In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 107, Section 106: Persuading People to Change and Integrate

Yang Guangming's destination today is Lin Shunan's newly moved-in Shikumen residence.

Yesterday afternoon, he had already gone to the loading and unloading team to greet Lin Shunan, and then specifically called Wu Hongtao to inform him. The three of them agreed to get together at Lin Shunan's house this morning.

On Sunday morning, the buses were just as crowded as they were on weekdays.

The train door slammed open, and Yang Guangming, relying on his youth and strength, struggled to squeeze into the carriage.

He gripped the cold metal handrail above his head tightly, as the vehicle bounced and swayed along the uneven road. Each sudden stop or turn elicited a small gasp and a collision.

The car windows were open, but the July wind was stingy, only bringing a slightly scorching breeze.

Outside the window is the street scene of Shanghai in July 69.

Bicycles are the absolute main attraction, forming a rushing river with their bells ringing incessantly, crisp and frequent.

The bulky buses moved slowly like giant beasts, while the few cars that appeared were like fleeting glimpses, silently revealing a certain unattainable status.

The loudspeakers played rousing revolutionary songs tirelessly, the melodies powerful and the lyrics brimming with fighting spirit.

This grand sound, intertwined strangely with the hustle and bustle of the city, the ringing of bicycle bells, and the faint cries of vendors in the distance, formed a unique and irreplaceable background sound of this era.

After a few stops of swaying and bumping, Yang Guangming got off the bus near his destination.

Instead of heading straight to the Shikumen alley where Lin Shunan lived, he turned and entered a quiet alley nearby filled with broken bricks, tiles, and discarded wood.

This place is like a forgotten corner of the city, rarely visited by people, with only wild grass growing tenaciously among the broken walls and ruins.

He looked around warily, his eyes scanning every corner where he might be hiding.

After confirming that no one was following him or watching him, he stood still in the heavy shadow cast by a half-collapsed wall.

He concentrated and held his breath, his consciousness instantly sinking into that strange space that only he could perceive.

The enormous refrigerator floated silently.

With a thought, four pounds of neatly bundled, snow-white dried rice noodles appeared in the refrigerated section;
Two pounds of plump, glossy walnut kernels;
A heavy pork knuckle weighing a good two pounds, tightly wrapped in thick oil paper but still oozing tempting reddish-brown oil stains;

And a plump roast goose, also wrapped in oiled paper, bulging and emitting a subtle, rich aroma of spices even through the paper—

It instantly appeared in the heavy, dark green nylon mesh bag in his hand.

The weight of the net bag suddenly dropped, and the aroma of the food seemed to break free from the confinement of the oil paper.

Yang Ming dared not delay. Carrying this heavy "gift," he quickly walked out of the alley and merged into the bustling crowd on the main road, heading towards Lin Shunan's new address—

We walked towards a typical one-bay Shikumen building hidden deep in the heart of the old city.

He stopped in the dense shade of a tall plane tree at the entrance of the alley. He was going to wait for Wu Hongtao there.

Not long after, Wu Hongtao was seen riding a slightly worn "Forever" brand 28-inch bicycle, rushing over in a hurry.

His forehead was glistening with sweat, and a neatly wrapped, square paper package made of old newspapers was hanging precariously from the handlebars.

"Light! Have you been waiting long enough?"

Wu Hongtao jumped off the car nimbly, braced himself on one foot, wiped the sweat from his brow, and flashed his signature, hearty, almost carefree smile, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth that were particularly striking in the sunlight.

"I just arrived a little while ago." Yang Guangming greeted him with a smile, his gaze naturally falling on the paper package on his handlebars. "What good stuff did you bring? It's wrapped up so carefully."

"Hey, it's worthless stuff!" Wu Hongtao waved his hand casually and untied the paper package. "My mom made these sweet rice cakes at home. I brought some for Shunan to try."

As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the overflowing, obviously heavy net bag in Yang Guangming's hand. His eyes widened instantly, and his voice rose eight octaves:
"My God! Guangming, you...you...have you emptied out the City God Temple grocery store, or what?"

He approached the net like a hunting dog, sniffed it deeply, and pointed incredulously at its contents.
"Rice noodles? Walnuts? This...this huge braised pork knuckle! And...good heavens, is that roast goose? The aroma! It smells so good you could faint through the paper! You're such a spendthrift! How much money and how many ration coupons did this cost?"

He counted on his fingers as if calculating an astronomical number, his tone filled with shock, regret for his friend's expense, and a hint of embarrassment at how inferior his gift was.

Seeing his exaggerated expression, Yang Guangming couldn't help but chuckle, but his tone remained relaxed and natural:

"The rice noodles and walnuts are for Shunan. It's not easy for him to cook for himself; these will keep him full and are easy to store. As for the braised pork knuckle and roast goose..."

He patted the bulging net bag, making a deep, enticing sound. "This is the main dish for the three of us at noon! Hongtao, mainly to thank you."

You've done a lot of errands for me lately. Since it's quiet here with Shunan, let's have a get-together and let him have a good meal too.

He paused, looking at Wu Hongtao's still shocked face, and said half-jokingly, "For our future class reunions, I think Shu Nan's place is pretty good. It's quiet and no one will be watching over us. I just hope he won't mind us being so noisy."

"This...this..." Wu Hongtao looked at the oily, deep brown, tempting pork knuckle and the roast goose wrapped in paper with a faint amber luster, his Adam's apple bobbed violently, and he swallowed hard.

His face was a complex mix of emotion—gratitude, remorse, and intense anticipation—"Alright, alright, Guangming, you've really been a good friend this time!"
"Then...what are we waiting for? Let's go in! Shu Nan must be getting impatient. If we wait any longer, my drool will soak my shirt!"

He exaggeratedly patted his deflated belly, which made Yang Guangming laugh again.

Arriving at the Shikumen gate, the two of them worked together to push open the heavy, black lacquered wooden door.

Accompanied by a long, aged groan, I stepped into the courtyard of the Shikumen.

The courtyard was small and rectangular, with a worn-down cement floor that revealed the gravel, bearing the marks of each family's life:
A neatly stacked pile of coal briquettes, resembling a black fortress;

Scattered among them were small pieces of firewood, enough to start a fire;
Enameled basins, plastic buckets, and earthenware pots of all sizes and for various purposes;
There were also clothes drying on bamboo poles, swaying slightly in the wind, emitting a faint scent of soap and sunshine.

Several neighbors who were busy at the tap stopped what they were doing when they heard the noise, looked up and curiously sized up the two young people who were carrying large bags and were obviously strangers.

An elderly woman with gray hair, wearing a faded blue work vest with neat patches on the shoulders, was tiptoeing, trying to hang a similarly faded men's shirt on a tall bamboo pole.

A man in his thirties, with a kind face and dark skin, was squatting on the ground, holding a wrench, dealing with an old bicycle with a rusty chain that looked like it might fall apart at any moment.

There was also a young wife holding a toddler who was just learning to speak. She looked up at the two of them with a timid and inquisitive look in her eyes.

"Excuse me, does Lin Shunan live here? He said he lives in the attic room."

Yang Guangming immediately put on a warm and polite smile, spoke in a clear voice, and took the initiative to ask questions, his gaze politely sweeping over the neighbors in the courtyard.

His upright posture and neat shirt stood out in the slightly messy courtyard.

"Oh, looking for Xiao Lin?" the old woman hanging clothes to dry replied in a thick Ningbo accent.

Her hands didn't stop moving, but her eyes kept glancing at the heavy, well-stocked net bag in Yang Guangming's hand. "He lives in a small room upstairs, just up the stairs."

She gestured toward the narrow, steep, almost vertical wooden staircase.

The kind-looking man who was repairing the car also stopped what he was doing and stood up.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his oil-stained hand, his gaze lingering on Yang Guangming with a worker's scrutiny and a hint of barely perceptible friendliness, especially on his neat shirt and composed demeanor: "You're from Shu Nan...?"

“We are Shunan’s classmates.” Yang Guangming’s smile remained unchanged, his attitude was generous and natural, and he appeared both humble and steady. “We are also colleagues. I work in the factory affairs office of Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill, and Shunan works in the loading and unloading team.”

He specifically pointed out the more practical relationship of "colleagues".

"Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill?"

The kind-looking man's eyes lit up, and his expression instantly became lively, revealing a sincere smile. "What a coincidence! I'm also a mechanic at the Red Star Factory. My name is Lu Jianmin."

He subconsciously rubbed his hands vigorously on his oil-stained work pants, seemingly wanting to stick them out, but then felt they were too dirty, and awkwardly rubbed his fingers together. "Are you from the factory administration office? Which department are you from?"

His tone was noticeably warmer and more friendly, reflecting the sense of identification he shared with his fellow factory workers.

Hello, Master Lu!

Yang Guangming immediately reached out and, without the slightest hesitation, firmly grasped Lu Jianmin's strong hand, which was stained with oil but had large, calloused knuckles. His attitude was both humble and composed.

"My name is Yang Guangming. I used to work in the secretariat, and now I am the full-time secretary to Deputy Factory Director Zhao Guodong."

His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears, carrying a calm strength.

"Factory Director Zhao's secretary!"

Lu Jianmin tightened his grip on Yang Guangming's hand noticeably, his smile freezing instantly, before transforming into a complex expression that mixed surprise, respect, and even a hint of awkwardness.

His voice suddenly rose eight octaves, filled with obvious respect, "Oh my! So it's Secretary Yang! My apologies! I was wondering why you looked so distinguished! Director Zhao is the backbone of our factory, he's decisive and efficient, we all admire him! Secretary Yang is young and promising, with a bright future ahead of him!" He shook his hand slightly before letting go somewhat embarrassedly, his face full of smiles.

The neighbors washing vegetables and hanging clothes nearby, though perhaps not fully aware of the specific significance of the position of "deputy factory director's full-time secretary" within the factory,
But seeing that even Master Lu, who was highly skilled, steady, and respected by his coworkers, treated this young man with such politeness and respect, even with a touch of deference, his gaze toward Yang Guangming immediately changed.

Curiosity turned into exploration, and exploration was mixed with a touch of awe.

The young woman holding her child whispered to her mother-in-law beside her, speaking in a Shanghai accent: "Oh my, is he a high-ranking official from the factory? Master Lu is so kind!"

Just then, the wooden door of the pavilion creaked open.

Lin Shunan was wearing a clean old shirt, and her hair seemed to have been carefully combed, but she looked obviously uneasy and stood at the door with a sense of helplessness.

He saw Yang Guangming and Wu Hongtao standing in the courtyard, as well as the neighbors watching. Especially when he saw Master Lu shaking hands and talking to Yang Guangming, a hint of nervousness and confusion flashed across his face. His lips moved, and he greeted them in a somewhat dry voice:
"Ming-ge, Hong-tao, you...you're here? Come on...come on up quickly."

He stepped aside to make way for the narrow doorway, his figure appearing somewhat frail.

"Shunan!" Yang Guangming greeted her loudly with a smile, his voice familiar and friendly. He then turned to the neighbors in the courtyard, his smile bright and his head slightly bowed in acknowledgment. "Master Lu, Grandma, Sister, you're busy, we'll go upstairs first. Sorry to bother you all!"

"No problem, no problem! Secretary Yang, you're too kind!" Lu Jianmin quickly waved his hand, his face beaming with a smile.

The other neighbors also smiled, and the old woman from Ningbo said repeatedly, "Little Lin has guests, what a wonderful thing!"

Yang Guangming and Wu Hongtao, carrying their belongings, followed Lin Shunan up the narrow, steep wooden stairs that creaked with every step, and into the low, dimly lit pavilion.

The pavilion-shaped room truly lives up to its name, as the space is exceptionally cramped.

After placing a narrow single bed, an old wooden crate that serves as a wardrobe, and a small square table, there is almost no room to turn around.

The ceiling was so low that it made you instinctively want to bend over.

But the room was exceptionally clean and tidy, and the blankets on the bed were folded into neat squares with sharp edges, like a piece of sliced ​​tofu.

Even the small half-window was polished to a shine, and through the dusty glass, you could see the mottled wall opposite.

On the table were several yellow and white steamed buns covered with damp gauze, a small dish of glossy black pickled cucumbers with a salty and fragrant aroma, and a bowl of blanched green vegetables that were bright green but obviously not very oily.

This was clearly a lunch that Lin Shunan had prepared in advance to entertain his classmates; it was so simple that it brought tears to one's eyes.

Lin Shunan looked at the paper package of rice cakes that Wu Hongtao had placed on the table, and then at the things that Yang Guangming was taking out one by one from the net bag—

Four pounds of snow-white rice noodles, two pounds of plump and glossy walnuts, a huge pork knuckle exuding a rich aroma of soy sauce and meat, and a succulent roast goose whose fragrance can't be contained even by oil paper...

His face flushed bright red instantly, all the way down to his ears.

He stood there helplessly, his hands unconsciously rubbing the faded hem of his clothes, his lips moving as if in a whisper:

“Ming-ge, Hongtao, this…this is too…too heavy. I…how can I take it…”

The heavy sentiment and the huge gap in material wealth weighed on his heart like a scorching boulder, making him feel deeply uneasy, fearful, and burdened, even ashamed.

Yang Guangming placed the last item—a heavy roast goose—on the only remaining space on the small square table, straightened up, dusted off non-existent dust from his hands, and looked at Lin Shunan, who was so embarrassed he almost shrank back. His tone was gentle but carried an undeniable firmness:
"Shunan, don't overthink it. The rice noodles and walnuts are for you; it's good for one person to cook, and they're easy to store. And this braised pork knuckle and roast goose..."

He gestured with his chin to the two glistening, fragrant main dishes on the table, "These are the main dishes for the three of us at noon!"

This is mainly to thank Hongtao for running around for me during this time and for all the hard work he's put in.

"It would be perfect to have a get-together here. We can't just show up empty-handed and expect to eat and drink for free, can we?"

He paused, then deliberately put on a serious face and joked, "What? You don't welcome us coming over for meals often? You find us annoying?"

Wu Hongtao quickly chimed in, his impatient nature prompting him to pat Lin Shunan's somewhat thin shoulder with a force that carried the warmth of brotherhood.

“That’s right! Shunan, Guangming’s offer is so heartfelt, it would be too much of a fuss if you refused! Look, I’ve brought a little something too, though it’s not as generous as Guangming’s.”

He pointed to the rice cake, then couldn't resist moving closer to the pork knuckle wrapped in oil paper, taking an exaggerated deep breath as if he wanted to inhale the aroma into his lungs.
"Tsk tsk tsk, it smells so good! This aroma is irresistible! My stomach is rumbling! Shunan, stop dawdling, I can't wait any longer!"

He smacked his lips, looking impatient.

Looking at the sincere smiles of her two old classmates, feeling the warmth of Wu Hongtao's pat on the shoulder, and then at the lavish food on the table that was almost blindingly delicious, Lin Shunan's eyes couldn't help but well up with tears.

He sniffed hard, forcibly suppressing the surging soreness, and finally raised his head, revealing an embarrassed yet incredibly genuine, somewhat relieved smile. His voice was also clearer:

"Welcome...of course you're welcome. It's just...my place is too simple, and the things aren't very good. I'm sorry to have to make do with this."

He looked around the cramped space, his tone apologetic.

"What do you mean by simple! As long as it's quiet!" Yang Guangming waved his hand and glanced at the small, well-organized space. He asked casually, "By the way, Shunan, you've been here for a while now. Are you familiar with the neighbors? I think Master Lu downstairs is quite friendly. He's also a senior mechanic from our factory."

Lin Shunan's smile faded slightly. She lowered her head, her gaze falling on her faded shoes. Her voice lowered again, carrying a habitual avoidance:

"It's...it's alright. When we come and go, we just nod and say hello...we haven't really spoken much."

He paused, then added, as if explaining or comforting himself, "Everyone... is quite busy." His words revealed a deliberate distance.

Yang Guangming and Wu Hongtao exchanged a glance. A look of understanding and helplessness appeared on Wu Hongtao's face.

Yang Guangming understood perfectly. Lin Shunan's inner conflict and deep-seated inferiority complex made him instinctively choose to shut himself off, avoid in-depth interactions with his neighbors, and perhaps even adopt an ostrich mentality of "not disturbing others, nor being disturbed by others."

"Shunan."

Yang Guangming pulled up a stool and sat down, leaning slightly forward. His tone became earnest and sincere, like that of a close older brother.

"As the old saying goes, a close neighbor is worse than a distant relative. We live in Shikumen houses, in the same doorway, we see each other all the time, our kitchens are next to each other, we share the same water taps, and the bamboo poles for drying clothes are all crisscrossed together. Look down here, how many families live here?"

He looked around the small courtyard.

Lin Shunan raised his head, thought for a moment, and replied, "Including me, five families."

The living room is where Master Lu and his family of six live.

The old lady from Ningbo who was hanging up clothes earlier lives in the building in front of us, along with her husband. Her son and daughter-in-law seem to live elsewhere.

The young couple who were holding the baby earlier live on the third floor. The man's surname seems to be Chen, and he works in a small factory on the street.

There's also the renovated kitchen, where a single elderly man surnamed Wang lives; he used to be a postman, I think.

He was quite clear about the composition of his neighborhood.

"Yes, five families, crammed into this one doorway."

Yang Guangming nodded, looking at Lin Shunan with a calm and profound gaze, "The space is only so big. Over time, it's inevitable that there will be some bumps and minor frictions."

For example, rushing to use the tap in the morning, whose toilet is emptying too slowly, whose spot is being taken up by hanging clothes to dry, or whose child is crying and disturbing the neighbors...

These are all trivial matters, but if you don't interact with people at all, over time, people will naturally think you are aloof, withdrawn, and unsociable.

What if one day there's a minor misunderstanding, or someone goesssips about you? Wouldn't it be incredibly passive to have no one to speak up for you or mediate? And…”

He emphasized, "Everyone has emergencies sometimes. For example, your clothes are torn and you need to borrow a needle and thread; you find the salt shaker is empty while cooking and want to borrow some salt; or you are called to work overtime at the factory and want to ask your neighbor to watch the door for a moment?"

If you try to knock on someone's door at that time and greet them with a smile, it will be difficult, and they may not be happy to accept it.

If you don't have a relationship with someone beforehand, trying to cram at the last minute is never very effective.

He looked at Lin Shunan's thoughtful yet somewhat bewildered face and continued to patiently guide her:
"I'm not asking you to fawn over anyone, nor am I asking you to be subservient. It's just that you have to maintain appearances and show proper etiquette."

Choose at least one or two that seem kind and easy to talk to, like Master Lu. He's a veteran worker in our factory, skilled, and looks steady and honest. We're also colleagues, so there's a natural extra layer of closeness.

When we meet, it's easy to nod and say "Good morning, Master Lu" or "Master Lu, are you off work?" and chat about factory matters or the weather. That's not difficult, is it?

During holidays or festivals, or like today, if you have a little extra, even just a handful of peanuts or a few pieces of candy, share a little with your neighbors. It's a small gift but a big sentiment.

It doesn't matter how much the gift is, it's the thought that counts. People will know that you're not a cold or heartless person, and they'll feel comfortable with that.

That way, you'll feel more at ease living here, and you won't feel isolated from everyone, like an outsider.

(End of this chapter)