Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Wei Chen paused slightly, his gaze sweeping between Qin Huairu and Sha Zhu's room, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. Remembering Xu Damao's unusual "quietness" lately, a sense of unease rose within him. His mental power was extraordinary; nothing in the courtyard could escape his notice, and he had naturally "seen" Xu Damao's recent secret stalking of Sha Zhu.

But this was someone else's feud, and as long as it didn't affect his own family, he didn't intend to get involved. However, looking at the seemingly peaceful scene of the courtyard in the twilight, he had a vague feeling that this brief tranquility probably wouldn't last long.

He shook his head, turned, and went inside his house. On the wall of the main room, the framed picture with the award certificate and family photo hung quietly in the dimming light, radiating a calming power. Outside, the spring breeze was still blowing, but somehow, it had quietly carried a subtle chill from the darker corners of human nature.

Xu Damao's revenge plan reached a stalemate. But he didn't give up; instead, he became even more anxious and persistent. The thought of revenge had become a kind of spiritual opium, sustaining his daily life. When direct attacks failed, he continued to spread rumors, slandering Sha Zhu indirectly, trying to gradually erode his reputation, while patiently waiting for an opportunity.

At the factory, Xu Damao seized every opportunity to ruin Sha Zhu's reputation. He was well aware of the power of gossip and was particularly adept at using seemingly casual remarks, but in reality full of malice, to "put bad taste in Sha Zhu's mouth" in front of his colleagues and coworkers.

In the propaganda department, while chatting with several staff members about the movie, he would suddenly steer the conversation toward the "harm of violence." "So, the class struggle depicted in this movie is sharp, but in our lives, we must also be wary of this tendency toward violence," Xu Damao said seriously. "Like some people in our factory, who rely on their strength and are quick to throw punches, that's not the style of the working class!"

Take He Yuzhu from our department, for example. He's the class monitor in the cafeteria, and a real bully in the department! He's been a troublemaker since he was a kid, and he's bullied countless neighbors. Last time, because of a little argument, he... sigh, let's not talk about it, it's infuriating." He gave a wry smile and a helpless expression, portraying himself as the victim.

In the workshop, during breaks from smoking with his coworkers, he would lament the hardships of life. "These days, every family has its own troubles. Some people think being a bachelor is easy, but actually, it's because no one is watching over them, which makes them more prone to problems." He exhaled a smoke ring. "Take He Yuzhu for example. He's single and doesn't have a family to worry about, and he gets a decent salary, but what does he do with it? Buy alcohol! When he's drunk, he acts crazy in the yard, talking nonsense, and sometimes even smashing things! You guys haven't seen what he's like... Tsk, what girl would dare to live with someone like that? Isn't that like jumping into a fire pit?" He shook his head and sighed, as if he were feeling sorry for his neighbor who had "gone astray."

In the logistics department, when trying to get close to the cadre in charge of supplies, he would subtly mention, "Boss, we need to tighten the management of our factory canteen, especially the kitchen. People's hearts are the hardest to fathom. Someone like He Yuzhu, with a bad temper and a fondness for alcohol, has very poor self-control. What if one day he gets drunk and steals something from the canteen? If word gets out, wouldn't that be terrible for our factory? I'm just worrying unnecessarily, but we're all in the same department, and seeing him like that, it's really a bit of a concern."

Xu Damao was very clever. He never directly said that Shazhu "stole" or "messed around". Instead, he used seemingly personal habits such as "loves to fight since childhood", "drinks and acts crazy when drunk", and "has a bad temper and no self-control" to label Shazhu as "dangerous", "unreliable" and "morally flawed".

These words, passed from person to person, are often embellished and gradually distorted. Although they may not cause immediate harm to Sha Zhu, they are like a slow poison, gradually eroding his reputation in the factory.

After hearing Xu Damao's "revelation" and considering Sha Zhu's usual reckless and straightforward temperament, many people began to believe it to some extent, and their gazes towards Sha Zhu became more strange and distant.

Indeed, the Jia family's situation was as Xu Damao had observed and as rumors circulated in the factory: they were in dire straits. Jia Dongxu was still a first-level worker at the time, earning a monthly salary of twenty-seven yuan and fifty cents, which was barely enough for his family of five to make ends meet when prices were stable.

His family only had one person's ration, and these were difficult times with a shortage of supplies. The ration had been reduced again and again, and many things required coupons or were even purchased at high prices.

Apart from Jia Dongxu, who had an urban household registration and a ration, Qin Huairu, Jia Zhangshi, and their two children all had rural household registrations. Their grain rationing wasn't in the city, so they had to buy expensive grain, which immediately strained their meager wages. Adding to this, Jia Dongxu's poor health and lazy habits prevented him from being promoted, making their lives even more difficult.

Therefore, the little food that Qin Huairu "borrowed" from Sha Zhu, though humiliating, was a real supplement for Jia Dongxu. Sometimes it was half a box of oily vegetables, which would allow Bang Geng and Xiao Dang to eat half a cornbread with it; sometimes it was two white steamed buns, which Jia Zhangshi would secretly eat one and hide the other to save for her grandson; occasionally there would be a bit of meat, which was a rare treat.

Jia Dongxu had extremely mixed feelings about this. As a man and the head of the household (in name), he felt incredibly humiliated and angry that his wife had to supplement the family income by getting food from other men (especially He Yuzhu, whom he had always looked down on and thought was stupid).

Every time Qin Huairu returned with those things, his face would darken to the point of being suffocating, and his chest would feel tight with worry. He wanted to yell, to curse, to throw those things away, but when he saw his mother quickly packing up the food, when he saw the children's longing eyes staring at those few drops of oil, when he saw his wife's tired and numb face, all the words stuck in his throat.

Ultimately, this pent-up grief and humiliation often transforms into a deeper, more silent melancholy. Or, while eating, one might swallow large mouthfuls of cornmeal porridge, slightly oily from the extra vegetable soup given by Sha Zhu, as if trying to chew and swallow all the embarrassment and helplessness along with the food.

He ate quickly and forcefully, barely looking up or saying a word. Qin Huairu remained silent, carefully serving the children. Jia Zhangshi ate rapidly, glancing at her son and daughter-in-law occasionally muttering things like "jinx" or "incompetent," but most of the time, she chose silence—everything else seemed secondary in the face of food.

……

Unlike Xu Damao's gloomy dormancy and the Jia family's heavy breathing, Sha Zhu and He Yuzhu's hearts were being tormented by another, more intense and straightforward emotion—the anxiety and longing of an older single man for settling down and starting a family.

Last December's failed blind date was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing his brief hope. But after spring arrived, as the weather warmed up and everything began to stir, his desire for a wife, a warm bed, and someone to confide in not only didn't die out, but instead burned even brighter, like weeds doused with oil.

He's twenty-five. In the hutongs of Beijing, not being able to get married at that age is already a topic of discussion.

Looking at the front and back yards and the neighbors on both sides, those boys who used to follow him around were all dressed in groom's clothes, some even holding babies in their arms; when he came home from get off work, walking through the middle and front yards, the lights shining from the windows of every household seemed especially warm, and the sounds of women instructing their children, couples talking in hushed tones, and the clinking of bowls and chopsticks could be heard from inside. The aroma of food in the air seemed much more tempting than the food he cooked alone at home.

During holidays and festivals, while other families are having lively family reunions, I can only bring two bottles of wine to Uncle Yi Zhonghai's house for a meal. I listen to Aunt Yi's concerned sighs and Uncle Yi's gentle urging, "Zhuzi, you should start thinking about your personal life." I see that although Uncle Yi's family doesn't have children, at least the old couple are living a peaceful life together...

All of these things, like countless tiny insects, gnawed day and night at Sha Zhu's seemingly rough but actually sensitive heart, which was also tinged with a bit of traditional male chauvinism and vanity.

He Yuzhu is tall and strong, a proper state-owned factory worker, and a skilled chef. He earns a little over thirty yuan a month and lives alone in the best main room of a courtyard house, a sunny private room. Why can't he find a wife? Why should he be pointed at and called a "bachelor" behind his back?

This thought became his obsession, the first worry he had when he opened his eyes each day and the last regret he had when he closed them. He was like a restless bull bound by invisible ropes, charging back and forth in his narrow world, desperately trying to find a way out.

Last time, he hired a matchmaker from the neighborhood, but he spent money, didn't get anything done, and ended up getting very angry. Sha Zhu thought the matchmaker was unreliable.

Just as Sha Zhu was overwhelmed by the growing anxiety of being a "bachelor" and wandering aimlessly through the alley like a headless fly, a seemingly accidental but destined spark of "inspiration" ignited on a chilly spring evening.

That day, Sha Zhu left work earlier than usual. After finishing the peak dinner rush in the canteen and cleaning up the stove, Director Ma didn't keep him for a lecture (mainly because he couldn't be bothered to see Sha Zhu's gloomy and unhappy face), and he strolled out of the factory gate. Feeling empty inside, he didn't want to go straight back to that cold, impersonal building, so he wandered aimlessly along the familiar alleyways. The setting sun cast long shadows, and every household was starting to prepare dinner; the smoke from the chimneys and the faint aroma of food only accentuated his loneliness.

As I walked, I unknowingly arrived at the gate of the neighboring compound. This compound was similar in layout to their No. 95 compound; it was also a large, mixed-use compound housing more than a dozen families. The gate was open, and I could hear women chattering and children playing inside.

Sha Zhu wasn't usually one to eavesdrop, but today he had something on his mind, so he slowed down and stood under an old locust tree not far from the courtyard gate, seemingly trying to draw some illusory warmth from the hustle and bustle of the world.