Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

The cold wind of December, like a brush dipped in ice water, swept through the streets and alleys of Beijing again and again. The sky was always overcast, and the sun was rarely seen. But this biting cold could not freeze the warmth in people's hearts for the New Year. As the end of the year approached, the atmosphere, mixed with anticipation, busyness and a little anxiety, grew thicker and thicker in the alleys and courtyards.

Long lines formed outside grain and grocery stores before dawn. People, bundled in thick cotton-padded coats, tucked their hands in their pockets, stamped their feet, and stared anxiously at the still-unopened doors. They clutched their ration books, food coupons, and industrial vouchers tightly, as if afraid of losing them.

The items in the counter were always limited, consisting of only some cabbage, radishes, potatoes with ice crystals, and occasionally a bit of frozen tofu or vermicelli, which would cause a small stir.

Meat? That's a rare commodity. The meager few ounces of meat ration coupons allocated to each person each month are carefully planned by thrifty housewives: should they be saved for dumplings on New Year's Eve, or used to make a pot of radish soup to nourish the elderly and children? It's a difficult question.

The courtyard house at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang was no exception. Behind the curtains of every household in the front, middle, and back courtyards, the sounds of calculation and whispering never ceased.

In the front yard of Yan Bugui's house, the dinner table, as usual, consisted of thin porridge so thin you could see your reflection in it and dark, mushy pickled vegetables. Auntie San held her chopsticks, but hesitated to put anything in her mouth, her face full of worry as she said to Yan Bugui, "Father, the Lunar New Year is almost here, and what are we going to do with the New Year's supplies? The little bit of flour on the ration book, plus all the other coupons, is barely enough to make a meal of dumplings. We still have two ounces of meat coupons, but if we go too late, the fat will have already been taken, leaving only lean meat scraps. What's that enough for? Jiecheng and Jiefang, those two young men, are at the age where they can eat a lot..."

Yan Bugui pushed up his glasses, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes behind the lenses. He slowly picked up a shredded pickled vegetable, savoring it as if it were a delicacy. "What's the rush? There's always a way. We still have some peanuts at home, right? I'm thinking, once I get paid, I'll go to the black market... cough, the pigeon market, and see if I can exchange them for something."

He paused, then lowered his voice: "Besides, isn't there another 'big shot' in the yard? That kid Wei Chen brought back so much beef and mutton last time, I don't believe he won't show some off during the New Year. Haven't I always told our family to get along well with him? We can use the New Year as an excuse to visit each other and build a relationship. A close neighbor is worse than a distant relative, right? There are only three people in his family, how much can they eat? A little bit leaking between their fingers is enough to satisfy our cravings."

The third aunt's eyes lit up: "You mean... Wei Chen's family? But that kid's shrewd, especially about that job opportunity last time..."

"Times have changed," Yan Bugui interrupted her confidently. "Work is work, it's a big deal concerning one's future, so it's understandable that he's holding on tightly. But the New Year is the New Year, it's about celebration, peace, and harmonious neighborly relations. Besides, we usually get along well with his family." He was calculating, wanting to gain an advantage without spending any money, and also appearing to be "helping each other out."

The atmosphere at Liu Haizhong's home in the Zhongyuan Court was somewhat oppressive. Uncle Liu Haizhong sipped cheap, bulk liquor, his brow furrowed. There was at least a plate of stir-fried cabbage on the table, with a few scattered pieces of fatty meat, but this did little to improve his mood.

"Dad, I heard the factory's benefits are pretty good this year? How much meat will our family get?" The second son, Liu Guangtian, asked, picking at the rice in his bowl. He idled away his days, hoping to eat a few more good meals during the New Year.

"Eat, eat, all you ever do is eat!" Liu Haizhong slammed his wine cup on the table with a loud thud. "Benefits? Those are based on rank and seniority! Your old man is a level six worker, a key member of the workshop, do you think I'd be shortchanged?"

He spoke tough on the surface, but his heart was pounding. Last year, each person in the factory only received half a pound of meat for the Spring Festival, and it was mostly lean with very little fat. This year, the harvest was even worse, and thanks to Wei Chen who brought in the meat, the factory's benefits were pretty good today! But he couldn't say this in front of the younger generation, as it would damage his dignity as "Second Uncle" and "Level Six Worker".

What bothered him more was something else. Seeing Wei Chen doing so well, not only was he doing very well himself, but even his cousin from the countryside had gotten a job at the factory, and he was sure to get a good year-end bonus.

On my way home just now, I think I saw something bulging on Wei Chen's handlebars... The thought that Wei Chen might be receiving even better benefits than me made Liu Hai feel a pang of unease. He's a level six worker! He's the second-in-command of the compound! Why should some young upstart surpass him?

"Hmph, some people, just because they got lucky, they think they're all that. What's the use of getting lots of benefits? It's all just fluff! As a person, you still have to be down-to-earth, rely on your skills and seniority!" Liu Haizhong seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps lecturing his son. His voice wasn't loud, but it was just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear clearly.

Auntie Er sighed and didn't reply. She knew her husband was being petty again, jealous of Wei Chen. But what good was jealousy? He just had the ability to get things. She was actually hoping the factory's benefits would improve, so they could get more fatty meat to render into oil, and make a decent batch of dumplings for the New Year.

As always, dinner at the Jia family's house was a meager affair. The cornmeal porridge was so thin you could count the grains of rice, and the only side dish was pickled mustard greens. Banggeng stared longingly at the table, muttering softly, "Mom, I want to eat meat..."

Qin Huairu's hand trembled, almost dropping the pickled vegetables into the porridge. How she longed for her child to have some meat! But with Jia Dongxu's meager salary, even with careful budgeting, it was barely enough to make ends meet. The few meat ration coupons they had each month were barely enough to buy a piece of meat the thickness of a finger, and even then, they had to give some to her mother-in-law and husband. She herself was a rural resident, unemployed, and didn't even have access to government-subsidized grain rations; she had to be extremely frugal with every penny.

Madam Jia, her eyelids drooping, muttered to herself, whether chanting Buddhist prayers or cursing, it was hard to tell. Suddenly, she raised her triangular eyes and glanced at Qin Huairu: "Dongxu's wife, the New Year is almost here, can't you think of anything? Look at the old lady in the backyard, and the third uncle's family in the front yard, which family isn't preparing some New Year's goods? Our family, on the other hand, is all bare and cold, what kind of appearance is this! Our son is at the age where he needs to grow..."

Qin Huairu felt bitter inside. What could she do? Steal or rob? She lowered her head, silently drinking her porridge, not daring to say a word.

Jia Dongxu silently drank his porridge, his face gloomy. He had also heard the rumors in the courtyard about the factory's welfare benefits, and his heart was filled with both anticipation and bitterness. He hoped he could get a larger share, but he was bitter because even if he did, it certainly wouldn't compare to the "special treatment" Wei Chen received.

He recalled overhearing his coworkers discussing Wei Chen's meritorious service in Inner Mongolia during the day in the workshop, and then he remembered Yi Zhonghai's failed attempt to "help," and a nameless anger welled up inside him. Why did that kid get all the good things? And he couldn't do anything about it!

The scene in Xu Damao's backyard was quite different. Xu Damao hadn't finished get off work yet. Xu Damao was a projectionist, and he was even busier at the end of the year, when he had to go to the countryside or various units to show movies. Sometimes he could earn some "extra money"—local products given by villagers, or snack coupons given by his work unit.

The deaf old woman sat as before at her doorstep, wrapped in a thick cotton coat, her eyes half-closed, like a silent statue. She seemed oblivious to the undercurrents in the courtyard, yet also as if she saw it all. Only the occasional twitch of her eyelids betrayed a slight unease within her. The New Year? For this lonely old woman, a hot meal and someone remembering to bring her dumplings were enough for her to celebrate the New Year.

Amidst the atmosphere of sorrow, calculation, and anticipation in each household, the Wei Chen family in the east courtyard was quietly undergoing changes in a subtle and pervasive way.

The changes were first evident in the food. Although Wei Chen and Wang Xiulan were both low-key, some things couldn't be hidden. For example, the occasional aroma of stir-fried dishes wafting from the east courtyard—oily and meaty—was particularly tempting in this era of bland food. Another example was when Wei Ran and her friends played, she would sometimes pull out a few rare fruit candies from her pocket, drawing longing glances from the other children.

Around the 20th of the twelfth lunar month, the changes reached a small climax. That evening, as darkness fell, Wei Chen pushed his bicycle back, with two bulging, heavy burlap sacks tied to either side of the back seat.

"Mom, Ranran, come and lend a hand, be careful." Wei Chen's voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet evening.

Wang Xiulan and Wei Ran quickly came out of the house. The mother and daughter worked together to unload the sack and carry it into the main room. After closing the door and opening the sack, Wang Xiulan couldn't help but exclaim "Ah!" She quickly covered her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise.

Inside the sack were pieces of pork with distinct red and white layers and fat as thick as two fingers, as well as beef with beautiful marbling and a bright red color, probably weighing more than ten pounds in total! The fatty parts gleamed with a warm, jade-like luster under the dim kerosene lamp, while the lean parts were firm and shiny.

In another burlap sack was a rare white plastic bucket, sealed tightly, but a faint, rich oily aroma emanated from the edge of the lid. Next to it were several long, rectangular packages carefully wrapped in old newspapers.

"This...so much meat! And...this is oil?" Wang Xiulan's voice was extremely low, trembling with disbelief. She reached out and touched the piece of pork belly; the cool, slippery texture felt incredibly real. She then carefully lifted the plastic bucket; it was heavy, probably weighing ten pounds!

"Peanut oil, Mom. A friend helped me make it. It's more fragrant than rapeseed oil and doesn't have any strange taste." Wei Chen explained softly, then opened the old newspaper package, inside which were perfectly dried, dark red strips of meat, emitting a unique cured and meaty aroma. "These are the dried venison and wild donkey meat I brought back from Inner Mongolia last time, and I brought them back together today."

Wei Ran curiously approached the plastic bucket, took a deep breath, and her eyes curved into crescents: "Brother, it smells so good! Much better than the oil from the supply and marketing cooperative!"