Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

A simple breakfast consisted of leftover porridge from the previous night, reheated and eaten with a little pickled vegetable. Wang Xiulan ate absentmindedly, repeatedly checking her luggage and reminding Wei Chen to bring his letter of introduction, food coupons, and train tickets. Wei Chen agreed, but his mind was already planning the journey. There was only one early morning long-distance bus from the city to the county town on Sundays; if he missed it, he would have to wait until tomorrow.

After breakfast and tidying up, Wang Xiulan did a final check of the doors and windows to make sure the stove was sealed. Wei Chen carried a heavy burlap sack in each hand, hoisting it steadily onto his shoulders. Wang Xiulan carried a bundle containing clothes and daily necessities on her back, and a bundle containing dry food and a water bottle in her hands. Wei Ran clutched her small cloth bag like a precious treasure, staying close to her mother.

Pushing open the door, a blast of biting cold air hit them. The courtyard was still quiet; most people were still sleeping in. Only Yan Bugui from the front yard was carefully sweeping the pitiful amount of dust in front of his house with a worn-out broom. Seeing the family of three emerge with bags and bundles, he pushed up his glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, and asked in surprise, "Oh, Wei Chen, so early in the morning, are you... going on a long trip?"

"Good morning, Uncle," Wei Chen stopped and nodded politely. "I'm off today, so I'm taking my mom and sister back to our hometown to visit the elders. It's almost Chinese New Year, so we should go back and see them."

"Going back to your hometown? You should go back and take a look!" Yan Bugui's small eyes quickly swept over the two heavy-looking burlap sacks on Wei Chen's shoulders, and then lingered on Wang Xiulan and Wei Ran's old but neat clothes, a hint of envy and inquiry flashing in his eyes.

He knew that Wei Chen seemed quite "active" lately. During the last blind date fiasco with Sha Zhu, Yi Zhonghai took sides, but Wei Chen didn't say much in the end; he remained remarkably calm. "Be careful on the road. It's cold outside. Why aren't you riding your bike? Taking a car isn't comfortable either!"

"Yes! It's too cold, riding a bicycle is too much of a hassle! Let's take a car! Thanks for reminding me, Uncle." Wei Chen didn't want to say much more, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then led his mother and sister out of the courtyard gate.

It was colder on the street than in the courtyard. The biting wind howled through the air without any shelter, stinging the face. The sky was already bright, but it was still hazy, with the sun hiding behind thick clouds, letting out only a listless sliver of white light.

There were far fewer pedestrians than usual, only a few workers rushing to their early shifts, wearing bulky cotton-padded coats, tattered cotton hats or scarves, their faces completely covered, necks hunched, hurrying towards the factory. The roadside breakfast stalls emitted thin steam, and people lined up in short queues to buy breakfast, clutching their precious food coupons and a few cents tightly in their hands.

The long-distance bus station they were going to was in the west of the city, and they needed to take a bus for a few stops first. When they arrived at the bus station, there were already quite a few people waiting for the bus, most of them with their families and carrying large and small bags, looking like they were also heading back to their hometowns or going out early.

People huddled together, relying on each other's body heat and the white breath they exhaled to slightly ward off the cold, their faces mostly bearing a numb weariness and worry about the journey ahead.

The vehicle arrived; it was an old, worn-out public bus with peeling paint and thick frost flowers on the windows.

As soon as the train doors opened, the crowd surged forward. Wei Chen, protecting his mother and sister, struggled to squeeze onto the carriage, placing the sack at his feet and holding it tightly between his body and legs.

The carriage was immediately filled with a mixture of smells: cheap tobacco, sweat, kerosene, and the strong odor of pickled vegetables or stinky tofu that someone had brought. Wei Ran coughed twice, her face scrunched up from the stench. Wang Xiulan pulled her into her arms, shielding her from the crowd with her body.

The vehicle started shakily, bumping along the uneven road. Wei Chen steadied the sack with one hand and gripped the handrail with the other, his gaze fixed on the rapidly receding street scene outside the window.

The city gradually receded into the distance, the buildings along the road became shorter and sparser, and vast fields began to appear. The North China Plain in winter was a desolate, earthy yellow. The harvested land lay bare, the remaining crop stubble shivering in the cold wind.

The outlines of distant villages were faintly visible in the mist, and the chimneys of many rooftops emitted only wisps of gray smoke, appearing lifeless. The trees along the roadside were bare, their branches pointing menacingly towards the sky. Along some field ridges or ditches, hunched figures could be vaguely seen wandering about—people who had risen early to painstakingly search the frozen ground for any grains of food or wild vegetable roots they might have missed.

Wei Chen's heart sank lower and lower as the scenery outside the window changed. Although life in the city was also tough, at least there was a fixed amount of food every month, and people wouldn't starve.

This vast land before us is the true picture of survival for most Chinese people in this era—barren, desolate, and struggling on the edge of hunger.

Wei Chen instinctively gripped the burlap sack at his feet even tighter. Inside, here, was not just food, a scarce commodity, but also hope—something tangible that could bring a little more color to the faces of his loved ones.

Wei Ran seemed a little carsick, leaning against her mother's chest, her face pale. Wang Xiulan tenderly fed her some hot water, softly humming an unknown lullaby to comfort her. Wei Chen looked at his sister's discomfort, then at the graying hairs at his mother's temples, and a complex mix of emotions welled up inside him. The thought of making sure his family had a better life had never been so clear and firm.

The bus rattled along for nearly an hour before finally arriving at the commune's bus station. The family of three disembarked with the flow of people, their legs feeling numb. The commune was much quieter and more dilapidated than the city of Beijing; the streets were narrow, lined with low bungalows or drab two-story buildings with peeling walls. There weren't many pedestrians, and most of them looked malnourished, hurrying along. Occasionally, a vendor would appear, selling roasted sweet potatoes or sugar-roasted chestnuts, tending a small charcoal stove, but business was slow.

Wei Chen never imagined that riding in a car in this era would be so uncomfortable. In the past, when he went back to the village, he would ride a bicycle or take a car from the factory. He never thought that riding in a car in this era would be so difficult and uncomfortable!

They didn't stop at the commune. After asking for directions, they learned that the "bus" heading towards Baoyuquan Village stopped near the freight yard in the east of the town. This so-called "bus" was actually a dilapidated horse-drawn carriage, used by villagers from nearby villages who had no farm work and came out to pick up passengers and make some money! Of course, this money belonged to the collective; individuals received work points. There were already several people on the carriage, mostly villagers from nearby villages, carrying all sorts of luggage, baskets, and even chickens and ducks with their feet tied, left in a corner, making restless squawking.

Wei Chen expended some more effort and gave a few more cents to barely manage to stuff the two sacks into the already overcrowded carriage. The family was crammed into a corner near the back of the carriage, with almost no room to put their feet down. After the carriage set off, the ride became even more bumpy, and the cold wind felt like knives.

Wei Chen clutched the sack and his sister tightly, his heart heavy. The road back home was so difficult. And his family back home lived on this land day after day; their hardships were unimaginable.

The carriage struggled along the bumpy dirt road for nearly an hour before finally stopping at a fork in the road. The driver shouted in a hoarse voice, "Bao Yuquan! People from Bao Yuquan, get off! Walk a mile ahead yourself!"

Wei Chen quickly helped his mother, carried his younger sister, and with their luggage, staggered off the bus. The cold wind blowing under his feet on the hard, cold dirt road actually made him a little more alert.

Looking up, a dirt road, rutted with tire tracks and worn by footsteps, winds its way towards a village in the distance, surrounded by bare poplar and locust trees. That is Baoyuquan Village, the place where he was born and raised.

Wei Chen cleverly tied the two burlap sacks to both ends of the carrying pole with the rope he had brought, and carried them on his shoulders like a real porter. This way, it was less strenuous. Wang Xiulan carried one bundle on her back and held the other in her hand. Wei Ran hugged her small cloth bag; although tired, she mustered her spirits at the thought of seeing her grandparents soon.

The fields on both sides of the road were even more desolate, and the frozen soil was as hard as iron. Occasionally, you could see clods of soil that had been turned over, traces left by people repeatedly "re-harvesting" after the autumn harvest, not letting go of any grain that might be left behind.

The cold wind whipped up sand and dust, stinging our faces. Occasionally, we'd encounter one or two villagers, wearing worn-out cotton-padded coats, their original color barely discernible, patched upon patched, their hands tucked into their sleeves, necks hunched, walking slowly in the cold wind.

Seeing these three relatively neatly dressed "outsiders" carrying loads and luggage, everyone cast curious and inquisitive glances, which eventually settled on the sacks, a mixture of surprise, envy, and even a touch of numbness in their eyes. Some seemed to recognize Wang Xiulan, pointing and whispering from afar.

The closer Wei Chen got to the village, the faster his heart pounded, a feeling of trepidation washing over him as he approached home. Especially this time, he wasn't just returning; he was returning with the hope and the ability to change his family's circumstances.

Finally, the ancient locust tree at the village entrance, whose age was unknown, came into view. Its crown had long since shed its leaves, leaving only its strong, iron-like branches, standing like a silent and resilient guardian under the gray winter sky. Beneath the tree, a few figures stood, peering in this direction.

Wei Chen squinted, slowing his pace to make his own identification. The hunched figure leaning on a polished jujube wood cane—who else could it be but his grandfather, Wei Laoshuan? Beside him, supported by a woman, was none other than his grandmother, Wang Shi! And a few other figures—his uncle, Wei Changsheng? His cousin, Wei Feng? They had been waiting here all along!

Wei Chen had previously used the phone in Jin Aiguo's office to call his uncle at the brigade headquarters and mention that he would be back today! In the rural areas near Beijing, due to the special circumstances, telephones existed in those days, usually at the brigade headquarters.

"Mom! Ranran! Look! Grandpa! Grandma! Uncle and the others have come to pick us up!" Wei Chen's voice rose slightly with excitement, and trembled noticeably.

Wang Xiulan saw it too, and tears welled up in her eyes instantly. Ignoring her exhaustion, she quickened her pace, almost running, her voice choked with sobs: "Dad! Mom!" Wei Ran also excitedly shouted: "Grandpa! Grandma! Uncle!" She took small steps and ran forward after her mother.