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

Chapter 182, Section 181: Family Worries. Arrival in the Northeast. Second Sister Sheds Tears.
Zhang Xiuying, however, paid no attention to her eldest daughter-in-law's little schemes. She didn't even bother to cook or eat, and immediately began frantically rummaging through drawers and cupboards.

She found a huge, faded military canvas satchel and began stuffing things into it.

The remaining half-pound of White Rabbit milk candy was wrapped in several layers of oil paper; two glass jars of fruit, one of oranges and one of yellow peaches, were carefully wrapped in old clothes; a small bag of biscuits was wrapped in a clean handkerchief; several pairs of brand-new, tightly stitched insoles; two pairs of thick woolen gloves with a styling technique; a small bag of salt-roasted almonds that I usually couldn't bear to eat...

"These are for Xiangmei. Young ladies love snacks, and you definitely can't buy such good ones over there."

"Hey Yaoyao... how about bringing him a good pack of cigarettes? To help him relax. I saw that pack of 'Da Qianmen' cigarettes your dad hid a long time ago..."

Zhang Xiuying muttered to herself, running around in circles, wishing she could stuff the whole house into that handbag.

Yang Yongkang and Yang Guanghui, who had just returned from get off work, exchanged a glance without saying a word, but their faces were filled with smiles.

Yang Yongkang squatted on the door threshold, silently rolling a cigarette. The sound of the match being struck was particularly clear, and a smile could be seen on his face through the swirling smoke.

Yang Guanghui put down his heavy tool bag and silently helped put away the clothes and miscellaneous items his mother had scattered.

The atmosphere at the dinner table was very cheerful.

Because of her joy and busyness, Zhang Xiuying became much more talkative, constantly talking about what she wanted to bring for Guangming, what she should pay attention to in keeping warm when she arrived in Northeast China, what she should say to Yaoyao and Xiangmei, and whether they had gained or lost weight, and whether their blankets were thick enough...

Li Guihua occasionally chimed in with comments like "You should wear more clothes" and "It's cold in the Northeast," but her eyes kept glancing at the increasingly bulging canvas bag on the stool, calculating its value.

Yang Yongkang and Yang Guanghui ate their meal heartily, both in high spirits, the sound of them shoveling rice into their mouths particularly loud.

Finally, when everyone had almost finished eating, Yang Guangming put down his chopsticks, picked up a towel to wipe his mouth, and then cleared his throat.

The table fell silent immediately, and everyone looked at him.

Seeing his serious and somber expression, Zhang Xiuying's smile froze. She was still holding half a steamed bun in her hand, realizing that her son might have something more important and worse to say.

"Father, Mother, Eldest Brother, Sister-in-law." His gaze swept over his family, his voice becoming steady and tinged with a hint of heaviness, "There is something about my second brother that I need to tell you all."

The table fell silent.

Zhang Xiuying dropped the half-eaten steamed bun in her hand onto the table, staring blankly at her son.

"My second sister called the factory this afternoon and found me." Yang Guangming spoke calmly, but the content was like a boulder thrown into a calm pond, stirring up a thousand waves. "My second brother had an accident. He fell down the hillside over there and was injured. He is now hospitalized in the county hospital."

"Ah!" Zhang Xiuying suddenly stood up, her face instantly turning deathly pale, her voice sharp and trembling, "Yaoyao? You fell? How serious is it? Where are you hurt? Ah? Say something!" Her body began to shake.

Yang Yongkang suddenly raised his head, his eyes fixed on his youngest son. Yang Guanghui also put down his bowl, his brows furrowed tightly. Li Guihua covered her mouth in surprise, her eyes wide open.

"My second sister said," Yang Guangming tried to keep his voice steady, "that my second brother has multiple bruises and a fractured shinbone, and he's already in a cast. The doctor said it's not serious, and he's fine now, but it takes a hundred days to recover from a broken bone, so he has to take good care of himself." He first put on a positive note to calm his family's almost collapsing emotions.

He couldn't keep the matter completely from his family. If the situation in Northeast China worsened during his trip, his second sister might call back.

Family members, unaware of the situation, will only become more worried.

Zhang Xiuying clutched her chest, tears streaming down her face like a broken string of pearls. Her legs gave way, and she slumped back onto the stool, sobbing, "What a tragedy... how could I have fallen like that... does it hurt... is my bone broken... my son..."

“But things aren’t that simple,” Yang Guangming continued, his tone becoming serious, drowning out his mother’s sobs. “My second brother said he didn’t fall on his own; he was deliberately pushed down by a fellow educated youth in the same dormitory named Li Dongliang.”

Upon hearing this, even Yang Yongkang, who had been silent all along, gasped sharply, nearly dropping his cigarette.

Yang Guanghui slammed his fist on the table with a "bang," making the bowls and chopsticks bounce. His face was full of shock and suppressed anger.

"Did you push him on purpose? Why? What right did you have to push him?" Yang Guanghui roared, the veins on his neck bulging.

"Second Brother refused to explain the reason in detail. The other party, Li Dongliang, completely denied it, saying that Second Brother had accidentally fallen and that Second Brother was framing him."

The two sides are arguing fiercely, each sticking to their own story. The second brother wanted to report the case, but the captain temporarily suppressed it, saying he would investigate.

My second sister was alone there, unfamiliar with the area, and couldn't handle the situation. She was terrified and that's when she called for help.

Yang Guangming laid out the whole situation without concealing anything.

The room was deathly silent, save for Zhang Xiuying's suppressed, intermittent sobs.

The slight joy I felt earlier from "visiting relatives on a business trip" vanished, replaced by heavy worry, anger, and a sense of powerlessness. How could I not be worried when my loved ones, thousands of miles away, were not only injured but also embroiled in a terrible dispute?
"You son of a bitch! How could there be such a wicked person! How dare you push someone! You're trying to kill me! You deserve to die a horrible death!"

Zhang Xiuying slammed her hand on the table again, both angry and anxious, crying and cursing, "My Yaoyao... so far away, all alone... being bullied... crying out to heaven and earth without anyone to hear... what am I going to do..." She cried so hard she could barely breathe.

"Mom, don't worry, don't cry yourself sick." Yang Guangming stood up and pressed his mother's trembling shoulders. "I've already made all the arrangements. The factory has approved my business trip to Harbin, which will be perfect for handling this matter. I'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."

He looked at his father, who had been silently smoking and whose face was ashen, and his elder brother, whose face was full of anger: "Someone needs to go to the house, and I'm the most suitable person to go."

Don't worry, I will handle this matter well.

We will ensure my second brother receives the best treatment and we will get to the bottom of this matter. We will not compromise on what is right; we will do whatever is necessary.

Yang Yongkang remained silent for a long time, the cigarette in his hand almost burning his fingers, before he suddenly stubbed it out at his feet, letting out a heavy sigh, his voice hoarse and dry:
“Go. When you get there… observe more, listen more, speak less, don’t rush to conclusions, and don’t… don’t be too impulsive. Be careful in everything you do. Don’t worry about home.”

This is a father's support, and also a weighty admonition.

Yang Guanghui nodded, his fist still clenched: "Little brother, don't worry about home... Do you need me to ask for leave to come with you?"

He knew he was bad with words and might not be of much help in handling such complicated matters, and might even make things worse, but he still asked the question, as it was his responsibility and duty as the eldest brother.

"No need, brother. You stay home to take care of Mom, Dad, and Zhuangzhuang. I can handle it." Yang Guangming's tone was firm, his eyes steady, giving people a sense of reliable trust.

Li Guihua then realized what was happening and quickly reassured him, "Yes, yes, I'm capable and know a lot of people, I'll definitely handle it. Yaoyao will be fine, they're just talking nonsense, the brigade leaders will definitely investigate. We've got your family here, don't worry."

However, there was a hint of worry in her eyes about having to spend money again and possibly getting into even bigger trouble.

That night, the atmosphere at the Yang family's home was exceptionally oppressive and heavy, as if weighed down by a large stone.

Zhang Xiuying cried and stopped, then cried again. She was worried about her son's injuries, cursing the educated youth who pushed him, and feeling sorry for her youngest son who had to travel thousands of miles to that harsh and cold place to deal with this mess. She kept rambling on about how Yaoyao had suffered and how Guangming had been burdened.

Yang Yongkang had almost finished smoking the cigarettes in the pack. His brows were furrowed as he paced back and forth in the small room, occasionally stopping to sigh as he looked out the window at the dark night sky.

Yang Guanghui silently found a whetstone and began sharpening the kitchen knife and axe in the house, as if trying to grind all his anger and helplessness into the sharpening sound.

Li Guihua silently cleared away the dishes and coaxed Zhuangzhuang, who was frightened, to sleep. Her usual shrewdness and calculation were gone, replaced by a genuine look of worry.

Yang Guangming calmly packed his luggage, carefully tying up the huge, fully stuffed canvas shoulder bag his mother had prepared and placing it together with his travel bag.

He carefully checked the train tickets, money, food coupons, letters of introduction, and other important items, putting them all into the refrigerator to ensure everything was safe.

His calmness contrasted sharply with his family's anxiety, as if he were not a party involved, but rather an observer dealing with the problem.

The next morning, before dawn, the alley was quiet, with only a few faint barks coming from afar.

With red and swollen eyes, Zhang Xiuying had barely slept all night. She got up early, cooked some cold rice on a coal stove, and boiled six eggs for Yang Guangming, wrapped them in a cloth, and told him to eat them on his journey.

The family sat silently around the table, eating a simple breakfast, but they couldn't taste anything.

After finishing his meal, Yang Guanghui silently pushed his bicycle and securely fastened the two heavy travel bags and the huge shoulder bag to the side of the rear rack.

"Let's go, I'll take you to the station." Yang Guanghui's voice was somewhat muffled and hoarse, clearly indicating that he hadn't slept well all night.

Yang Guangming put on his slightly worn blue Zhongshan suit jacket and said to his parents, "Dad, Mom, I'm leaving. Don't worry, I'll call the factory as soon as I get there to let them know I'm safe."

Zhang Xiuying couldn't help but wipe away her tears again, grasping her son's hand, her cold fingers trembling slightly: "Mingming, be careful on the road! Keep your money and tickets safe, don't let anyone steal them! Call as soon as you get there! When you see your second brother, speak nicely... don't scold him... ask him clearly... whatever you do, don't get into a fight... come back safe and sound..." She repeatedly gave her instructions, her words incoherent. "I know, Mom. You should go back inside, it's cold outside." Yang Guangming patted the back of his mother's hand.

He glanced at his father again, and Yang Yongkang nodded heavily at him, a thousand words contained in that one look.

The two brothers walked out of the Shikumen gate one after the other. Yang Guanghui pushed the bicycle, which was so heavy that it was almost impossible to control, while Yang Guangming followed beside him, carrying a small net bag containing toiletries and a few boiled eggs.

A cool morning breeze swept through the narrow alleyways, carrying a refreshing chill and stirring up a few fallen leaves. Few pedestrians were on the road, except for a few elderly people emptying chamber pots early in the morning.

They walked in silence, the only sounds being the slight friction of the bicycle wheels and the heavy footsteps of the two brothers.

Upon arriving at the train station, the bustling crowd created a stark contrast to the quiet alleyway.

Passengers carrying large and small bags anxiously inquired with the train staff. Various dialects, shouts, cries, and scoldings mingled together. The air was filled with the smells of sweat, smoke, and food, reflecting the hurried farewells and the hardships of life at the bottom of society.

Yang Guanghui helped his younger brother unload the luggage from the car. Looking at the huge weight, he asked worriedly, "With so much stuff, it must be hard to carry on the road, right? Getting on and off the bus will be difficult."

“It’s okay, brother, I can carry it. It’ll be easier once we’re on the bus.” Yang Guangming tried to put the large travel bag on his back and tighten it with the straps, while holding the smaller one in his hand and the huge shoulder bag across his shoulder. He also had to carry a net bag in his other hand.

He was almost completely submerged in luggage, his back was bent slightly, and he looked very disheveled and exhausted, but his eyes were firm and steady as he looked at his older brother through the gaps in the luggage.

"Big brother, you should go back now. Be careful riding your bike on the road," Yang Guangming said to his brother, his voice half-drowsy from the surrounding noise.

Yang Guanghui opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something to comfort or encourage him, but in the end he just awkwardly reached out and patted his younger brother's shoulder, which was being squeezed by the backpack strap: "Yeah. We're here... Be smart. When something happens... Think it over. Don't worry about home." A few dry words, but they contained all the brotherly affection and concern.

The two brothers exchanged a glance, a thousand words unspoken in that brief but profound exchange of eyes.

Yang Guangming nodded, turned around, took a deep breath of the polluted and cold air of the train station, and, carrying his heavy luggage, like a snail burdened with a heavy load, struggled step by step to merge into the crowd surging towards the entrance.

His figure appeared very tall in the crowd, though he was slightly hunched by the heavy luggage and his steps were somewhat unsteady due to the weight, but steady and powerful. Step by step, he moved forward with a clear and determined goal, and was soon swallowed up by the bustling crowd.

Yang Guanghui stood there watching, tiptoeing, trying to catch a glimpse of that familiar figure in the crowd. Only when his younger brother's figure completely disappeared around the corner of the ticket gate and could no longer be seen did he silently push his bicycle and slowly walk back step by step, his back looking somewhat lonely and worried.

The hustle and bustle and lights of the train station were shut out behind us.

Yang Guangming took out his ticket, struggled through the ticket gate, and then followed the flow of people through the long, dimly lit passage to the platform.

The green train stretched like a giant dragon along the tracks, with each carriage door crowded with people eager to board.

He found his carriage and seat, a window seat in a three-seater hard-seat section. With great effort, amidst the help and complaints of the surrounding passengers, he managed to stuff his heavy luggage under the seat and onto the overhead luggage rack. This simple task left him drenched in sweat and panting heavily.

The carriage was filled with a strong smell of smoke, sweat, foot odor, cheap tobacco, and various other indescribable smells. This complex mixture of odors was almost suffocating.

Passengers chatted loudly, complaining about how crowded it was. Children were crying, and the train conductor struggled to push a vending cart through the congested aisle, constantly calling out, "Excuse me, please make way."

After settling into his seat, Yang Guangming let out a long sigh, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulders from the tight chair. He leaned back against the hard, slightly greasy chair, closed his eyes, and tried to shut out the surrounding noise.

Experiencing a long-distance green train journey for the first time in this era, and in a hard seat the whole way, he truly felt unprecedented physical pressure and environmental challenges.

With a long whistle, the train slowly started moving, and the platform and the crowd seeing them off gradually moved backward and accelerated until they disappeared from sight.

As the familiar cityscape outside the window—gray factories, dense alleyway roofs, and fluttering slogans—gradually gave way to open farmland, scattered villages, and winding rivers, Yang Guangming's heart gradually calmed down.

He knew that this would be a long and arduous journey, a great test of not only physical strength and endurance, but also a comprehensive challenge to his adaptability.

He closed his eyes again and began to carefully consider the possible situations his second brother might encounter, analyzing various possibilities and how to investigate, communicate, and handle the situation step by step once he arrived.

He mentally rehearsed all the people and things he might encounter, and the possible coping strategies.

The wheels struck the seams of the rails, producing a monotonous and rhythmic clanging sound, accompanied by the incessant swaying of the carriage.

Like a behemoth of this era, the train, panting, resolutely carried him, burdened with worries and family responsibilities, northward toward the distant, cold, and uncertain northeast.

After a long, almost numbingly bumpy ride and transfer, when the announcement "Harbin Station has arrived" finally came over the loudspeaker, spoken in a thick Northeastern accent, Yang Guangming felt as if his body was about to fall apart, as if every joint had rusted.

His legs were stiff from being curled up for a long time and lack of activity, like two wooden sticks; his back ached terribly, as if it had been run over by a heavy object; the stale air in the carriage made his head throb, his eyelids heavy, and his mouth dry and bitter.

He struggled to carry his luggage, slowly moving down the train carriage along with the weary and anxious crowd.

The cold autumn wind in Northeast China was like countless icy needles, rushing towards him and instantly piercing through his not-so-thick clothes, making him shiver and get goosebumps all over his body. But it was also like a shot of adrenaline, instantly dispelling much of the fatigue and confusion from his journey.

The air in Harbin is dry, cold, and clear, carrying a rugged, unfamiliar feel that belongs to the North, quite different from the warm and humid air of Shanghai.

The people on the platform were wearing bulky cotton-padded jackets and trousers, dog-skin hats or scarves, and spoke in loud voices with a heavy retroflex ending.

He didn't stop in Harbin, and didn't even have time to take a good look at this famous northern city full of exotic charm.

Based on the address he had noted down and the inquiries he made along the way, he hurriedly went to the long-distance bus station and bought a bus ticket to the small county where his second brother and sister lived.

The dilapidated long-distance bus swayed along the bumpy dirt road, as if it might fall apart at any moment.

The scenery outside the window grew increasingly desolate, with vast fields of harvested soil exposing the black earth, and in the distance, undulating, barren mountains. The trees were withered, leaving only gray-black branches pointing straight to the gray sky, creating a bleak and desolate scene.

Occasionally, you can see low mud-brick houses and farmers wrapped in thick cotton-padded clothes driving horse-drawn carts.

Finally, around four o'clock in the afternoon, as the sky began to darken, Yang Guangming, looking travel-worn and exhausted but with sharp eyes, stood at the entrance of the low, slightly dilapidated red brick bungalow of the county hospital.

A white wooden sign hangs above the entrance, with the words "XX County People's Hospital" painted in red, the lettering already somewhat faded.

He composed himself, placed his luggage at his feet, carefully tidied his wind-blown, dusty hair and wrinkled clothes, trying to make himself look as presentable as possible, before taking a deep breath of the cold air, picking up his luggage and going inside.

The hospital smelled of disinfectant mixed with some strange herbal scent and an indescribable stale odor.

The corridor was dimly lit, with the lower half of the walls painted green and the upper half white, though much of the paint had peeled off, revealing the gray underneath. People in white or blue striped hospital gowns moved slowly, their expressions ranging from affectionate to pained to numb.

He was looking around for the sign for the orthopedic ward when a familiar figure emerged from the room in front, carrying a white enamel spittoon. The figure was looking down and heading towards the washroom at the end of the corridor.

It was her second sister, Yang Xiangmei.

She wore a bulky, dark-colored floral cotton-padded jacket, her hair was casually tied back, with a few strands falling around her pale cheeks. Her face was haggard, her eyes were red and swollen, and she looked much thinner than when she left home, as if she was shrouded in immense fatigue, anxiety, and helplessness.

"Second Sister!" Yang Guangming stopped and called out, his voice hoarse from thirst and cold.

Yang Xiangmei looked up at the sound, her gaze somewhat blank.

When she saw her younger brother suddenly appear before her, covered in dust and looking tired, but with bright and determined eyes, she was stunned, as if she couldn't believe her eyes and thought it was a hallucination caused by excessive worry.

The enamel spittoon in his hand fell to the cold cement floor with a "clang," making a crisp and piercing sound, and a small amount of dirty water splashed out.

The next second, a huge surprise, days of grievances, heavy pressure, and the strong dependence on her most trusted relatives... all these complex emotions suddenly overwhelmed the defenses she had been trying to maintain.

Tears welled up instantly, streaming down her rough, cracked cheeks.

"Little brother!"

She choked back tears, as if something was tightly blocking her throat. She could only utter those two words before she could say nothing more. She just stood there, her shoulders trembling violently, letting tears flow freely, and letting out suppressed sobs.

Yang Guangming put down his luggage and quickly walked forward.

(End of this chapter)