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

Chapter 150, 149. Open and frank, sincere advice: send away the second brother.
"It's rare for Second Brother to come all this way." Yang Guangming smiled, picked up a rice spoon, filled a large bowl with tightly packed white rice for Yang Guangyao, and handed it to him. "Try this braised pork knuckle. It's a cooked dish that a friend gave me. I just heated it up. It should taste alright."

Yang Guangyao stopped being polite, his plans temporarily overshadowed by the aroma of the food.

He picked up his chopsticks and eagerly grabbed a large piece of pork knuckle with skin and meat still attached, stuffing it into his mouth.

The fatty parts melt in your mouth, not greasy at all, and the rich meat juices burst in your mouth instantly. The lean parts are also stewed until tender and not dry, and the soy sauce flavor has completely permeated them.

He picked up another piece of drunken chicken. The chicken was extremely tender, with a refreshing aroma of wine and just the right amount of saltiness and umami, leaving a lingering aftertaste.

Paired with fluffy and soft scrambled eggs, and tangy, spicy, and crisp cabbage hearts that are incredibly refreshing, all served with fragrant white rice...

Yang Guangyao devoured the food in a flash, beads of sweat quickly forming on his forehead. He mumbled praises repeatedly, "Delicious! So fragrant! It's so much better than the bland food we had at the educated youth station! This taste... is amazing!"

Yang Guangming didn't eat much; he mainly stayed with his second brother, occasionally adding some food for him and putting the fattiest part of the pork knuckle into his bowl.

After the meal, Yang Guangyao was sweating profusely, completely satisfied. His stomach was full and warm, and he felt much more comfortable throughout his body. The worries of the past few days seemed to have been temporarily suppressed by this hearty meal.

After the meal, Yang Guangyao insisted on clearing away the dishes.

He stacked the empty plates and bowls, picked up the greasy bowl and dishes, and walked familiarly toward the water room.

There were fewer people in the water room than before.

He turned on the tap, dipped a loofah in baking soda, and carefully scrubbed each dish, then rinsed them with clean water. The icy tap water was still bone-chilling, but he didn't seem to care much.

After washing it clean, he wiped the eight-immortal table until it shone like a mirror, and even wiped the table legs.

Yang Guangming watched his second brother work silently, without offering any obstacles.

After Yang Guangyao finished wiping the table and sat down, he picked up the tea canister on the table—it was an ordinary tin can, but the tea inside was clearly not ordinary.

He took out a small pinch of dark brown tea leaves, put them into a white porcelain teapot, and poured in boiling water. The deep red tea soup quickly extracted and poured into two equally white porcelain cups. A mellow and rich aroma of tea, with a fruity and honey-like fragrance, immediately filled the small room.

This is a top-grade black tea that Yang Guangming keeps in his refrigerator. He usually drinks it himself and rarely takes it out to entertain guests, worried that people will notice something unusual.

Yang Guangyao picked up the teacup, blew away the rising steam, and carefully sipped. The warm tea slid down his throat, its flavor full and smooth, with a lingering sweetness and a comforting warmth.

He let out a long, comfortable sigh, as if expelling all the pent-up air from his chest. A silence lingered for a while, enveloped in the aroma of tea, before the sunlight on his face gradually turned serious.

He put down his teacup, his fingers unconsciously stroking the warm rim of the cup.

“Mingming,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful, “I won’t be staying at home for more than a few days this time. The day after tomorrow, early morning.”

He paused, as if gathering his courage, "There's something... Second brother wants to talk to you about, to tell you the truth."

Yang Guangming put down his teacup and looked at him calmly: "Second brother, you speak. I'm listening."

"It's still about... going back to the city."

Yang Guangyao took a deep breath, as if he had made a huge decision. "I know there's no policy right now. I went to the neighborhood office to ask, and the clerk explained it very clearly: there's no policy, no way out, and I can't see any hope at all. I... have given up."

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, carrying a resigned helplessness.

“But,” his voice suddenly rose a little, and his eyes became fervent, “the fact that there are no policies now doesn’t mean there never will! Policies are like the weather, they can change in an instant. Back in the Northeast, I’m completely cut off from information, like a deaf and blind person, I can’t hear anything, I know nothing. You’re different!”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on his knees, his gaze fixed intently on Yang Guangming. "You work in such a large factory, close to the leaders, you come into contact with many people, and they're all at high levels. You must be well-informed! You know a lot of people!"

He spoke faster, as if afraid of being interrupted, or as if he wanted to reveal all the long-suppressed desires he had been holding back:
"Brother wants to ask you to keep an eye out for me! Keep an eye out at all times! If, I mean if, there's any policy regarding returning to the city in the future, even if it's just a rumor, or... or if there are any other connections or methods, whether it involves spending money, finding connections, doing favors, running errands, or bribing officials..."

His voice carried an almost pleading urgency, "You absolutely must tell me immediately! Write a letter! Send a telegram! You must let me know no matter what!"

He took a breath, his eyes becoming even more earnest, even tinged with a hint of humility:
"Don't worry about the money! Just tell me how much you need, and I'll borrow it from home first! Consider it an obligation I owe them!"

"Later, if I ever manage to go back to the city and find a job, I will pay it back every single penny! I'll sell everything I own to do it! I, Yang Guangyao, keep my word!"

He paused, then added, his tone even more solemn: "I acknowledge the debts of gratitude! I acknowledge them clearly! I've written down in my little notebook who helped me and how much of a favor it took!"
"From now on, when I'm able to repay my debts, I will repay what I owe and repay what I'm owed, without hesitation! I will never default on my debts! I will never be a burden on my family or on you!"

He poured out all the words that had been bottled up inside him for so long, his chest heaving slightly, his eyes fixed intently on Yang Guangming. His gaze held a desperate urgency, an almost humble assurance, and a dependence that placed all his hopes on his younger brother.
"I know very well that right now in the family, you're the only one with the ability and connections to get in touch with things."

My hopes... no, they're all on you.

His voice trailed off at the last sentence, carrying a barely perceptible, almost choked plea, "Brother... I beg you, please keep an eye out for me. This is my only hope in the Northeast."

Yang Guangming listened quietly, watching his second brother's face flush slightly from excitement, pleading, and immense pressure, and looking into his bloodshot eyes filled with anxiety and anticipation.

He completely understood his second brother's feelings at that moment—the despair of being abandoned in a wasteland, and the desperate gamble of grasping at the last straw.

He didn't immediately respond, but instead picked up the teapot and refilled Yang Guangyao's half-empty teacup with boiling hot tea. The deep red tea poured into the cup, and steam rose.

"Second brother."

Yang Guangming put down the teapot, his tone calm and firm, carrying a comforting power, "You're being too polite. We're brothers, born of the same parents, blood relatives."

"You and your second sister are suffering so much in Northeast China, who at home isn't worried about you? Who can sleep soundly? How could I stand idly by and do nothing to help? Wouldn't that make me heartless?"

He looked into Yang Guangyao's eyes, his gaze open and sincere: "Don't worry. As long as there's a policy allowing you to return to the city, even if it's just a rumor, as long as it's within my power, I will do my best to help you find a solution."

Whether it's running errands to gather information or finding connections to smooth things over, I'll do what needs to be done. This isn't you begging me; it's something I want to do myself, and I'm willing to do it.

He paused, then steered the conversation toward a more practical level: "As for spending money, if it's not a large amount and your family can raise the funds, I'll contribute a little, and your parents will definitely be willing to use their savings to help out. They won't let you pay it back."

It's all for our children's sake. We're happy to spend the money on you, and I won't complain.

If the amount is too large and the family can't afford it all at once, then they can only borrow from relatives and friends, which will put a heavy burden on the family.

Regarding those external debts, if you're willing to personally shoulder a portion, that portion will be considered your personal debt, which you can repay gradually over time. With your suggestion, it's even less of a problem; at least I won't object.

We're family, connected by blood; there's no need to be so calculating or clear-cut. What's most important is being able to help in the present moment and get things done.

His tone became more sincere, "Don't take things too seriously, especially matters of human relationships."

If it's for my own family, for my brothers and sisters, then I'm willing to accept any favors I owe.

If you really feel bad about it, when you can come back in the future, take good care of your parents and let them enjoy their old age. That's better than anything else, and better than repaying any favor I owe you.

As they get older, what they long for most is for their children to be by their side, safe and sound.

Yang Guangming picked up his teacup, took a sip, and noticed that his second brother's tense muscles seemed to relax a little after his words, and the worry between his brows lessened. Only then did he continue speaking, his tone even more candid:

"Second brother, there's something I don't know if I should say, but I think I should tell you anyway."

"Go on," Yang Guangyao said, sitting up straight and looking at his younger brother intently, like a student waiting for a teacher's guidance.

"I know life in Northeast China is tough. It's freezing cold, the work is heavy, and you're thousands of miles from home. It's normal to feel frustrated and resentful. Everyone feels that way."

Yang Guangming's tone was calm, yet it carried a penetrating power: "But blaming heaven, earth, and fate only makes you feel worse, like you're soaking in bitter water, and it doesn't solve any real problems."

Life goes on, one day at a time; the sun won't stop rising just because someone is suffering.

Looking at Yang Guangyao's somewhat bewildered yet insightful eyes, he slowly said, "Since we can't change the environment for the time being, why not... try changing our mindset? Let's just consider it a great test that God is giving us brothers?"

The saying "No pain, no gain" is an old cliché, but it's not without reason.

Having endured the hardships of the Great Northern Wilderness, when you encounter any more obstacles in life, just think of the bitter cold of minus thirty or forty degrees Celsius, the endless furrows, and the exhaustion of pulling the plow, and you'll realize that the difficulties you face now are nothing.

Life is like the waters of the Huangpu River; there are always high tides and low tides, and there are always good times and bad times.

Suffering now may not mean it won't be sweet later.

Those who have never experienced hardship become arrogant after tasting a little sweetness; those who have experienced hardship truly appreciate even the smallest bit of sweetness that follows.

"Most importantly."

Yang Guangming emphasized, looking directly at his second brother, "Be patient, don't give up hope. Policies are like this today, they'll be different tomorrow, who can say for sure? It could be five or six years at most, or two or three years at least, and maybe things will turn around."

You need to be prepared. If an opportunity arises, make sure you can seize it!

In your spare time... don't throw away all your books. Flip through your junior and senior high school textbooks whenever you have a spare moment, keep up that cultural foundation. Your brain will rust if you don't use it.

besides……"

He paused, his tone becoming more serious, "Over there, whatever you do, don't rush into marriage and settling down. Also, tell my second sister this is what I said, and make sure she remembers it!"
Once you start a family, especially with children, it becomes incredibly difficult to make any moves. There are too many responsibilities, and policies won't allow it.

As long as the green hills remain, there's always hope. As long as people are still alive and their spirits are still high, returning to the city may not be an unattainable dream forever.

Yang Guangyao listened attentively. His younger brother's words, though lacking profound wisdom, were like a gentle, soothing spring, slowly irrigating his parched and nearly desperate heart.

There were no lofty sermons, no empty words of comfort, only empathetic understanding and practical, actionable advice and suggestions.

In particular, the phrase "it may not be a pipe dream" was like a tiny lamp suddenly lit in the deep darkness. Although it was weak, it made his almost dead heart beat again, giving rise to a glimmer of warmth and a faint hope.

"Mingming, you're right! You're absolutely right!"

Yang Guangyao nodded emphatically, a rare smile of excitement and determination appearing on his face, as if the gloom of the past few days had been somewhat dispelled.
"I'll listen to you, brother! I'll go back and find some books to read! I'll pick up what I learned before! I'll stay calm! I absolutely won't get married! I'll just wait!"

With your words and your keeping an eye on things at home for me, I feel much more at ease!

The knot in their hearts seemed to have been untied, and the atmosphere became more relaxed.

The two brothers got along very well as they talked about the possible direction of the policy on returning to the city, the specific details of life in Northeast China, and the situation of their parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law.

Yang Guangyao seemed to have opened a long-sealed floodgate, pouring out everything without reservation: the coldness of human nature he felt when he was turned away at the neighborhood office, his fear and confusion about the bleak future, and his gratitude and guilt towards his family for going to such lengths to help him. Yang Guangming listened patiently, nodding occasionally, offering brief words of advice, and sharing some unreserved anecdotes and personnel changes from the factory.

The sky outside the window, amidst this heartfelt conversation about everyday matters, gradually changed from a bright afternoon to a dusky twilight, and was finally replaced by a deep indigo.

As the last rays of the setting sun disappeared completely below the horizon, the room grew dim. Yang Guangming turned on the 30-watt incandescent bulb hanging above the octagonal table, and the dim yellow light filled the small room. Yang Guangming suddenly realized how quickly time had passed.

"Oh dear! We were chatting so much we forgot the time!" He quickly stood up, a little apologetic. "I have to go back now, or Mom will get worried. It's dark and the roads are difficult to walk on."

"Okay, be careful on the road, it's dark in the alley." Yang Guangming also stood up and saw him to the door.

"Mingming, thank you for today."

Standing under the dim light at the door, Yang Guangyao looked at his younger brother's face, which appeared particularly calm and reliable in the halo of light. A complex and indescribable tide surged in his heart. There was gratitude, envy, and sorrow of parting, but more than anything, there was the hope that had been rekindled by their conversation earlier, a hope that carried a sense of security.

He patted Yang Guangming's shoulder forcefully, the force conveying his trust and entrustment, "Remember what your second brother said! Your second brother is in the Northeast, waiting for your letter!"

"Don't worry, Second Brother." Yang Guangming nodded, his tone steady.

Watching her second brother's figure disappear into the dimly lit corner of the cluttered stairwell, the footsteps gradually faded away, and Yang Guangming gently closed the door.

The room still held the lingering aroma of black tea, and the heavy weight of the brothers' entrustment of the future and responsibilities, silently permeating the air.

……

For the next two days, the small kitchen and partitioned rooms of Yangjia Shikumen were filled with the busy atmosphere of preparing for Yang Guangyao's return journey.

Zhang Xiuying carefully wrapped the 76 jin of nationally valid grain coupons that her family had saved up for a long time and worked hard to obtain, along with 120 yuan in cash, in several layers of thick, moisture-proof oil paper.

Then, she put on her reading glasses and, stitch by stitch, carefully sewed this precious "hard currency" into a specially made small pocket on the inside of Yang Guangyao's old sweater.

The two heavy packages were also packed.

Inside were two old cotton quilts that had been disassembled, washed, refurbished, and re-fluffed. Although the quilt covers were washed white, they were thick and warm. There were also two old cotton-padded jackets and trousers that had been disassembled, washed, and padded with thick cotton. And two pairs of brand-new cotton shoes with thick soles that Li Guihua had worked several nights to make.

These are life-saving items to withstand the harsh cold of Northeast China. The packages are tightly bound with thick hemp rope.

The family also prepared a large bag of provisions for the journey: a dozen boiled tea eggs wrapped in old newspapers; a large stack of pan-fried sesame seed cakes, golden brown on both sides; two jars of homemade pickled vegetables and pickled mustard greens; and a bag of fragrant fried tea oil noodles...

These things filled Yang Guangyao's large, slightly faded canvas travel bag to its fullest extent.

Yang Guangming also prepared something separately.

He brought two bottles of honey, a rare and nutritious product at the time; two pounds of White Rabbit milk candy wrapped tightly in colorful candy wrappers; two large glass jars of simply packaged milk powder; and two large bags of butter cookies printed with simple patterns.

There were also two jin of brown sugar specially given to my second sister, Yang Xiangmei, all wrapped in thick kraft paper.

Finally, a large package, wrapped tightly in layers of oil paper to prevent odors and oil stains from seeping out, was stuffed into Yang Guangyao's hands: "Second Brother, eat this on the road, it'll keep you full. It contains a drunken chicken and two pounds of braised beef."

Yang Guangming has the ability to give more, but there are also strict regulations regarding carrying supplies by train.

First, bringing raw grains, such as rice and wheat flour, is not allowed. This regulation is strictly enforced!

Secondly, the food carried on the road should, in principle, only be enough to meet the needs of the journey and should not exceed that amount.

Third, there are also requirements regarding the total weight of the luggage carried.

Of course, some regulations may not be strictly enforced, but they cannot be exceeded too much, otherwise you may be made an example of.

Looking at the "small mountain" of mountain produce piled up on the octagonal table and the ground, far exceeding the pitiful amount he had brought back, Yang Guangyao's eyes instantly reddened, and his throat felt as if something was tightly blocking it.

He moved his lips a few times, wanting to say something to express his gratitude, but found that any words seemed pale and powerless at this moment.

In the end, he simply patted his younger brother's arm hard, his voice choked with emotion and carrying a heavy promise: "Mingming... you've gone to so much trouble. So many good things... Second brother... will remember them all!"

On Monday evening, Yang Guangming returned to his Shikumen home to stay.

Yang Guangyao is leaving tomorrow, and Yang Xianglan and her family of three made a special trip over to have their last family reunion dinner with Yang Guangyao present.

Tuesday.

The sky was still dark, with the morning star hanging lonely on the horizon, and the alleyway was completely silent.

The small lamp in the Yang family's kitchen was lit early on, and shadows moved about in the dim light.

The whole family got up.

The cold air was filled with moisture and the smell of food. A large pot of porridge sat on the coal stove, bubbling away.

Zhang Xiuying scooped a bowl of pickled vegetables from the jar, and the family sat around the small square table, eating their simple farewell breakfast in silence and quickly. The atmosphere was somewhat somber.

After quickly finishing her meal, Zhang Xiuying forced two freshly boiled, still-hot eggs into Yang Guangyao's hands: "Take these, have some if you get hungry on the way..." Before she could finish speaking, her eyes reddened again, and her voice trembled.

"I understand. Mom, Dad, don't worry." Yang Guangyao's voice was a little hoarse.

He slung the huge gray canvas travel bag over his shoulder, and the bag immediately slumped down heavily.

He picked up the equally heavy homespun cloth bag. A bulging net bag full of dry rations slung over his shoulder. His older brother, Yang Guanghui, silently walked over and helped him lift the largest bundle containing bedding.

"Come on, I'll take you." Yang Guangming pushed the brand-new "Forever" brand old-fashioned bicycle.

The two heaviest packages were securely tied to the back rack with thick hemp rope. Yang Guangyao hung the travel bag and the homespun cloth bag on either side of the handlebars. Then, leaning to one side, he carefully sat on the back seat, trying to maintain his balance.

"I'm leaving!" Yang Guangming said goodbye to his parents and older brother who were standing at the door.

With a push of his foot, he steadily rode the bicycle out of the narrow alleyway, the wheels rolling over the bluestone pavement and merging into the quiet, cold street before dawn.

Zhang Xiuying couldn't help but chase after the bicycle to the alley entrance, leaning against the cold brick wall until it completely disappeared around the corner and could no longer be seen. Only then was she helped by Li Guihua, wiping away her tears as she slowly walked back.

The sky changed from deep black to a hazy, crab-shell blue.

The streetlights still shone with a dim yellow light, spreading out in circles of light in the chilly morning mist.

There were few pedestrians on the road, only sanitation workers wielding large brooms, making a swishing sound.

The two brothers didn't say much; only the rustling of the wheels rolling over the road and the rhythmic clicking of the chain were particularly clear in the quiet morning.

The chill of a late autumn morning is like fine needles, piercing through clothing, while the bright sunlight makes me wrap my cotton-padded coat tighter.

Looking at his younger brother's broad, straight back and the faded yet still impeccably pressed Zhongshan suit he was wearing, he felt a mix of emotions swirling within him.

Envy, gratitude, sorrow of parting, uncertainty about the future, and a faint glimmer of hope ignited by his younger brother... all sorts of emotions intertwined and surged within him.

Train stations are always the most bustling vortex in Shanghai.

Under the enormous dome, the air was filled with a cacophony of voices: dialects from all over the country, the clear yet repetitive announcements from the loudspeakers, the grating noise of luggage carts rolling over the terrazzo floor, the crying of children, and the shouts of adults, all blending together into a massive and continuous wave of sound that assaulted the eardrums.

Yang Guangming skillfully pushed the bicycle to the parking area, paid, and received a small wooden tag. Then he helped Yang Guangyao remove the travel bag, handbag, and net bag hanging on the handlebars.

The two carried their heavy luggage all the way to the entrance of the station.

"Just drop us off here. It's too crowded inside, you can't fit your car in."

Yang Guangyao took his travel bag and tote bag, then slung the mesh bag over his shoulder even higher. He had to carry the two heaviest packages on the back rack himself.

Yang Guangming glanced at him, who was almost completely hidden by his luggage, and nodded.

“Okay. Second brother, have a safe journey. Take good care of yourself when you get there. Don’t worry about things at home.” He emphasized, “Just mention the things that are inconvenient to say in detail in the letter, and I will keep them in mind.” He was referring to the sensitive topic of news about returning to the city.

"Mmm!" Yang Guangyao nodded heavily, his throat tightening again. He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the rising bitterness, his voice hoarse with a forced ease, "Mingming, the family... Mom and Dad, we're counting on you! Second brother... is leaving!"

He turned around and awkwardly adjusted the weight on his body.

First, I laboriously slipped the canvas travel bag onto my shoulder, the bag weighing heavily on my back. Then, I lifted the heavy homespun cloth tote bag with one hand. With my other arm, I struggled to sling a mesh bag full of food over my shoulder, the rope of the bag digging into my cotton-padded coat.

Then, he bent down and used his shoulder to lift the largest bundle of bedding on the back rack, his body noticeably sinking under the weight.

I was instantly overwhelmed by luggage of all shapes and sizes, like a moving, swaying mountain of bundles.

He straightened his bent back, stiffened his neck, and took somewhat unsteady but unusually firm steps toward the surging, noisy, and crowded flow of people at the entrance of the station.

Yang Guangming stood still, not leaving immediately.

Through the throng of people, his gaze followed the figure whose back was bent under the weight of heavy luggage, like a camel carrying a burden, yet who stubbornly straightened his neck and moved forward step by step.

Against the backdrop of the massive, bustling station and the surging crowd, that figure appeared so small and so lonely.

He watched as that figure slowly but surely merged into the bustling crowd of people coming and going, swept along, until it finally disappeared completely from sight at the dimly lit bend around the ticket gate, a bend that seemed to swallow everything.

Over the station's public address system, a clear, resonant female voice announced train information without any emotion. Beneath a tall, round clock, a massive pendulum swung rhythmically, its hands pointing precisely to 6:40.

He turned around, no longer looking towards the bustling platform, and walked straight to the bicycle parking area. He took out the small wooden tag and exchanged it for his bicycle.

He straightened the car, straddled the cold leather seat, and with a push of his foot, the wheels started turning, and he drove away from this perpetually noisy square filled with farewells and reunions.

The early winter wind blew towards him with a biting chill, ruffling his clothes and bringing with it a touch of the crisp, cool air of the morning.

P.S.: There will be one more chapter today.

(End of this chapter)