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

Chapter 124, Section 123: A Cloud of Sorrow and Despair, Discussing Countermeasures

In the twilight of August, the lingering heat of summer, like a thick cloth soaked in hot water, heavily enveloped the alleyway.

As Yang Guangming dragged his slightly weary steps across the familiar black lacquered threshold of the Shikumen gate, his keen senses immediately picked up on the unusual atmosphere permeating the courtyard.

At this time of day in the past, it would have been the busiest time in Shikumen.

The pungent smell of coal smoke, the gurgling sound of water from the tap, and the rapid clanging of spatulas have long since interwoven into a chaotic yet vibrant symphony of everyday life.

But today, the kitchen doorway was deserted, and there was no one in front of the water tap.

An unnatural silence descended, so heavy that even the dripping of water from the gutters in the corners of the walls could be clearly heard.

On the damp, weathered bluestone slab in the center of the courtyard, the adults from four households had gathered together.

As dusk fell, their shadows stretched long, casting them onto the mottled gray wall, solidifying into a somber and anxious portrait.

Zhang Xiuying and Li Guihua, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, stood side by side.

At this moment, Zhang Xiuying's face was ashen, and her thin lips were pressed into a stiff line, as if she had used all her strength to suppress the anger that was about to erupt.

Her hands, accustomed to hard work and with large, calloused knuckles, were now twisting the hem of her clothes tightly.

Her daughter-in-law, Li Guihua, standing beside her, was as fiery as ever. Her hands were on her slightly plump waist, and her toes tapped impatiently on the bluestone slabs, making a soft clattering sound. Her round face was filled with undisguised anxiety and resentment.

Mrs. Feng, Lin Fengjiao, who moved into the kitchen after it was converted from a kitchen, hugged her slender arms and frowned deeply.

The faded yet neatly pressed floral short-sleeved shirt she wore perfectly complemented her intellectual temperament.

At this moment, the worry in her eyes was restrained, carrying a calm understanding of the world, but her tightly pursed lips betrayed the heaviness in her heart.

In the shadows of the corner, the taciturn Zhao Tiemin squatted, like a stone that had taken root.

He kept his head down, puffing on the cigarette butt that was almost burning his fingers, the smoke from the cheap tobacco swirling around his deeply lined face.

The tiny spark flickered in the dim light, like the unspoken, burning emotions in his heart. He huddled in the shadows, as if trying to isolate himself from the troubled world.

At the entrance to the living room, Granny Chen was being carefully supported by her eldest granddaughter-in-law, Zhang Chunfang.

The old man's hunched back was almost bent at a ninety-degree angle, and his cloudy eyes were filled with panic and deep fear, like two dried-up old wells.

Her thin, withered hands gripped her granddaughter-in-law Zhang Chunfang's strong arm tightly, as if it were her only support and pillar in this cramped space.

Zhang Chunfang's young face was also shrouded in worry. She supported the old woman while watching the movements in the courtyard.

Even He Caiyun, who usually lived a secluded and aloof life on the third floor, surprisingly came downstairs.

She leaned against the door frame, her thin body taut and straight, her long, thin eyebrows furrowed together, almost forming a knot.

Her narrow eyes, like sharpened knives, swept coldly over everyone in the courtyard, filled with wariness and suppressed anger. Her old, drab gray blouse looked even more so in the twilight.

With so many people gathered together, there was none of the usual casual conversation.

The air was heavy, like a thick cloth soaked with water, pressing down heavily on everyone's chest.

Resentment, worry, and helplessness—all these intense and suppressed emotions stretched taut across every face like invisible ropes.

The low murmurs buzzed like the irritating buzzing of bees before a summer thunderclap, swirling and colliding in the small courtyard.

Yang Guangming paused slightly, a hint of surprise flashing through his mind.

He walked calmly to his door and gently put down the grass-green military satchel.

He stood quietly, listening intently, his young yet composed face revealing little emotion.

"...Isn't this blatant bullying?"

Li Guihua's voice suddenly rose, carrying her usual sharp edge, like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, instantly breaking the oppressive buzzing:
“Last time the neighborhood committee tried to take over the kitchen and drying platform, we in the front building and the living room resisted! The neighborhood committee only renovated the kitchen; the drying platform was left untouched.”

This time, the district government actually issued a document? Rank matters!

She waved her arms excitedly, as if trying to dispel the suffocating sense of oppression, her sleeves rolled up to reveal her strong forearms.

“Exactly!” He Caiyun immediately chimed in, unusually joining forces with Li Guihua from the front building.

She suddenly stood up straight, pointed to the not-so-spacious drying platform above her head, and spoke in a shrill, urgent voice, like the whistling of a bamboo whistle:
"It's such a tiny place, and they want to squeeze another family in? Where are we supposed to put our clothes and blankets to dry?"
From now on, will we even have to squeeze through the aisles? Are we supposed to live like this?

She became more and more excited as she spoke, spittle flying in the dim light, her thin chest heaving violently.

Mrs. Feng's voice was relatively calm, but her worry was deeper, like an undercurrent slowly surging at the bottom of a well:

"The key is the public space. At least now there's a drying platform for drying clothes and ventilation, which provides some buffer."

Once the sun terrace is sealed off and converted into living quarters, only this courtyard will remain.

Four households, plus a new resident, will all be crammed into this place for eating, drinking, relieving themselves, washing, and drying.

Summer is like a giant steamer, making it hard to breathe; rainy days are like puddles, making them slippery and difficult to walk in.

How can we go on living like this?

She subconsciously looked back at the narrow, low door of her own house, which had been converted from the kitchen, and her brows furrowed even more.

As a "beneficiary" of the last renovation, she knows best the bitter taste of being squeezed out of space, and she also understands best what this renovation means for everyone—it means the further collapse of living space.

At the doorway of the living room, Granny Chen, leaning on her well-worn cane, sighed shakily, her voice dry and hoarse:
"Sigh... What a tragedy... Our house is already so cramped that there's barely any room to move around..."

Son, daughter-in-law, and grandson, like sardines stuffed into a can...

Another household came, it's so crowded... What a disaster..."

The old woman's voice was filled with a deep sense of powerlessness and sorrow, as if the cramped life had drained her of her last bit of vitality. Her withered hands gripped Zhang Chunfang, her nails almost digging into her granddaughter-in-law's flesh.

In the corner, Zhao Tiemin took a sullen puff of his cigarette butt. The sparks flashed briefly, illuminating his sorrowful face, before quickly fading away, leaving only a wisp of smoke.

He managed to squeeze out a muffled "hmm" from his nose, which was his way of acknowledging it.

Amidst the swirling smoke, his weathered face, etched with the hardships of life, appeared even more numb and sorrowful.

Zhang Xiuying remained silent, but her tightly pursed lips and ashen face silently spoke of her resolve.

The last time the neighborhood wanted to move the drying platform, she and the Chen family in the living room were the most vehement opponents.

Their two families were among the few private homeowners in this shikumen (stone gate) neighborhood, and the neighborhood committee, mindful of their opinions, ultimately did not take any action.

But this time, the document bore the district's red seal, and its heavy weight pressed down on her heart like a boulder, casting a lingering shadow over it.

Her straight back revealed a stubbornness that was pushing herself to the limit.

Yang Guangming understood.

In response to the district's call to "fully tap the potential of housing," the neighborhood is determined to completely renovate all the public spaces in the Shikumen houses that have not yet been converted into housing—mainly kitchens and drying balconies—in order to increase housing supply and alleviate the pervasive "housing shortage."

For this Shikumen family, the ultimate goal of this renovation is to transform the communal drying platform above their heads, which serves as a space for drying clothes, ventilation, and even some daily living functions.

Once the renovation is completed, not only will the public space be reduced to just a courtyard, but a fifth household will also have to be squeezed in.

This was like adding insult to injury for the four families who were already overcrowded, like sardines in a can, as their living space was cruelly squeezed and stripped away once again.

No wonder everyone is so united in their hatred of the enemy!
This is no longer a simple neighborhood dispute, but a matter of vital interest to every household. It is a real battle to defend our living space!
The complaints in the courtyard grew louder and louder, filled with anger, anxiety, and helplessness, churning like boiling water in the twilight.

Some people cursed the street for being unreasonable, their voices high-pitched and shrill; some lamented their miserable lives, their voices low and choked with sobs; some simply repeated blankly, "What to do? What to do?", their eyes empty and unfocused.

But these voices ultimately felt like punches to cotton; they were merely emotional outbursts without finding a clear point of leverage or a way out.

After the anger came a deeper anxiety and helplessness, like the gradually deepening twilight, which heavily enveloped the courtyard of the Shikumen, making it hard to breathe.

Looking at the familiar yet anxious faces before him—his mother's stubbornness, his sister-in-law's shrewishness, Mrs. Feng's worries, He Caiyun's sharp tongue, Granny Chen's sorrow, and Zhao Tiemin's numbness—he knew it was his turn to speak.

He cleared his throat; his voice wasn't loud, but it carried a calm strength rarely seen in young people, clearly piercing through the noise and landing in everyone's hearts.

"Everyone, be quiet."

The murmurs gradually subsided, like the receding tide.

All eyes, filled with anticipation, reliance, and even a hint of blind trust, instantly focused on Yang Guangming.

As the deputy factory director's secretary, coupled with his composure in daily life and his "ins and outs" in the factory, the young Yang Guangming naturally possessed a weight and voice beyond his years in this small Shikumen (stone gate) building.

In the eyes of these people who are struggling to breathe due to the pressures of life, he is now the only straw they can grasp.

"Everyone knows what happened."

Yang Guangming's gaze swept steadily over the crowd, like an experienced commander surveying the battlefield and analyzing the situation of both sides. "The pressure on the street to implement the district's policies must be immense."

But our firm opposition is perfectly justified; it's our right!

He paused, his tone firm, each word clear:

"The first step is to unite and be resolute! We must lay out the real difficulties we face clearly and completely in front of the street!"

With the sun terrace gone and only the courtyard remaining as the common space, how much will the living environment deteriorate from four households to five?
Safety issues – blocked fire exits, dense coal stoves, and the unimaginable consequences of a fire;

Sanitation problems – overflowing sewage, breeding mosquitoes and flies, and potential for infectious diseases; Neighborhood conflicts – disputes over space, constant arguments, and daily chaos…

All of these need to be laid out, one by one, and explained thoroughly!
We must make our point so they can't avoid it! The best outcome would be to withstand the pressure and get them to give up on reformation!

He saw a glimmer of hope ignite in everyone's eyes. Li Guihua nodded vigorously, a fierce glint flashed in He Caiyun's eyes, and his mother Zhang Xiuying's tightly pursed lips relaxed slightly.

But then, Yang Guangming's tone shifted abruptly, becoming more somber, like a cold stone thrown into a newly lit campfire:
"However, we should also be mentally prepared."

This is a unified plan by the district; it's a decision from 'above'.

The street authorities are merely enforcers; they can't fight city hall. What if…?

He deliberately emphasized the word "what if," his gaze sweeping across every face to make sure everyone heard the weighty possibility. "I mean, what if... we really can't hold on?"

The courtyard fell into a deathly silence.

Even Zhao Tiemin's smoking motion froze, and the cigarette ash fell silently onto the bluestone slab.

This heavy "what if" weighed on everyone's heart like a boulder that suddenly fell. The flame that had just been lit seemed to be extinguished instantly by this cold reality, leaving only a wisp of despair.

Grandma Chen gripped Zhang Chunfang's hand even tighter, letting out a suppressed sob.

"If we can't hold on, then we can only try to get the maximum compensation!"

Yang Guangming's voice suddenly rose a few decibels, breaking the deathly silence with an undeniable pragmatism and decisiveness.

"We can't let ourselves suffer losses and make life even harder! We need to let them know that if they take our territory, they have to give something in return!"

"Compensation?" He Caiyun's eyes lit up, like a drowning person grabbing onto a piece of driftwood. She immediately asked, her voice urgent, "What kind of compensation can I ask for? Money?"

Her eyes gleamed with a naked desire for cash, as if it could solve all her problems.

Yang Guangming decisively shook his head, shattering her unrealistic fantasies:
"Giving money directly is highly unlikely. The local government doesn't have that kind of financial authority."

What we need to fight for first and foremost are job openings!

He uttered those four words with such conviction, as if he had thrown out a spark of hope.

"Job openings?" Li Guihua and Zhang Xiuying exclaimed almost simultaneously, their voices filled with disbelief and shock.

In an era of extreme scarcity of resources and rationing, what did a formal job in a state-owned or collective enterprise mean?
It means a secure job!
This meant a fixed monthly distribution of grain coupons, oil coupons, and meat coupons, which meant a stable income and an unattainable level of dignity!
Its value far exceeds any monetary amount one can imagine.

This is a turning point that can change the fate of a family and even generations! It's a true "hard currency"!
Even Zhao Tiemin, who had been silent like a stone, suddenly raised his head, his cloudy eyes bursting with an unprecedented, fervent desire.

He stared intently at the sunlight, his eyes like a hungry wolf eyeing its prey. His legs, which had been squatting for too long, seemed to be going numb, and he instinctively braced himself with his hands on the ground.

"Yes!" Yang Guangming met the suddenly brightened gazes of the crowd, his tone resolute, as if he were painting a blueprint of hope.

"If we can secure a permanent job from the neighborhood committee, no matter which family it ends up with, it will be a tremendous boon for our entire Shikumen community, a real victory!"
It's hard currency that we traded for our squeezed space!

He's also added a pillar of support to the family!

He deliberately emphasized the weight of this hope.

This proposal was like a blazing spark, instantly igniting the almost extinguished flame in everyone's hearts.

Even the trembling Granny Chen was so excited that her lips quivered, and she gripped Zhang Chunfang's hand even tighter, her nails almost digging into her flesh.
“A job…a job is great! It’s fantastic! Our Chunfang is young, strong, and capable…if she could…”

Her cloudy eyes looked at her granddaughter-in-law with a hopeful light, as if she could see her granddaughter-in-law wearing work clothes.

Two blushes rose on Zhang Chunfang's cheeks, her heart raced, and her eyes were filled with longing.

However, Yang Guangming's next words were like a bucket of ice water, bringing a sobering reality that mercilessly poured over everyone's newly rising hopes:
"However, don't get your hopes up too high."

His voice regained its composure, even carrying a hint of helplessness, "The number of permanent positions in the hands of the street office is extremely limited; they are highly sought-after positions that many people would fight tooth and nail to obtain."

With far more monks than porridge, the competition was unimaginably fierce.

We managed to secure an extra spot for our Shikumen house due to renovations, which was extremely difficult.

Therefore, this is something we can only strive for, not rely on as our only hope, and certainly not because of it…

His sharp gaze swept over the crowd, preemptively warning them, "It'll damage neighborly relations! There's only one spot, so who will get it? Fighting for it will be more troublesome than the renovation itself!"

Hope, which had just risen, suddenly plummeted, like a punctured balloon, leaving everyone with a silent sigh.

A profound sense of disappointment was clearly etched on everyone's face.

The light in He Caiyun's eyes dimmed instantly, and she pouted; Li Guihua's excited slapping of her thigh froze in mid-air; and the hope in Grandma Chen's eyes was also shrouded in gloom.

Mrs. Feng, Lin Fengjiao, nodded slightly, clearly agreeing with Yang Guangming's clear-headed judgment.

"Then... what else could we want?" Mrs. Feng, Lin Fengjiao, was quite calm and quickly grasped the key point.

She knew that since Yang Guangming had offered "compensation," he must have a backup plan. She crossed her arms, leaned forward slightly, and waited for his answer.

"Tickets!"

Yang Guangming uttered those two words with unwavering conviction, his eyes shining brightly, as if pointing out another path in the darkness.

"This is more practical and easier to achieve!"
As the neighborhood pushes forward with this renovation, it will undoubtedly complain to higher authorities and request some compensation resources.

We remained firm and argued our case rationally. In order to complete their mission, they might soften their stance on the vouchers, using this to 'appease' us and shut us up!

He started counting on his fingers, analyzing things clearly and meticulously, as if reciting a familiar story, his demeanor much like that of a shrewd accountant in a factory:

"Tickets for the four major items—bicycles, sewing machines, watches, and radios—are the most valuable and hardest to obtain, with very few available."

We can set it as the ultimate goal, but we must also be clear in our minds not to have too high expectations.

The focus should be on the ration coupons for daily necessities!

His tone shifted to a more practical consideration: "The food subsidy coupons can help us buy a few more ounces of meat and eggs each month, giving the elderly and children some extra oil and fat. This is of utmost importance!"

Cloth coupons and wool coupons were used to buy clothes and bedding for adults and children in the family, so that they could stay warm in winter and not get sick from the cold.

Industrial coupons can be used to buy everyday necessities such as soap, toothpaste, thermos flasks, and enamel basins...

Securing even one more type of ticket, or a larger quota, is always a good thing! It will genuinely improve our lives! It's a tangible benefit!

With each statement he made, he would bend a finger, a gesture that carried an undeniable persuasive power.

His gaze shifted towards the living room, landing on Granny Chen and Zhang Chunfang, who was helping her. His tone softened.
"Especially in Grandma Chen's family, there are many people, and many of them are capable women."

We can also try to get more odd jobs on the streets each month.

For example, if we could secure a larger share of the quota for pasting matchboxes, it would provide some extra income for the aunts and sisters-in-law who are not currently employed, allowing them to supplement their household income and buy necessities like needles, thread, oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar. This would be a very practical form of compensation.

Little by little, it adds up to an income, a source of hope.

Yang Guangming's words were well-organized, practical, and insightful, like the sun breaking through the clouds.

His previously chaotic and confused thoughts were instantly sorted out into a clear outline and a workable path.

It turns out that opposition doesn't only have one path: standing firm. If you can't stand firm, you can still fight for your interests in this way!
Job openings are like distant stars, something you can only dream of; while ration coupons and odd jobs are the staple food you have, something that every household can benefit from, a lifeline in times of need.

The despair was replaced by a more practical and goal-oriented fighting spirit.

"She's definitely a secretary to a leader!"

Li Guihua was the first to slap her thigh hard, making a crisp sound. Her face was full of undisguised admiration and excitement, and her previous disappointment was washed away by new hope.

"You need to be quick-witted! This plan is crystal clear! There's a goal and a path! It's best if you can hold on tight, but even if you can't, you still need to squeeze some fat out of them!"

Her gaze toward Yang Guangming was full of approval, as if she had seen her pillar of support.

"Yes, yes!"

He Caiyun nodded repeatedly, her previous sharpness and dejection gone, and her gaze towards Yang Guangming became much more eager, even carrying a hint of ingratiation:
"Mingming is right! We can't just argue and get angry all the time; we need to know how to get real benefits!"

"Ration coupons are great! Get more meat and cloth coupons—they're practical! You can see and touch them! A hundred times better than empty talk!"

She could almost see the extra piece of cloth and a few ounces of meat, and life seemed to have a faint glimmer of light.

Zhang Xiuying's tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed a bit, and looking at her son, her eyes were filled with undisguised pride and peace of mind.

Her son had grown up, was capable of handling things, and was more thoughtful than her old-fashioned parents. The corners of her tightly pressed lips even curved slightly upwards.

Mrs. Feng, Lin Fengjiao, nodded slightly and commented rationally, "Mingming's analysis is thorough."

This approach demonstrates our stance—we will not yield an inch and we will uphold our bottom line—while also leaving room for maneuver, showing flexibility, and seeking to maximize our actual interests.

Having secured tangible benefits, the neighborhood committee was more likely to accept it, preventing a complete breakdown in relations and the possibility of running into each other again.

This is indeed a comprehensive, feasible, and wise approach.

She acknowledged the political wisdom and philosophy of survival contained within it.

(End of this chapter)