Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Xu Damao lay limp on the cold, smooth terrazzo floor of the hospital, feeling as if his bones had been removed, utterly dejected. Various curious, pitying, and even gloating glances pierced him like needles. The words "sperm motility almost zero" on the report burned his nerves like a red-hot iron.

"No...it can't be...it can't be me...it must be a mistake..." He muttered to himself absentmindedly, then suddenly got up from the ground and stumbled back to the examination room like a dying beast.

The stern-faced doctor hadn't left yet; he was tidying up the medical records on his desk. Seeing Xu Damao burst in, his eyes red and looking like a madman, his brows immediately furrowed.

"Doctor! Doctor!" Xu Damao lunged at the desk, gripping the edge tightly with both hands until his knuckles turned white. He gasped for breath, his eyes glazed over. "It's wrong! There must be a mistake! The report is wrong! I know my body! How could I be incapable?! Check it again! Now! I have money... I have money!"

He frantically pulled all the crumpled banknotes and a few grain coupons from his pocket and slammed them on the table. "Here, take all of this! Please! Check it one more time! The samples must have been mixed up! Or the machine is broken! Yes! It must be the machine that's broken!"

The doctor looked at the pile of change and food coupons on the table, then at Xu Damao's face, which was distorted by despair and fear, and a hint of helplessness and even deeper contempt flashed in his eyes.

He sighed, his tone still calm, but with a hint of barely perceptible fatigue: "Comrade, the hospital's testing procedures are very rigorous, the samples are clearly labeled, and there's no way we could make a mistake. The instruments are also calibrated regularly. We've repeatedly confirmed the data for your case."

"No! I don't believe it!!" Xu Damao roared, spitting as he spoke. "Check it again! Just once! Please, doctor! If... if the result is the same, I... I accept it! I'll even kowtow to you!" He made a move to kneel down.

The doctor quickly stopped him, his brows furrowed. In his many years of practice, he had seen many patients who struggled to accept reality, but he had rarely seen someone as hysterical and almost throwing a tantrum as Xu Damao.

To avoid further escalation, he sighed helplessly, "Fine. Since you insist, I can order another test. But I must make it clear that the results won't change. It's just a waste of time and medical resources."

"Thank you! Thank you, doctor! Thank you!" Xu Damao bowed repeatedly as if grasping at the last straw, his face showing a morbid, twisted expression that was a mixture of hope and despair.

The cold equipment, the awkward procedures, the humiliating wait… it all played out again. This time, Xu Damao remained silent throughout, his face ashen, his eyes vacant, like a puppet being manipulated at will.

But when he stepped back into that cramped "semen collection room," his body trembled violently, and a tremendous sense of fear and shame almost overwhelmed him.

The wait for the second result seemed to freeze. Xu Damao huddled on a bench in the corridor, his hands covering his head, his body trembling slightly. He dared not look at the time, dared not look around, his mind was blank, only the two words "extinct lineage" echoing wildly within him.

After some time, the doctor returned with the report. He handed it directly to Xu Damao, his tone calm and reassured: "The results are in. Completely consistent with the first time. Take a look for yourself."

Xu Damao took the report with trembling hands. His gaze skipped over all the data and fixed on the last line of conclusion—still that glaring red text: Sperm motility is extremely low, and the possibility of natural conception is extremely low.

Exactly the same! Not a single word has changed!

With a "thud," the report in Xu Damao's hand fluttered to the ground. He felt as if all his strength had been instantly drained, and he fell straight backward, crashing heavily onto the cold, hard ground. His vision blurred, his ears rang, and it felt as if the whole world was spinning and collapsing.

"Impossible...impossible...I am Xu Damao...how could I be a childless person...I am just like that old childless person Yi Zhonghai...It's over...it's all over..." He lay on the ground, staring blankly at the pale white ceiling of the hospital, his lips moving unconsciously, uttering weak, desperate murmurs.

Tears, mixed with snot and saliva, streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks, soaking the ground. The immense blow, like a tsunami, utterly shattered all his hopes, all his illusions, and all his dignity.

The doctor looked at him, shook his head, bent down to pick up the report from the ground, placed it next to him, and left without saying another word.

The corridor returned to its usual bustling noise, but all those sounds seemed so far away from Xu Damao. He lay sprawled on the ground like a lump of mud, clutching the report that felt like a death sentence, his eyes vacant, as if his soul had left his body, leaving only an empty shell utterly crushed by the words "extinction of his lineage."

Sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, casting a slanted glow on his pale, vacant face, yet it couldn't dispel the bone-chilling coldness and despair. The Lou family's wealth and glory, his dream of instant success, along with his most fundamental dignity and hope as a man, had all vanished completely in the cold, disinfectant-smelling corridor of Peking Union Medical College Hospital.

In the autumn of Beijing, the sky was so high it was almost blinding. A few wisps of thin clouds, stretched long and thin by the wind, hung lazily on the horizon. The sunlight, having lost the intense heat of midsummer, became gentle, casting dappled, swaying shadows on the blue brick ground through the old locust trees in the courtyard whose leaves were beginning to turn yellow.

The air was filled with a dry, dusty scent mixed with faint coal smoke, a kind of northern, slightly desolate autumn feeling that quietly spread.

Ever since the neighborhood committee and the steel mill joined forces to give Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong, those two "old men," a good beating, the entire courtyard, along with the steel mill, seemed to have had its rough edges smoothed out by an invisible hand, and suddenly became much quieter and smoother.

Yi Zhonghai's face, which always appeared dignified and "highly respected," now looked as if it had been plastered with a layer of mortar, stiff and wooden.

At the factory, he pinned himself to the cold lathe of the eighth-grade fitter, becoming almost mute except for necessary work instructions.

When he returned to the hospital after get off work, he walked hurriedly, head down, wishing he could shrink into the cracks of the brick wall. Occasionally, he would bump into Wei Chen, and his eyes would dart away faster than a startled rabbit, as if Wei Chen carried thorns that could burn him.

What about Liu Haizhong? His signature, round belly seems to have shrunk a bit. In the forging workshop, the hammer he used to wield with such flair, always ready to "educate" the younger workers, now hangs limply.

He no longer paced back and forth in the workshop with his hands behind his back, and dared not raise his voice to scold people. He seemed to have lost his backbone, silent and somewhat hunched over, only burying his head in the red-hot iron block, striking it again and again, the dull thud becoming his only language.

When he ran into Wei Chen in the courtyard, he was like someone whose backside was on fire. He would take a detour if he could, and if he really couldn't avoid him, he would call out "Officer Wei" in a voice that was weaker than a mosquito's buzz, with undisguised panic and guilt.

This oppressive atmosphere silently enveloped the area where they frequented. Those who used to fawn over them and gossip were now like wilted eggplants, keeping their tails between their legs, even speaking cautiously. The world seemed to have been muted, with only the sound of the wind whistling through the eaves, swirling a few early-fallen leaves.

Wei Chen was happy to have some peace and quiet.

He was still working in the security and purchasing departments of the steel rolling mill. The burden on his shoulders was not light, but without Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong stabbing him in the back from time to time and shooting him with cold arrows, the work was surprisingly smooth and comfortable.

He reports to the factory on time every day, sometimes handling routine matters in the security department. There are basically no specific jobs assigned to him; he just comes to participate in the basic training of the security department, which is a piece of cake for Wei Chen, who is capable of cultivation. Sometimes he would stroll over to the somewhat crowded office of the purchasing group three where he used to work.

"Hey! Wei Chen's back!" Old Zhang from Purchasing Team Three, with his sharp eyes, was the first to spot the figure at the door. He immediately put down the curled-up report in his hand and greeted him with a warm smile. The others in the office also looked up, and the atmosphere instantly became lively.

"Wei Chen, you finally remembered our little corner!" Xiao Li quickly dragged over a chair, vigorously wiping the surface with his sleeve. "Sit down, sit down! Have some water? You're a great contributor to our group three. This is freshly brewed jasmine tea, it smells wonderful!" He eagerly picked up the thermos to pour water.

Wei Chen waved his hand with a smile and leaned casually against the door frame: "Don't bother, I just drank a lot of water at the security office. I just came over to check if you guys are slacking off and delaying the factory's production schedule." His tone was relaxed and slightly teasing.

"Oh, my dear Officer Wei, look at what you're saying!" Old Zhang patted his chest, his voice booming. "Things are different now! With you, this big shot, watching over us from time to time, how dare we slack off? With your help, our Group Three is doing alright, barely managing to complete the task! Right, guys?"

"That's right, that's right!" "Absolutely!" Everyone chimed in, their faces beaming with genuine smiles.

Although Wei Chen is very capable, he is approachable and sentimental, often coming back to visit, which makes the purchasing team feel very welcome and at ease.

Everyone gathered around him, talking about what was happening at the factory and the difficulties they were facing. Wei Chen listened patiently, occasionally offering a few words of advice or laughing heartily. The atmosphere was as harmonious as a family chat.

"Okay, I'm relieved to see that you all seem to be in good spirits." Wei Chen chatted for a while, then checked the time and said, "You guys keep going, I'm going out for a stroll."

"Alright! Take care, Xiao Chen!" Everyone warmly escorted him to the door.