Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

"Smells good, doesn't it? This is made from malt, much better than the candy you buy in Guandong." Wang Xiulan smiled, picking up a small strand of syrup with the tip of her chopsticks. With a nimble twist of her wrist, she quickly created several crooked, barely recognizable sugar melons shaped like gourds and small animals on the rough porcelain plate beside her. The syrup solidified rapidly upon cooling, turning golden and translucent.

"It will be crispy when it's completely cooled; it's sticky now." As she worked, she respectfully placed a small dish of neatly diced white radish in front of the simple image of the Kitchen God pasted on the stove. It was a rough yellow paper with a blurry image of the deity printed on it, which Wang Xiulan had brought from her hometown.

Although feudal superstition is not allowed now, as long as it is not done openly, generally no one will care. Moreover, for safety reasons, Wang Xiulan only takes out the image of the Kitchen God when she arrives at the door, and she will put it away after making the offerings.

The mother murmured softly, "Kitchen God and Kitchen Goddess, today is the Little New Year. Please sweeten your words, speak good words in Heaven, and protect us on Earth. Bless our family with a prosperous year ahead, with plenty to eat and wear, and may all adults and children be safe and sound..."

This is an ancient ritual rooted in northern farming families, a simple prayer for basic sustenance. Wei Chen watched quietly, his mother's focused expression carrying an almost pious solemnity. The syrup in the pot bubbled and simmered, its sweet aroma filling the small kitchen with a warm and cozy atmosphere.

From the front yard, the faint sound of the three aunties calling Yan Jiecheng to buy sesame candy drifted over, while in the middle courtyard, the aroma of candy from the Jia family's house seemed to waft out, mixed with the booming voice of Jia Zhangshi scolding Bang Geng for stealing some. The atmosphere of the Little New Year thus quietly permeated every corner of the courtyard.

After worshipping the Kitchen God, Wang Xiulan divided the candied melons among Wei Chen and Wei Ran, giving one to each of them. She carefully broke off a small piece for herself and put it in her mouth. The rough sweetness melted on her tongue, carrying the rich flavor of grains. Although it wasn't as refined as the saccharin sold at the supply and marketing cooperative, it had a unique and comforting taste.

"Mom, the factory gave me some New Year's gifts as a reward today," Wei Chen said, taking out two oil paper packages from the cloth bag he brought back. "One package contains sesame and peanut candy made by the canteen, and the other package contains frozen pears. Just put them outside on the windowsill to freeze."

"Oh my, there's also candy and pears?" Wang Xiulan was both surprised and delighted. She took them and carefully put them away. "The factory's benefits are really good! I'll keep the sesame and peanut candy for guests, and the frozen pears will be good for the New Year to cool down!" The hope for life became concrete and small in the accumulation of these packages.

"On the 24th, sweep the house." This ancient proverb is most faithfully practiced in the courtyard houses.

As soon as it was light, Wang Xiulan got up. She had a faded old towel wrapped tightly around her head, a dark blue coarse cloth apron tied around her waist, and a brand-new long-handled broom made of plump golden sorghum ears in her hand—this was called a "new broom," specially prepared for sweeping the house, to symbolize "getting rid of the old and welcoming the new."

"Xiao Chen, Ran Ran, get up! It's time to clean the house today!" Wang Xiulan's voice was full of festive enthusiasm.

Wei Chen and Wei Ran responded and came out. Although they had just moved into their new home, and the house and yard were still relatively clean, Wang Xiulan insisted on performing the "cleaning and welcoming" ritual properly. "A new home needs to be cleaned even more, sweeping away the dust of the journey and bringing in a fresh atmosphere!" she said.

"Xiao Chen, come here, lend a hand and move this table." Wang Xiulan directed. Wei Chen immediately stepped forward and moved the eight-immortal table from the main room to the center of the courtyard. Wang Xiulan then brought over a sturdy square stool and stood steadily on it. She looked up, wielding a brand-new sorghum broom, and began sweeping the roof beams and high walls.

"Swish...swish..." The sound of the broom scraping against the beams and rafters was particularly clear in the quiet morning. Although not much dust had settled, only some newly drifted dust and tiny cobwebs, Wang Xiulan swept with utmost care.

She stretched out her arm, the broom tip carefully brushing over every gap in the beams and purlins, every nook and cranny of the walls, even the tiny groove on the top of the window frame.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting beams of light that spun with a few specks of dust. She murmured to herself, "Sweep away bad luck, sweep away misfortune, sweep everything clean, and good fortune and wealth will enter!"

Wei Ran also took on the task, carrying a slightly damp rag, and followed behind her mother, carefully wiping the legs of the tables and chairs and the lower walls. Wei Chen was responsible for wiping the areas his mother had swept again with a clean, damp rag.

After sweeping the main room and bedroom, Wang Xiulan turned her attention to the kitchen and the small courtyard. The stove and cupboards in the kitchen were polished to a shine, and the pot lids were all lifted and rinsed. In the courtyard, she tidied up the clutter in the corners, swept the blue brick floor until it was spotless, and didn't even miss the few withered leaves at the base of the wall.

"Mom, we just moved here, how come there's so much dust?" Wei Ran asked, her face flushed from wiping.

"Silly girl," Wang Xiulan straightened up, wiped the fine sweat from her forehead, and smiled, "Sweeping the house is about sweeping away your spirits! Sweep away all the unhappiness and setbacks that have accumulated in your heart this year, just like this dust! We'll welcome the New Year cleanly and brightly, and that's what gives us hope!"

As soon as she finished speaking, Aunt Li's loud voice rang out from the middle courtyard: "Dali! Xiaocao! Stop hiding! Hurry up and get the feather duster and clean up all the dust in the house! The window paper is old, hurry up and replace it with new ones!" Then came Niu Dali's honest reply and the sound of Niu Xiaocao running around.

The commotion was even greater at Uncle Liu Haizhong's house in the backyard. Liu Haizhong stood with his hands behind his back at the doorway, issuing orders in a high-sounding official tone: "Guangtian! Guangfu! Hurry up! Look at your house, it's like a pigsty! And you—"

He pointed at the second aunt and said, "Clean all the windows bright! It's the New Year, we need a fresh start!" The brothers Liu Guangtian and Liu Guangfu, with bitter faces, climbed up and down the windows with rags.

The house of Uncle Yan Bugui in the front yard was much quieter, with only the sound of his aunt's rambling and sweeping being heard, interspersed with the childish question from Yan Jiedi, "Mom, which side of the window decoration looks better?"

The most lively place was the Jia family in the middle courtyard. Jia Zhangshi's loud voice was extremely penetrating: "Dongxu! Stop dawdling! Bring out the altar and clean it! Banggeng's mother, hurry up and scrape off that old grease! And you, Banggeng! Stop messing around and go play somewhere else!" This was accompanied by Banggeng's dissatisfied grumbling and Jia Dongxu's wife's quiet echo.

The entire courtyard seemed to be awakened early in the morning by this collective "house cleaning" activity, filled with busy vitality and a sense of solemnity in welcoming the new year.

After working for most of the day, Wang Xiulan looked at the bright and clean house and courtyard and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

She carried several more quilts into the yard, draped them over a makeshift thick hemp rope, picked up a paddle made of thin rattan, and began to beat them vigorously with a "bang, bang, bang." The dull yet rhythmic beating echoed in the warm winter sun, and the fluffy cotton wadding released a unique, warm, and dry fragrance, characteristic of sun-dried cotton, filling the small courtyard.

Wei Chen asked Wei Ran to help his mother carry the fluffed-up quilt back into the room. Seeing the blush of accomplishment on his mother's face and smelling the sunshine filling the room, he felt that this new home, after this thorough "baptism," truly had the confidence and warmth to welcome the New Year. He went to work, about to begin a day of slacking off.

The festive spirit of the New Year gradually settles down and becomes real and tangible amidst the waving brooms and the thumping sounds of clapping.

On the 25th day of the twelfth lunar month, the purchasing department of the steel rolling mill was filled with a peculiar atmosphere of languor and envy. The three offices, which were usually as noisy as a battlefield at this time of year, now resembled a safe haven.

Team leader Liu Yuan held a large enamel mug with many chips on it, filled with thick, dark tea leaves. He was slowly blowing away the foam, while his other hand flipped through a curled-edge copy of the People's Daily, occasionally taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh.

Zhao Dashan, a seasoned veteran, occupied the spot closest to the stove, squinting as he held a palm-sized transistor radio in his hand. Amidst the crackling of the electrical current, one could barely make out a clip from "Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy." His rough fingers were also tapping out drumbeats on his greasy, twisted knees.

The younger Liu Guoqing and Wu Xiaojun huddled by the window, whispering as they compared which of the newly issued work gloves from the factory were thicker and more durable.

The source of all this contrast—Wei Chen—was sitting at his desk, quietly flipping through a copy of "How the Steel Was Tempered," borrowed from the factory library. The pages were yellowed and the edges were curled, but he was engrossed in reading. The winter sun shone through the dusty glass window, casting a soft glow on his serene profile, a stark contrast to the howling wind outside.

"Hey, Lao Liu! Are you guys in Group 3 celebrating Lunar New Year's Eve early this year?" Lao Zhang, who is in charge of purchasing industrial raw materials in Group 1, strolled in with a teacup in hand. Looking at this "peaceful and quiet" scene, his tone was sour, and his eyes were filled with undisguised envy and jealousy.

"Our team is running around chasing targets, and we're practically wearing out our shoes! It's even more chaotic on the other side; they almost got into a fight with the railway dispatcher over a whole trainload of planned cabbages and radishes! Well, here you guys are like a paradise!"

Liu Yuan lifted his eyelids from the top of the newspaper, chuckled, and the wrinkles on his face smoothed out, revealing a triumphant smugness: "Old Zhang, you can't be envious of this! Thanks to Wei Chen! Our group has almost finished off the toughest tasks before the New Year! As for the remaining odd jobs, no rush, we'll take it slow." He spoke loudly and deliberately gestured towards Wei Chen with his lip.

"Tsk tsk," Old Zhang clicked his tongue, his gaze sweeping over Wei Chen, who was quietly reading, with a complicated expression. "Really good! This kid has some strange skills! You guys have finally turned things around this year, watching us work ourselves to the bone." In previous years, Group Three looked up to Groups One and Two for their "lucrative jobs," but this year the positions have been completely reversed, and Old Zhang felt a mix of emotions.