Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

In the kitchen, Aunt Zhao Jinhua and Wang Xiulan worked together seamlessly. Zhao Jinhua was in charge of the wok, which was filled with bubbling, rich, dark-colored fried sauce mixed with diced fatty and lean meat. The sizzling sound and rich aroma were coming from there.

Wang Xiulan skillfully kneaded the dough, while on the cutting board lay thinly rolled sheets, ready to be cut into noodles. Zhao Jinhua carefully stirred the sauce with a spatula, muttering to Wang Xiulan, "This meat...it's so fatty! So juicy! The sauce made from it is just different! Incredibly fragrant! Chen'er, that child, is truly talented!"

Wang Xiulan smiled but didn't say anything. She simply rolled out the dough faster, her heart filled with pride for her son and anticipation for this family reunion dinner.

The noodles, once cooked, danced like silver fish in the boiling water. They were then rinsed in cold water to make them even more chewy. Topped with a glistening, fragrant sauce filled with plump meat chunks, and accompanied by blanched shredded cabbage and radish greens, bowls of steaming, aromatic noodles with minced meat sauce were served on the heated kang table and the eight-immortal table.

"Dinner's ready!" With Uncle Wei Changsheng's shout, everyone gathered around.

Grandma, Aunt, Third Aunt, and Xiao Weimin sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), while Grandpa, Uncle, Third Uncle, Wei Chen, Wei Feng, Wei Yan, and Wei Guo sat around the eight-immortal table. The two girls, Wei Ran and Wei Min, sat on small stools nearby. Aunt Zhao Jinhua and Wang Xiulan were the last to sit down. Apart from the eldest daughter of the eldest uncle's family who had married, it was a rare occasion for the whole family to be gathered together.

Looking at the bowls of oily, fragrant, and generously portioned noodles in front of them, especially the large chunks of meat clearly visible in the sauce, everyone couldn't help but swallow.

Grandpa Wei Shoutian's wrinkled face broke into a deeper smile. He shakily groped his way out of the cabinet and pulled out an old bottle with faded red paper on it. Inside was a cloudy homemade sweet potato liquor.

"I'm so happy today! Eldest son, third son, fill your bowls!" The old man, unusually generous, personally poured wine into the rough porcelain bowls in front of his eldest son, Wei Changsheng, and his third son, Wei Laishun. The pungent aroma of the wine immediately filled the warm air.

Wei Feng stared longingly at the bottle, his throat bobbing. Wei Yan and Wei Guo, being younger, simply watched with curiosity. Wei Chen, however, sat calmly and composed.

Grandpa Wei Shoutian's gaze swept over Wei Feng and then landed on Wei Chen, his eyes filled with a sense of satisfaction and recognition that "my son has grown up." He picked up the wine bottle and poured half a bowl into each of the empty bowls in front of Wei Feng and Wei Chen.

"Fengzi is all grown up now, capable of taking on the responsibility of the household. Chen'er works as a factory worker in the city, which is a source of pride for our family. We're happy today, so let's all have a drink! To warm ourselves up!" The old man's voice was loud and clear.

Wei Feng was overjoyed, his face flushed with excitement, and he quickly picked up the bowl with both hands, saying, "Thank you, Grandpa!" This was a rare recognition! Wei Chen also picked up his bowl and respectfully said, "Thank you, Grandpa."

"Come on! Let's eat! Eat it while it's hot!" Wei Shoutian was the first to pick up a mouthful of noodles covered in sauce and put it in his mouth.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room were the slurping of noodles, occasionally punctuated by satisfied sighs and mumbled praises: "Mmm! Delicious! This sauce is fried perfectly!"

"Second sister-in-law, your noodles are so chewy!"

"Meat! Such a big piece of meat!" Little Weimin's mouth was stuffed full.

"Eat slowly, don't choke!" Grandma Zhang Guifen looked at her grandchildren with loving eyes.

"Xiao Ran, this meat is so delicious!" Wei Min whispered to Wei Ran.

"Right! My brother brought it back!" Wei Ran said proudly.

Wei Chen watched the lively and heartwarming scene before him. Grandpa took small sips of wine, his wrinkles smoothing out; Grandma carefully picked out noodles to feed her grandson; Uncle and Third Uncle ate and talked in hushed tones, occasionally clinking their bowls together; Mother Wang Xiulan and Aunt Wang Xiulan spoke softly, their faces bearing gentle smiles.

The cousins ​​wolfed down their food, not even lifting their heads; the younger sister, Wei Ran, and her cousin, Wei Min, huddled together, sharing the diced meat in their bowls…

This warm atmosphere, this simple yet incredibly real sense of satisfaction, this blood-related warmth, like a gentle current, dispelled the last trace of chill he brought from Beijing and temporarily soothed the sense of alienation he felt when facing those calculating people in the courtyard.

He picked up the bowl of spicy sweet potato soup, took a small sip, and felt a burning sensation from his throat to his stomach, yet it felt incredibly comforting.

After the food was devoured, the bowls were empty. Everyone was sweating and completely satisfied, especially the boys, who patted their round bellies with unprecedented contentment. Not a drop of sauce remained in their bowls.

The women began clearing the dishes. Aunt Zhao Jinhua and Third Aunt Li Xiuzhi volunteered to do the work, and Wang Xiulan also helped wipe the table. Wei Ran and Wei Min took the initiative to wash the dishes, the two girls chattering away in the kitchen, the water splashing everywhere.

The men remained in the main room, sitting around the kang table. Grandpa Wei Shoutian took out his pipe and slowly filled it with tobacco. Wei Changsheng and Wei Laishun also took out their pipes. Wei Chen, who didn't smoke, sat quietly. The younger generation, including Wei Feng, Wei Yan, and Wei Guo, sat on the edge of the kang or on stools, listening intently to their elders.

The atmosphere gradually calmed down, carrying a sense of languor after a full meal, as well as a subtle, almost imperceptible heaviness.

Uncle Wei Changsheng, the village head, took a puff of his cigarette, slowly exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, and broke the silence: "Chen'er, are you doing alright in the city... at the factory?"

"It's fine, Uncle." Wei Chen nodded. "The work isn't heavy, my master takes good care of me, and my wages and food coupons are paid on time." He briefly described his work at the steel rolling mill, omitting his "technical genius" and "procurement connections," only emphasizing the stability and decent income.

"That's good, that's good." Wei Changsheng nodded, his face showing relief, but deep in his eyes was a lingering sorrow. He remained silent for a moment, seemingly choosing his words carefully, and tapped his pipe lightly on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), making a dull sound. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier.

"Sigh..." Wei Changsheng sighed deeply, his voice low and filled with a deep weariness and helplessness, "Chen'er, you're in the city, so you may not know... in our village... life is getting harder and harder to bear."

Grandpa Wei Shoutian paused in his cigarette-packing, the veins on the back of his hand, covered in age spots, bulging slightly. Uncle Wei Laishun also took a deep drag of his cigarette, coughing twice, his sallow face showing even more worry. The younger generation, including Wei Feng and Wei Yan, also lost their previous relaxed demeanor, their expressions becoming tense and focused.

"The communal dining hall..." Wei Changsheng uttered these three words as if they weighed a ton. "When it was first set up, there was a lot of fanfare, and they said we'd eat from the same pot and eat our fill... But how long has it been?" He gave a bitter smile, shook his head, and lowered his voice even further, as if afraid of being overheard. "It's almost impossible to continue, Chen'er."

"Now, we only get one thin meal a day at noon, just clear broth and water, enough to see your reflection in. Each person gets a bowl of porridge and a few cornbreads mixed with bran and wild vegetables. It's barely enough to keep us warm until dark. And even that... our food supplies are almost gone. You can find rat droppings in the warehouse." His tone was heavy, and every word felt like a stone hitting someone's heart.

Wei Chen listened quietly. He was certainly aware of this history, but hearing his family's account firsthand and feeling the oppressive atmosphere and despair that instantly filled the room still weighed heavily on his heart.

He noticed that his third uncle, Wei Laishun, subconsciously touched his youngest son, Wei Weimin's, head. Although the child had eaten his fill, his face was still pale and he looked thin. His third aunt, Li Xiuzhi, stopped tidying up in the kitchen, clearly listening as well.

"The higher-ups... still have quotas in place, they won't let us disperse..." Wei Changsheng's voice carried a hint of resentment and helplessness, "But if this continues, people will really starve to death! Everyone knows this, and everyone is afraid. Now... sigh, it's all an unspoken understanding."

He glanced around the room, his voice almost a whisper: "Every household, if they can hide anything, is secretly cooking at home. They've planted whatever they can around their houses—radishes, turnips—they're digging for wild vegetables, peeling tree bark… they're just trying to make ends meet. But in this dead of winter…" He didn't finish, but sighed heavily again, a sigh filled with uncertainty about the future and a sense of responsibility towards the villagers.

"Our Baoyuquan is located by the mountains. We used to have some resources, and the regulations were stricter back then. We tightened our belts and didn't dare to waste food like some other villages. Now... we can barely hold on." Wei Changsheng's tone was tinged with lingering fear and relief.

"You have no idea, some villages in the neighboring county set up canteens back then, and it was really... sigh, the waste was so great, and now it's just as terrible! I heard... they're starting to get edema from hunger..." His voice was hoarse, and he couldn't bear to say the rest.

The room was deathly silent. The only sounds were the hissing of the burning tobacco and the howling wind outside the window. Grandpa Wei Shoutian puffed on his cigarette, his deeply lined face expressionless amidst the swirling smoke, but his slightly hunched back seemed to bear an invisible weight.

Uncle Wei Laishun lowered his head, looking at his rough, cracked hands, lost in thought. Wei Feng, Wei Yan, and the other boys, who were only a few years old, had also lost their youthful radiance, leaving only the instinctive fear of hunger and the uncertainty about the future.

Wei Chen felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart tightly. He looked at the deep wrinkles on his uncle's face, the thin frame of his third uncle's child, and his grandfather's silent yet heavy back. Then, thinking of the ample supplies in his own space, a strong impulse surged into his heart.

But he knew that while a common man is innocent, possessing a treasure is a crime. He couldn't expose himself, much less offer unrestrained aid. How to help these blood relatives to the greatest extent possible within the rules, without inviting disaster, required extremely careful consideration.

"Uncle," Wei Chen spoke, breaking the heavy silence. His voice was calm and had a reassuring quality. "The situation in the city is a little better. I know some people at the factory, and I can occasionally get some things that aren't part of the plan."