Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Jin Aimin looked at Wei Chen, then at the slick, shiny yellow dog with a "I just want to lie down" expression, and finally sighed helplessly. He then slapped Wei Chen hard: "You little brat! Okay! Remember that! When you need Big Yellow in the future, don't let me down! This dog... sigh, it's really a good dog!" His tone was full of regret and reluctance, as if he were watching a priceless treasure slip through his fingers.

Night once again enveloped Beijing. The suffering in the shelters continued, but the cold, evil undercurrent that had permeated this land had been severed. Wei Chen, with his well-fed and content Da Huang, walked back to the factory area. Moonlight shone on the two, casting long shadows.

Wei Chen looked down at the briskly walking Big Yellow, a smile in his eyes, and said in a low voice, "Well done, Big Yellow. Plenty of jerky." Big Yellow seemed to understand, raised its head, and barked lightly at him, its golden pupils shining brightly in the moonlight, as if they had fallen into the stars.

Jin Aimin stood at the entrance of the shelter, watching their departing figures, then looked at the list of rescued children that he had just compiled in his hand. Finally, he couldn't help but sigh to a team member next to him, "Tsk, this dog... it's a damn amazing dog! Wei Chen, that kid, really got lucky!" His tone was still full of envy and resentment.

In the early afternoon of June, the sun was so scorching it could melt the asphalt. There wasn't a breath of wind, and the air was as thick as burnt syrup, pressing heavily on one's chest.

In the meeting room of the Nanluoguxiang Subdistrict Office, the windows were wide open, but not a trace of coolness could be let in. Only the cicadas chirping loudly in the old locust tree outside the window added to the restlessness in people's hearts.

The small meeting room was packed with people and filled with smoke. The stewards of each courtyard and representatives of the activists sat around several long tables pushed together, all sweating profusely and with a solemn expression on their faces, as if a storm was brewing.

Director Wang, the street-level cadre who chaired the meeting, was a serious-looking woman in her forties with fine beads of sweat on her forehead. She held a thin document in her hand, her fingertips turning slightly white from the pressure.

"...Comrades, this is the situation." Director Wang's voice, hoarse from trying to suppress it, struck everyone's hearts like a hammer blow. "Henan, Hebei, western Shandong, southern Shanxi... widespread and prolonged drought, something that hasn't been seen in decades! The cracks in the ground are so deep you could stuff a fist in them! Summer grain... is basically a total loss. Autumn grain? Nobody dares to guarantee anything now!"

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the faces—some shocked, some worried, some numb—and took a deep breath, as if drawing upon her last bit of strength to announce the inescapable decision: "Millions of people in the city need to eat, and the disaster-stricken people pouring in from all directions need to be resettled and survive! The higher-ups have given a firm order: tighten your belts and get through this together! We, the capital, must take the lead in responding!"

The conference room was deathly silent, with only the ceiling fan creaking weakly overhead, stirring the stuffy air but offering no relief from the heat. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the document in Director Wang's hand, as if it were a death sentence.

"Following a decision made by higher authorities," Director Wang's voice suddenly rose, carrying an undeniable resolve, "effective immediately, the grain ration for all urban residents in this city... will be reduced by two jin per person per month!"

"boom--!"

Despite having a premonition, the meeting room still erupted in chaos when Director Wang actually spat out those two cold pounds!

"Two jin?! My God!" "This...this is unbearable!" "There are five of us in my family, that's ten jin of grain! Ten jin!" "Director Wang! This...this ration is already tight, if we reduce it by two more jin, how will the heavy laborers work? How will the children grow?" "Exactly! With this reduction in rations, how will we survive!"

Exclamations, doubts, lamentations, and even tearful questions instantly filled the small conference room. Some people pounded the table in excitement, some held their heads and sighed, and others were pale-faced, their lips trembling as they couldn't speak. The anxiety and panic in the air almost solidified into a tangible reality.

The three elderly men in charge of the courtyard house, which belonged to the family compound of the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, were extremely uneasy at this moment.

An elderly man named Yi Zhonghai sat in the front seat, his back ramrod straight, his hands pressed tightly against his knees, his knuckles white from the force.

His usually composed and authoritative face was now tense, his brows furrowed into a deep frown. As the head of the courtyard house, he knew all too well the uproar this news would cause if he brought it back.

Two jin per person? Those men in the courtyard who did heavy manual labor in the steel mill, those families where the boys were living off their fathers... He could hardly imagine that scene.

But he was the head of the household, the most authoritative person in the courtyard, and he had to remain calm at this moment! He forced himself to maintain a calm demeanor, but his slightly trembling jaw and the unconcealable worry deep in his eyes betrayed the turmoil in his heart.

He quickly considered: How should he announce this when he got back? How should he appease them? How... to suppress this inevitable surge of anger? His gaze unconsciously swept over his two partners beside him, his heart feeling even heavier.

Second Uncle Liu Haizhong sat next to Yi Zhonghai, his signature potbelly seemingly sagging slightly. Normally, he loved to put on airs and eagerly speak in such situations to display his "leadership" status, but now he looked like a punctured balloon, deflated.

His chubby face was greasy and sweaty, and his eyes darted around nervously, not daring to look at Director Wang or the indignant representatives around him. He held a notebook and a pen in his hand, the notebook blank except for a few crooked words like "food" and "difficulties" at the beginning.

A reduction of two jin? His mind was buzzing. He had a large family, and he was someone who valued good food and drink. The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became, and the paler his face grew. He felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He couldn't even care less about his usual "leadership demeanor," only feeling utter fear and confusion. He instinctively wanted to shrink back, as if that would distance him from this terrible news.

The worst off was Uncle Yan Bugui, who sat in the back row. His thin body was almost curled up in the chair, and his old glasses, which were tied with tape around the bridge of his nose, had slipped down to the tip of his nose, but he didn't bother to fix them.

His face, usually so calculating and constantly busy with abacus beads, was now completely drained of color, ashen and covered in dust. His lips moved silently, and his fingers nervously traced patterns on his knees, as if an invisible abacus existed in the air.

"Two jin...two jin..." Yan Bugui's mind was racing with calculations, but what he was calculating was the abyss of despair. "Six people in my family! My wife, me, Jiecheng, Jiefang, Jiekuang, and Jiedi! Six people! Six people! That's twelve jin a month! A whole twelve jin of grain gone!" This number was like a dull knife, repeatedly cutting into his most sensitive and vulnerable nerve.

He seemed to see the nearly empty rice jar at home, the children's pale faces from hunger, and his wife's sorrowful tears... He had been frugal for half his life, trying to stretch every penny in half, but in the face of this absolute power, all his calculations became a joke!

A tremendous panic and despair gripped him, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. He felt dizzy and his vision blurred. Only one thought swirled wildly in his mind: It's over! I can't live like this anymore!

Director Wang, seeing the uproar below, coughed heavily a few times and slammed her hand on the table twice to barely quell the commotion. Her face was ashen, and her voice carried an undeniable authority mixed with a hint of barely perceptible fatigue: "What's all this noise?! What's all this fuss about?! This is national policy! It's an official document from higher authorities! It's in black and white, stamped with the official seal! This isn't a discussion! It must be implemented! What time is it now? It's a natural disaster! It's a national crisis! Don't you understand what 'overcoming difficulties together' means?!"

Her sharp gaze swept over the crowd, especially those who were most agitated: "The difficulties are temporary! The country is doing everything it can to allocate food supplies! But distant water can't quench immediate thirst! We city dwellers, if we tighten our belts and save a single bite, can give our compatriots in the disaster area a better chance of survival! This is awareness! This is responsibility! Anyone who can't understand this, who gets emotional, or who even tries to resist the policy, is undermining unity! They are causing trouble for the country! They should consider the consequences!"

With these heavy accusations leveled, the noise in the conference room was finally forcibly suppressed, but the heavy, oppressive, and despairing atmosphere only intensified. Everyone sat slumped, as if their spines had been removed, only heavy breathing and the occasional suppressed sob remained.

Director Wang softened his tone, but remained serious: "The managers and representatives of each courtyard, once you return, you must convey the spirit of the policy to every resident clearly and completely! You must do a good job of explaining and calming their emotions! Pay special attention to families in need, and neighbors should promote a spirit of mutual assistance! Our street office will also do its best to coordinate some alternatives, such as increasing the supply of food substitutes… Meeting adjourned!"

The words "Meeting adjourned" were like a pardon, yet also like a death warrant. Everyone rose in silence, the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor particularly jarring. No one spoke; each person walked out with heavy steps, as if carrying a thousand-pound burden on their shoulders.

Yi Zhonghai stood up, feeling as if his legs were made of lead. He glanced at Liu Haizhong, who was pale and absent-minded beside him, and then at Yan Bugui, who was hunched over and looked as if he had aged ten years in an instant. He sighed silently. "Old Liu, Old Yan, let's go." His voice was dry and hoarse.

Liu Haizhong seemed to wake from a dream, hurriedly grabbed his blank notebook, stuffed it haphazardly into his pocket, and stiffly followed them out. Yan Bugui, on the other hand, seemed not to hear, until Yi Zhonghai called out again, at which point he suddenly shuddered, raised his head listlessly, looked around blankly, and then followed with unsteady steps.

He was still frantically calculating in his mind how to scrape the missing twelve pounds of grain out of his family's mouths and from their already meager rice bowls, and he stumbled and staggered with every step he took.