Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

The courtyard fell silent for a moment, then erupted into even louder chatter. "Wow! He really deposited it?" "Over four thousand! He just deposited it like that?" "Is Third Uncle... making a statement?" "He's probably afraid it'll get stolen again!"

Director Wang glanced at the deposit slip, then gave Yan Bugui a deep look. She understood Yan Bugui's ulterior motives: first, to seize the opportunity to demonstrate his loyalty to her and the neighborhood committee and try to get lenient treatment; second, to publicly announce that the money had been deposited in the bank, which was not only in line with the policy but also a way of telling the thief who might be lurking in the shadows—don't even think about it, stealing the deposit slip won't help! This old fox, he's calculating to the core, even about something like this.

However, this move did objectively benefit her publicity. Director Wang's expression softened slightly. She took the deposit slip, glanced at it, nodded, and raised her voice a little: "Everyone has seen it! Although Comrade Yan Bugui made a mistake, he was able to recognize it in time, actively correct it, and respond to the national call with practical actions by depositing the money in the bank!"

This is commendable! Money in the bank is useless if a thief steals the deposit certificate! As I said, withdrawing money requires procedures and proof! This protects the country's financial order and, more importantly, protects the hard-earned money of ordinary people like us!

She waved the deposit slip in her hand: "We saw Comrade Yi Zhonghai's deposit slip during the search last night. It was right there at home, not a single penny missing! Why? Because the thief knew that stealing that stuff was useless! He stole cash, gold bars! Comrades, doesn't that say it all?"

Listening to this, Yi Zhonghai felt a mix of emotions, a bittersweet feeling rising in his throat. His own painful experience of being robbed had become a negative example for Director Wang's propaganda on the safety of bank savings! And Yan Bugui, that old miser, had actually seized the opportunity to stage a "prodigal son returns" act! He felt a tightness in his chest, and his vision began to blur again.

Director Wang's words truly resonated with the vast majority of people present. The shock of last night had not yet subsided, and the tragedy of Yi Zhonghai's family was right before their eyes. Yan Bugui's "timely deposit" was like a shot in the arm.

"Director Wang is absolutely right!" "I really don't feel safe keeping it at home!" "I'll go deposit it first thing tomorrow morning!" "I'll deposit my little bit of money too, to earn interest!" "Yes, yes, yes! Safety first!"

Seeing the enthusiastic response from the audience, Director Wang knew she had achieved her goal. Seizing the opportunity, she went on to talk about the convenience of bank savings and the country's financial policies, encouraging everyone to deposit their spare money in banks, as it would benefit the country and its people.

Finally, she looked at Yan Bugui: "Yan Bugui, the self-criticism you need to write must be at least two thousand words! It must be profound! It must touch your soul! You will read your self-criticism aloud in front of everyone at the first activity of next week's study session! Do you understand?"

"I heard you! I heard you! Don't worry, Director Wang, I will definitely give a thorough self-criticism!" Yan Bugui quickly bowed and agreed, secretly relieved. He had temporarily gotten through this ordeal. The money was gone, but he was safe and his job was temporarily safe. It was just... his heart clenched with heartache. Those dozen or so little yellow hairs!

The meeting ended in a complex atmosphere. As Director Wang left with his staff, scattered but sincere applause rang out in the courtyard. On the one hand, everyone felt that Director Wang's words made sense; on the other hand, they also had mixed feelings about Yan Bugui escaping a more severe punishment.

As soon as Director Wang left, the discussions in the courtyard immediately grew louder.

"This is terrible for Uncle San. He's lost his gold bars and now he has to write a self-criticism."

"Writing a self-criticism is the least of your worries! You're lucky you weren't arrested!"

"That's true, it's his own fault for hiding so much gold without reporting it."

"But he deposited the money quickly; he went to deposit it in the afternoon."

"Can we not store it? Are we just leaving it at home to get stolen again? Those thieves lurking in the shadows might be eyeing someone else's house!"

"Exactly! I think we should all save them quickly! Keeping them at home is just too nerve-wracking!"

"Master Yi, it would have been so much better if you had saved it earlier..."

"Sigh, it's too late to say anything now..."

Yi Zhonghai listened to these discussions from the corner, each word like a whip lashing at his heart. He stood up shakily, and with the help of an older woman, he staggered into the house, his back hunched, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

Liu Haizhong, his belly protruding, stood in the center of the courtyard and cleared his throat: "Everyone, quiet down! You all heard what Director Wang said! We must actively respond to the national call! Those of you with spare money, deposit it in the bank as soon as possible! It's safe! Also, if there's anything going on in the courtyard in the future, feel free to come and discuss it with me! We must unite and not let such shameful things happen again!"

He tried to imitate Yi Zhonghai's tone of voice, attempting to establish his authority. However, he was only met with a few perfunctory "I know," while most people hurriedly dispersed, eager to go home and calculate their meager savings so they could deposit them in the bank the next day.

Yan Bugui walked home dejectedly, with his aunt, whose eyes were red, following behind him. As he passed Wei Chen, Yan Bugui paused, looked up at Wei Chen with a complicated expression. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only let out a long, silent sigh, hunched over, and disappeared behind his own door.

He knew that from this day forward, his reputation as "Old Man Yan" was completely ruined, and he would never be able to hold his head up in the courtyard again. All his scheming throughout his life had come to nothing.

Wei Chen, holding Da Huang's hand, stood under the moon gate of the east courtyard, coldly observing everything. A cool night breeze brushed against his cheek. Da Huang seemed to sense the emotions beneath its master's calm exterior and quietly nestled against his legs.

Director Wang's on-site meeting and Yan Bugui's "active deposit" were like two boulders thrown into an already turbulent lake, stirring up new ripples.

The idea of ​​depositing money, like a seed, has taken root and sprouted in the minds of most residents. Their whispers are no longer just about last night's scandal, but more about their concerns about the safety of their assets and their curiosity and calculations regarding the bank.

The tragedy of Yi Zhonghai, the disgrace of Yan Bugui, and the wretchedness of the Jia family serve as mirrors, reflecting the greed and fragility of human nature, and the crumbling of old ideas under the tide of the new society. Liu Haizhong's eagerness to rise in rank foreshadows the impending upheaval and restructuring of the power structure within the courtyard house.

Wei Chen looked up at the dim starry sky, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. The first wave of the storm had passed, but a greater tempest might be yet to come. He gently patted Da Huang's head: "Let's go home."

He turned around and closed the heavy moon gate of the east courtyard, temporarily shutting out the noise and scheming inside.

Inside the gate lies a haven of peace he has protected with his abilities and prudence. Outside, a never-ending stage unfolds, where humanity and the times intertwine. And his journey is far from over.

After the evening street meeting, Director Wang's speech on the security of bank savings was like a stone thrown into water, creating ripples that spread across the calm surface of every household in the courtyard.

Wei Chen led Da Huang back to their small house in the east courtyard. His mother, Wang Xiulan, had already prepared dinner: simple cornmeal porridge and steamed buns, plus a dish of pickled vegetables. Under the dim light, Wang Xiulan's face bore a lingering worry.

"Chen'er, you're back? Come and eat." Wang Xiulan greeted him, but her eyes couldn't help but glance at the locked old wooden box in the room.

The money Wei Chen had given him was there; it was their entire family's savings. Although it couldn't compare to Yi Zhonghai's five thousand three hundred, it was still over twelve hundred yuan. It was the hard-earned money that she and her son had saved little by little through frugality, their hope for their son's future marriage and for dealing with unforeseen needs.

Wei Chen washed his hands, sat down, and picked up his bowl of porridge. Wang Xiulan, however, had little appetite. After hesitating for a moment, she finally put down her chopsticks, lowered her voice, and said worriedly, "Chen'er, I heard Director Wang say at the meeting today that money... keeping it at home is really not safe. Look at Uncle Yi... sigh, how tragic. More than five thousand yuan, gone just like that."

She paused, her eyes filled with lingering fear and determination: "Mom is thinking, how about... how about we deposit our money in the bank? Didn't Director Wang say that if we deposit it in the bank, even if a thief takes the deposit slip, they can't withdraw it; they'll need our household registration booklet. That would give Mom peace of mind."

Wei Chen swallowed the cornbread in his mouth, looking at his mother's worried face, a warm feeling welled up in his heart. He knew that his mother was truly frightened, and that she had really taken Director Wang's propaganda to heart.

He nodded, giving her a reassuring smile: "Mom, you're right. It's not safe to keep money at home. Tomorrow's a day off, I'll go to the bank with you, and we'll deposit the money."

Upon hearing her son's agreement, Wang Xiulan's tense expression eased somewhat, but she was still a little uneasy: "But... are banks... reliable? Giving them so much money..."

"Mom, don't worry." Wei Chen explained patiently, "The bank is state-owned, much safer than keeping it in our box. Look at Uncle San, didn't he deposit the money this afternoon? Director Wang also mentioned Uncle Yi's lost money; if you deposit it in the bank, you won't lose the deposit slip. Come with me tomorrow, and see for yourself how to deposit and withdraw. You'll be able to do it yourself from now on."

"By myself?" Wang Xiulan hesitated. "I...can I handle this? There are so many procedures..."

"Why not?" Wei Chen laughed. "You're not stupid, you'll understand after watching it once. In the future, if you need money at home, you can just take the deposit slip and household registration book to withdraw it, it's convenient. I can't always take time off to go with you."

Wang Xiulan felt much more at ease with her son's trust and encouragement. She nodded, "Okay... then. Let's go early tomorrow. Mom will prepare the household registration book and the money."

As the mother and son were talking, whispers and footsteps could be faintly heard coming from the middle and front courtyards. Clearly, they were not the only ones moved by Director Wang's words, frightened by Yi Zhonghai's tragic state, and stimulated by Yan Bugui's "active depositing."