles, with a bright red broth and several large chunks of tender beef on top, was ready. The rich aroma of meat and sauce instantly dispelled the chill in the room.

Wei Chen sat at the octagonal table, eating noodles heartily under the dim light. The chewy noodles, the tender and flavorful beef, and the fragrant, piping hot broth brought immense satisfaction on this cold winter night. After finishing the noodles, he even drank the broth clean, feeling warm all over.

After clearing away the dishes, Wei Chen didn't rest immediately. He picked up a flashlight and pushed open the inconspicuous little wooden door in the eastern corner of the main room. A cool breeze, mixed with the smells of earth, vegetables, and a faint musty odor, rushed out. Behind the door was a narrow, steep flight of stairs leading to a hidden cellar.

He carefully descended the steps. The cellar wasn't large, only seven or eight square meters, just high enough to stand upright. The walls were made of blue bricks, the floor was rammed earth, and traces of sand stored from the previous year remained in the corners. At this moment, the cellar was filled with things.

A row of winter-storage cabbages, uniformly distributed by the street, were stacked against the wall, their outer leaves withered and yellow, resembling green fortresses. Next to them were several large baskets of radishes grown in Wei Chen's own yard, red-skinned and white-fleshed, plump and fresh. There was also a small pile of potatoes and several strings of dried chili peppers and garlic cloves. These were all planned, sun-exposed reserves.

On the other side of the cellar were three brand-new, waist-high rough pottery jars, covered with thick wooden lids. These were specially prepared by Wei Chen to store grain.