Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

The bicycle bell rang, and the man and his dog joined the morning rush hour bicycle traffic. The wind whistled past their ears, bringing the city's awakening atmosphere. Big Yellow sat steadily, head held high, curiously observing the scenery along the way, occasionally glancing at a stray cat darting by the roadside, but never daring to leave its seat. This scene often drew sidelong glances from passersby; some found it novel, others thought it was "a waste of time," but Wei Chen paid no attention.

For Wei Chen, who had experienced the information explosion era, the work in the security department of the steel rolling mill was not particularly demanding, and was even somewhat monotonous. However, he did it conscientiously and responsibly, checking documents, inspecting materials, and registering them in the warehouse with meticulous care.

The partnership with warehouse manager Li Zhijun was quite pleasant. Old Li was a man of few words but a man of action. The two of them guarded the quiet equipment warehouse, each busy with their own tasks, occasionally chatting about trivial matters and exchanging "news" from the factory and yard. Time passed quickly.

The end-of-get off work bell is the clarion call of liberation. Wei Chen once again rode his bicycle, carrying his somewhat lazy but still bright-eyed Da Huang, who had finished a day's "studies," and rode towards the setting sun, through the streets gradually filled with the aroma of dinner cooking, back to his little haven deep in the alley.

Pushing open the slightly mottled wooden door of the east courtyard, a familiar and reassuring atmosphere wafts out. I often see my mother, Wang Xiulan, just coming back from outside, standing under the eaves, slightly bent over, carefully brushing the mud and grass clippings off her trousers.

Her hair was slightly disheveled by the wind, and her cheeks had a healthy blush from walking. The old willow basket she carried contained only a small portion of sparse wild vegetables—mostly shepherd's purse that had just sprouted and whose leaves were still covered in downy hairs, a few clumps of bitter lettuce with serrated leaves, and a handful or two of dandelions with small yellow flowers, the tender stems of which were barely edible.

"Mom, you're back? How was the harvest today?" Wei Chen asked as he parked the car and untied Da Huang's leash. Da Huang affectionately nestled against Wang Xiulan's legs, sniffed the wild vegetables in her basket, and then gently nuzzled her hand with its head as a greeting.

"That's all," Wang Xiulan poured the wild vegetables into an enamel basin, straightened up, and rubbed her lower back. "I went to that patch of wild land near the north city wall. Guess what? Good heavens, it was more lively than a market! Adults and children, carrying baskets and hampers, practically ransacked that patch of land. Those with sharp eyes and quick hands could pick up some leftovers, but those of us who arrived later just joined in the fun." Her tone was calm, revealing little disappointment, more like she was describing a common sight.

Wei Chen understood perfectly. Every few days, his mother would go with Aunt Liu from the middle courtyard and Grandma Li from the back courtyard to dig for wild vegetables. Rather than for the insignificant "nourishment," it was more of a gesture of integrating into collective life, a wisdom to avoid being isolated.

In this environment where every household is tightening their belts and neighbors are watching each other (or rather, supervising each other), if you never see any wild vegetables in your home and live your "good life" behind closed doors all day, you will inevitably attract unnecessary speculation, jealousy, or even gossip.

Wang Xiulan used this gentle approach to show that her family was also "getting through the difficulties together," maintain contact with her old friends, and also get some exercise and relaxation.

Wei Chen wholeheartedly agreed with this. As long as his mother was careful and didn't go to remote or desolate places, he never stopped her. Instead, he often told her, "Just treat it as a walk, don't tire yourself out."

"It's good that we didn't find anything, saves us the trouble of cleaning up. Just consider it getting some fresh air and chatting with Aunt Liu and Grandma Li." Wei Chen took the basin. "Mom, you rest, I'll wash it."

"This little bit of work won't tire you out," Wang Xiulan said, but she didn't insist any further. She turned around and went into the slightly cramped but neatly organized kitchen to start preparing dinner for the family.

The soft clatter of pots and pans, the crackling of a match being struck, and the popping of firewood in the stove—these most ordinary sounds form the warmest background music of a home.

That evening, Wang Xiulan finely chopped the tender shepherd's purse she had just dug up, mixed it with some cornmeal and a little bit of precious soybean powder, kneaded it into dough, and made about ten wild vegetable dumplings.

Meanwhile, she scooped out a small bowl of wheat flour that she had been saving for a long time, mixed it with some fine bran, kneaded it with warm water, rolled it into two thin pancakes, and fried them in an iron pan with very little oil until both sides were golden brown, emitting a rich wheat aroma.

When steaming the vegetable dumplings, she hesitated for a moment, but still carefully tilted the empty sesame oil bottle and dripped four or five drops of amber-colored sesame oil into the shepherd's purse filling.

In an instant, a unique aroma rose up—the fresh, earthy scent of wild vegetables and the rustic richness of coarse grains were all integrated and enhanced by the domineering yet harmonious aroma of those few drops of thick sesame oil, making them tempting and mouthwatering.

"Oh, you're treating us to something special today? Did you put sesame oil in the vegetable dumplings?" Wei Chen walked into the kitchen to help serve the food, smelling the aroma and asking with a smile. "The shepherd's purse is tender, but it's a bit 'green'. Adding a couple of drops of sesame oil will tone it down, and Ranran will be able to eat a couple more."

As Wang Xiulan took the pancakes out of the pan and cut them into small diamond-shaped pieces, she explained, "The oil bottle is almost empty, so I might as well use it. We'll think of something else after we finish this meal."

"It's alright, Mom! I'll bring some oil back tomorrow! I have connections!" Wei Chen said with a smile. "You can eat as much as you like without worry. Don't skimp on the cooking either; I'll always take care of it!"

Just then, Wei Ran came home from school. As soon as she entered the yard, she sniffed, "It smells so good! Mom, are you making pancakes?"

"You have such a keen sense of smell!" Wang Xiulan replied from the kitchen. "Hurry up and wash your hands, get ready to eat. We're having sesame oil vegetable dumplings today." "Really?" Wei Ran cheered. Before she could even put her schoolbag down properly, she rushed to the basin and hastily washed her hands, eagerly waiting for dinner to be served.

Under the dim light, a family of three sat around a small square table. There were golden, glistening flatbreads, dark green, plump wild vegetable dumplings, a dish of pickled radish shreds drizzled with soy sauce and vinegar, and three bowls of fragrant rice porridge.

The simple meal seemed especially sumptuous because of the few drops of sesame oil and the family reunion. Wei Ran couldn't wait to pick up a dumpling, blow on it, and take a big bite.

The initial taste is slightly bitter from the wild vegetables, followed by the coarse and substantial sweetness of corn and soybean flour that melts in the mouth. The most delightful part is the rich, oily sensation brought by a few drops of sesame oil, which instantly soothes the astringency of the wild vegetables and the roughness of the coarse grains, making the overall flavor more complex and layered.

"Mmm! Delicious! Mom, today's vegetable dumplings are so fragrant! Even more fragrant than meat buns!" Wei Ran's eyes curved into crescents as she ate, her cheeks bulging.

Seeing how eager she was, Wang Xiulan couldn't help but laugh: "Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you. It's just sesame oil for flavor."

Wei Chen also picked one up and savored it. Indeed, hunger is the best seasoning, but the satisfaction at this moment did not come solely from the emptiness in his stomach.

The "deliciousness" of these vegetable dumplings is based on a relatively comfortable lifestyle—the family is willing to use sesame oil for seasoning, and Wei Chen's family usually eats well, with rice, noodles, and meat always available. That's why they find these coarse wild vegetable dumplings to have a unique flavor. The fact that their daily diet, while not luxurious, is generally nutritious makes this occasional "wildness" a treat rather than a torment.

Wei Chen knew perfectly well that for many families in the courtyard who were truly worried about their next meal, wild vegetable dumplings were a staple food they had no choice but to eat. Without the comfort of sesame oil, there was only an undeniable bitterness and an emptiness that was hard to fill their stomachs. Every bite they swallowed was a heavy burden of life.

This clear understanding makes him feel a complex mix of emotions while enjoying this simple delicacy, cherishing the present peace while maintaining a calm and detached perspective on the hardships around him.

After dinner, everything was tidied up. The spring night breeze blew through the window, carrying the distant sound of a radio playing opera, and the faint noise of children chasing and playing in the alley.

Wei Chen sat on the old rattan chair in the main room, looking out the window at the two plots of land in his small courtyard that had already been leveled and were gleaming with a deep brown luster under the moonlight. A thought naturally came to mind.

"Mom," he turned to Wang Xiulan, who was mending an old garment under the lamp, and said, "The weather is getting warmer every day. It's a shame to leave our two plots of land empty like this. What do you think we should plant in the spring? We can't just leave them barren forever, or just plant a few scallions and garlic."

Upon hearing this, Wang Xiulan stopped her needlework, looked up, and gazed at the two plots of land outside the window. She pondered for a moment, clearly having already considered it: "There are quite a few things we can plant in April. If we're talking about fast-growing, quick-fix options, bok choy, rapeseed, and spinach will all work. Just sow the seeds, water them regularly, and we can harvest them in a month or two. If we want a harvest in the summer and autumn, we'll have to plant beans, eggplants, peppers, and tomatoes. However, it's a bit too late to start our own seedlings now; we'll have to go to the seed station to see if they sell ready-made seedlings, though they'll definitely be more expensive than seeds. Cucumbers and pumpkins can also be planted, but they take up a lot of space, and our yard is small, so we'll have to be careful with our choices."

Upon hearing this, Wei Ran, who was hunched over her desk doing her homework, immediately looked up, her eyes sparkling, and interjected, "Brother! Let's plant tomatoes! They're red and sweet, delicious eaten raw or stir-fried! And cucumbers too, so crisp and refreshing!"

"You little glutton, all you ever think about is food." Wang Xiulan laughed and gently scratched her scalp with a needle. "Tomatoes are delicious, but they're delicate. They need a lot of fertilizer, too little sun and they'll rot, and too much rain will attract bugs. Cucumbers are the same; they need trellises and take up a lot of space."