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

With a heavy fish basket in hand, Yang Ming hurriedly left the riverbank where the silent killing had just taken place.

His expression was calm, as if the decision and action he had just made in a flash had simply been brushed away from the dust that had settled on his clothes.

The weight in his hands reminded him of what he had gained on this trip, and also carried the hope of improving his family's situation.

He deliberately took a detour, avoiding the main road where people might pass by, and walked back along a more secluded, overgrown path.

He began meticulously weaving the "story" he would tell when he got home, scrutinizing every detail and every possible question to ensure there were no obvious flaws.

The city of Beiping remained gray and lifeless, like a giant beast that had been severely wounded and lay prostrate on the ground, barely clinging to life in the cool autumn wind.

The closer I got to home, the more dilapidated the scene became on both sides of the street. There were ruins everywhere, and shacks made of tattered reed mats and wood could be seen everywhere.

Occasionally, you can see elderly people squatting in the corner of a wall, basking in the sun, dressed in rags, staring blankly at the street, as if waiting for a tomorrow that will never come.

Every now and then you can see a few sallow-faced, thin children with unusually large heads chasing a stray cat that is also skinny but moves with extraordinary agility, trying to find some pitiful amusement from it, or... food to eat.

In the blink of an eye, the stray cat darted up the wall and disappeared, leaving the children with disappointed sighs and empty eyes.

Yang Guangming didn't linger, and even deliberately avoided those overly direct gazes.

He walked straight into the familiar, narrow alley. The alley was still lifeless, with only a few weak barks coming from some courtyard, adding to the desolation.

He walked to his front door, but didn't push it open immediately. He listened carefully to what was happening inside.

It was quiet inside; my mother and sisters had not yet returned.

They probably went to dig for wild vegetables in a place further outside the city; if they're unlucky, they won't be able to get home until dark.

He gently pushed open the slightly ajar door and went inside.

The room remained dim, as if the light itself had been diluted by poverty. Only a few inconspicuous holes in the window paper and the faint light filtering through the paper itself barely illuminated the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and a small patch of floor.

Father Yang Huai-ren was still sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), his injured leg barely wrapped in a few pieces of rags, stretched out straight.

His complexion seemed even paler than in the morning, a yellowish-green hue indicative of malnutrition and pain.

Hearing the door open, he struggled to lift his head, his cloudy eyes filled with a habitual numbness and a hint of inquiry as he looked over.

The gaze was initially casual, but then it focused on the son, especially the unfamiliar bamboo basket and net he was carrying.

"Guangming? Why... are you back so early?" Yang Huai-ren's voice was hoarse and weak, like a broken bellows, carrying obvious surprise and a hint of barely perceptible worry.

When my son usually goes out to find odd jobs, whether it's carrying heavy loads or doing short-term work, it's hard to see him before dark, and he usually comes back empty-handed, exhausted and disappointed.

It's quite rare for someone to come back so soon after noon, like today.

He feared that his son had been bullied outside, or... perhaps he simply hadn't found work and returned home disappointed.

Then, his nostrils twitched slightly. "What...what's that smell on you? Why do you smell fishy?"

His gaze fell once again on the unfamiliar bamboo basket his son was carrying, and the net he was holding in his other hand.

For families who rarely eat meat, the fishy smell of river fish is a strange and strong signal.

Yang Guangming placed the fish basket and net on the ground by the door and casually patted the dust off his clothes.

He walked to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), picked up the last bit of cold water in the broken earthenware pot, tilted his head back, and took a sip.

The cold water slid down his throat, slightly moisturizing his dry throat and giving him a brief moment to organize his thoughts.

"father."

He put down the earthenware pot, trying to sound calm, even with a hint of the excitement that a young person feels when they receive an unexpected surprise for the first time.

He carefully controlled this excitement so that it wouldn't seem fake, yet still explain his extraordinary gains.

“I didn’t go to the street corner to look for odd jobs. Instead, I went to the river outside the city to try my luck and see if I could catch some fish and shrimp.” He got straight to the point, stating where he was going to avoid his father making any worse assumptions.

Yang Huai-ren was stunned for a moment, his eyes filled with disbelief and a hint of reproach.

"Go to the river? To catch fish? You...you child, the fish and shrimp in the river are as cunning as ghosts. So many people spend all day waiting by the river and catch nothing. What can a kid like you possibly gain? Isn't it just a waste of your energy?"

It wasn't that he didn't care about his son; rather, the harsh reality had already extinguished most of his unrealistic hopes, and he feared that the greater his son's hopes, the greater his disappointment would be.

Yang Guangming had anticipated his father's reaction. Instead of arguing, he let his actions speak for themselves. He walked to the fish basket, bent down, and lifted the half-closed lid.

Instantly, a stronger, fresher fishy smell spread like a tangible entity, instantly overpowering the original odor in the room.

At the same time, what caught Yang Huai-ren's eye were the fish and shrimp that were crowded together, shimmering with silver light, and still moving slightly!

There were crucian carp as wide as a palm with shimmering scales, carp twisting their bodies and trying to jump, silver carp with a white sheen and a considerable size, and many green-shelled river shrimp jumping futilely in the gaps.

A whole basket full, it must weigh at least thirty pounds!
This sight was like a treasure trove suddenly appearing for a family that had never tasted oily food before!

Yang Huai-ren's eyes widened instantly! His cloudy eyes seemed to be filled with light.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing, and instinctively braced himself against the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) to lean over and get a closer look.

This movement suddenly aggravated his injured leg, and a piercing pain struck him, causing him to gasp for breath and instantly break out in a fine layer of cold sweat on his forehead.

Ignoring the pain, his gaze was fixed on the basket of fish and shrimp. His voice trembled with shock and surprise, "This...this is all...you caught it?"

His gaze swept back and forth between the fish basket and his son's still-childish face, yet calm and devoid of any smugness, as if to confirm that this was not a hallucination caused by hunger, nor a beautiful dream that would soon end.

"Yes." Yang Guangming nodded, his tone certain.

He began to speak according to his carefully prepared speech, his pace steady and his delivery rich in detail:

"I didn't have high hopes, I just thought I'd give it a try."

Surprisingly, I was quite lucky. Not long after I went down, in a bend in the river with dense vegetation, I touched something slippery. I reached out and found it was a rather large carp, probably weighing over a pound, and quite strong.

As he spoke, he observed his father's expression, and seeing that his father was listening intently, he continued.

"There was a fisherman nearby at the time, who looked like a poor person from the neighborhood. He was very envious when he saw me catch such a big fish."

He had a fish basket and a landing net in his hand, and said he was willing to exchange his tools for my fish.

I figured it wouldn't be good to carry fish empty-handed, and having tools might allow me to catch more, which is better than carrying a single fish home, so I traded with him.

This "exchange" is reasonable and explains the origin of the tools, while also mitigating the abruptness of him obtaining such a large catch on his own.

Yang Huai-ren listened intently and couldn't help but press for more information, his voice tinged with urgency: "And then? You caught so much with this net?"

"Not entirely," Yang Guangming continued, aptly introducing the knowledge from that "miscellaneous book" to lay the groundwork for his "ability."

"Didn't I once read a miscellaneous book about fishing techniques? I found it at a secondhand bookstore. It contained notes on finding fish nests, observing water color, and the timing of casting nets, all sorts of bits and pieces."

I tried it today, and it seems to work quite well. Plus, I guess I was really lucky today; the river bend I found had a lot of fish, it was like I just happened to walk into a fish nest.

He combined "skill" and "luck," which not only made it seem authentic but also laid the groundwork for future "steady gains."

He paused, then naturally introduced the part about selling fish to earn money, which was the key to solving the family's immediate financial crisis.

"After scooping for a while, the basket was almost full and very heavy."

The guy who traded tools with me is still here. Seeing how much I'd gained, he wants to buy some from me. His price is reasonable…”

As Yang Guangming finished speaking, he reached into his pocket and naturally took out a six-yuan gold coin—part of the change he had just scavenged from the two bandits, which would fit the story and also fit the premise of "selling some fish."

He handed several brand-new gold yuan notes, still warm from his body, to his father.

Yang Huai-ren's hands trembled as he used almost all his strength to take the few light yet incredibly heavy banknotes.

His fingertips carefully traced the unfamiliar patterns on the banknote. An extremely complex emotion, like a burst dam, instantly overwhelmed the dam he had built up with numbness over the past few days.

There was the ecstatic joy of escaping a desperate situation, the astonishment at his son's abilities and luck, the almost pious appreciation for this "huge sum of money," and a slight sense of unreality that everything had gone too smoothly, fearing that it was all just a mirage.

Six gold yuan notes!

Even now, when prices are starting to fluctuate, this is enough to buy more than ten kilograms of cornmeal, and then exchange it for some coarse salt, enough to feed the whole family for a few days!
What's more, there's also this real, full basket of meat!

His gaze fell back on the fish basket, watching the fish and shrimp still struggling in their final moments, and their vibrant life force seemed to flow into his body as well.

He finally believed his son's words completely. An indescribable excitement surged up, making his eyes well up with tears, and his throat felt like it was blocked by something, choking him up, unable to utter a complete sentence for a long time.

"Good...good! Guangming, you...you really are..."

He was so excited that he was almost incoherent. He wanted to praise his son, but he didn't know what words to use. All words seemed pale in the face of the timely help he had received.

Finally, he simply reached out his thin, bony hands and patted his son's strong arm heavily, his voice choked with barely suppressed sobs, "My son is capable! Really capable! Now... now we can at least catch our breath! We can catch our breath!"

The immense joy dispelled the gloom that had accumulated on his face for days, and his sallow complexion seemed to blush slightly with excitement.

He looked at the basket of fish, then at the money clutched tightly in his hand, as if he had been walking in the dark for too long and was about to give up when he finally saw a glimmer of light, however faint, that pointed him in the right direction.

Seeing his father's ecstatic joy, almost to the point of tears, Yang Guangming felt a sense of peace, but also a pang of sorrow.

The fact that such a small gain could cause the father to lose his composure shows just how desperate the family has become.

He knew that he had taken this first step steadily.

He pressed on, raising a crucial question that also tested his father's wisdom and familial affection.

"Dad, what should we do with this fish? Should we cook it for ourselves, or... like before we separated the family?" His voice was calm, leaving the decision to his father.

This question was like a bucket of just the right amount of cold water, calming Yang Huai-ren down from his brief euphoria.

His smile faded, and he fell silent.

Yang Huai-ren's brows furrowed again, his fingers unconsciously twirling the few gold yuan notes that seemed to still hold warmth, his heart clearly undergoing a fierce struggle.

The family has split up, and theoretically each branch should take care of itself. The old man has also said that from now on, each family should live its own life.

But this whole basket of fish is too much for one family to eat in one meal, and it won't keep well in this hot autumn weather. Pickling it would also require salt, which is also a scarce commodity.

If he ate all the food himself, he would feel guilty seeing the other two families, especially his elderly parents, going hungry, and his conscience would be tormented.

After all, the old man raised him.

But if it's still like before, with a whole family of more than ten people dividing it up together, how much will each family leave behind?
Why should our son risked his life to go down into the river and work hard to earn a living, only to have it given away to so many other people for nothing?

Helping his two younger brothers is a favor; not helping them seems to be his duty.

The sun shone brightly and quietly, without urging him on.

He understood his father's struggle. It wasn't just about the distribution of a few fish; it was about the bottom line of survival, the weight of family ties, and his father's reputation and decisions as the head of the family after the division of the family property.

The only sounds in the room were Yang Huai-ren's heavy breathing and the occasional faint "patter" of a fish tail hitting the sides of the basket.

After a long while, as if he had gone through a long and arduous inner journey, Yang Huai-ren exhaled a long breath, as if he had made up his mind and as if he had unloaded some of the invisible burden.

He raised his head, his eyes revealing a father's decisiveness and clarity.

“Now that we’ve separated, we shouldn’t fight together anymore.” His voice was deep and clear, setting the tone. “It’s inappropriate for us to get back together; it’ll only cause trouble.”

He then changed the subject, revealing his concern: "However... we are family after all, connected by blood."

Your grandparents are old and can't stand being hungry.

As children and grandchildren, we cannot watch them go hungry while we eat alone; that would be disobedient and unfilial.

He paused, then explained the specific distribution plan: "This fish, give two jin to each of your second and third uncles."

This way, we can maintain our brotherly bond and prevent them from thinking that we, the eldest branch, have forgotten our roots after receiving benefits and are now talking behind our backs.

Two pounds of fish is enough for each family to make a soup, so the children can have some meat at first.

He paused, then continued, his tone filled with anticipation for the upcoming dinner:
"Tonight, let's invite your grandparents over for dinner. It'll be our family meal, including your grandparents, all together."

Yang Guangming listened to his father's arrangements and nodded inwardly.

Father's decision took into account the family's most pressing survival needs, established independence after the separation of the family, and did not completely sever family ties. In particular, he showed filial piety to his grandparents, and no one could find fault with him.

Giving some to my second and third uncles' families silenced their complaints, prevented them from being accused of hogging the food, and maintained a semblance of harmony.

At this sensitive time when the family has just separated, this approach is considered quite prudent and thorough, reflecting the father's consideration as the eldest son.

“Father, you’ve thought this through.” Yang Guangming agreed, but he still had his own thoughts.

He needed to instill confidence in his father about the "stable harvest" in the future, and he also needed to take the opportunity to improve the quality of their diet—he really didn't want to eat that fish soup with the scales and entrails cooked together anymore.

The availability of space gives him the confidence to pursue something better.

“Dad, I think the reason I caught so many fish today isn’t just luck,” Yang Guangming said earnestly, his eyes revealing a convincing certainty.

"Maybe I do have some tricks up my sleeve when it comes to finding and catching fish, or maybe it's... a feel for it? A talent? I just haven't tried it before and haven't discovered it." He used a rather mysterious, yet plausible, term.

He looked at his father, his gaze clear and firm: "If we go again in the future, even if we're not so lucky, the results will definitely not be much worse."

At least... as long as our family doesn't go hungry, I don't think it's a big problem.

He didn't make any overly definitive statements, but the confidence he conveyed was strong enough.

Looking at his son's confident expression and listening to his calm words that were unlike those of a young man, Yang Huai-ren couldn't help but believe him a little more.

In the past, he would have thought his son was talking big and was just being young and impetuous.

But today, with these tangible gains far exceeding his expectations right before his eyes—heavy fish baskets and solid banknotes—he couldn't help but re-examine his son, who seemed to have grown up overnight and become somewhat unfamiliar.

Could it be that God left a way out for the Yang family, and it was granted to Guangming?
"Really? You...you really have that confidence?" He couldn't help but ask to confirm, his voice filled with anticipation, but also with a hint of vulnerability, fear that his hopes would be dashed.

“Yes.” Yang Guangming nodded heavily, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I have that confidence. So, from now on, we won’t have to be like before when it comes to food, where we’re so stingy with everything, treating even fish scales and innards like treasures, and eating them with a mouth full of fishy and bitter taste.”

He then offered his specific suggestions, which was his long-planned objective.

“This is what I think, Dad. This basket of fish and shrimp is of various kinds and sizes.”

Why don't we ask Grandma to help clean it? She can scrape off the scales, remove the innards, and chop off the head and tail. We'll just keep the cleaned fish meat.

He paused, observing his father's expression. Seeing that his brows furrowed again as usual, clearly feeling that this was too "wasteful," he continued to explain:

"We won't keep the fish heads, tails, scales, and innards that we've cleaned up. We'll give them all to Grandma so she can distribute them to her second and third uncles' families."

This way, we've given them quite a bit, and it saves us the trouble of cleaning up ourselves.

We've done our best, and at least we can have something clean and tidy to eat ourselves.

In those days, especially for people who were extremely hungry, fish scales and entrails were eaten, as they were better than grass roots and tree bark.

But he simply couldn't stand the rough texture and strong fishy smell, and in order to avoid making his stomach suffer, he had to persuade his father to agree.

Using these "leftovers" to do favors makes the eldest son appear generous and not petty, showing that he hasn't forgotten his two brothers even when he has food, while also allowing himself to eat more comfortably—a win-win situation.

Upon hearing this, Yang Huai-ren's brows furrowed. It wasn't that he disagreed with helping his brother, but his struggle for survival made him instinctively heartbroken at the waste of even a tiny bit of food.

He felt that his son's suggestion was a bit wasteful and too generous.

“Guangming, small fish don’t produce much meat to begin with. If you remove the head, tail, scales, and internal organs, you’ll probably lose more than a third of the meat.”

He sighed, his tone filled with admonition and heartache, "You know how your grandma is packing things up... If she's even a little bit loose, she might take half of it."

He looked at his son and said earnestly, "I know you are kind-hearted and want to help your uncles and the others more, so that they can also benefit more."

But we're having a hard time too... You finally got this food, and now so much of it is being given away...

Don't let yourself end up not having enough to eat, causing yourself distress and disappointing your mother and sisters.

His concern was about the actual reduction in the share, and that if his son's fishing didn't go so well in the future, he might regret his generosity and it could even lead to resentment within the family.

Yang Guangming understood his father's concerns, which stemmed from a mindset formed by poverty.

"Father, don't worry."

His tone was firm: "I said I can take care of our family's meals from now on."

Consider this little bit of 'waste' today as a way of thanking Grandma for helping with the tidying up, and also as a small token of our appreciation to our uncles after we've separated our households.

As long as Grandma is willing to help tidy up neatly, we can afford to pay her for it.

Yang Huai-ren looked at his son and fell silent.

He once again felt the maturity and decisiveness in his son that was beyond his years.

He was no longer a child who needed his protection, but a young man who had begun to shoulder the burden of the family, and seemed to have the ability to do so.

The fish was caught by my son at great risk, and the money was also earned by my son.

The son is willing to help the extended family out of consideration for family ties, provided that his own family is well-fed. This intention is good, and can even be described as benevolent.

As a father, he shouldn't discourage others; perhaps... he should support them instead?

Perhaps... my son really does have some special ability that will prevent them from going hungry again?
Once this thought arose, it was like a sprout emerging from a crack in the rock, stubbornly spreading in his barren heart, bringing a faint but invaluable glimmer of hope.

This hope was more appealing to him than the few fish or the few dollars in front of him.

"Alright." Yang Huai-ren finally nodded, his voice a little hoarse, as if he had put down a heavy burden, or as if he had made a significant entrustment.

"Since that's what you think, then let's do it your way. You caught the fish, so you get to decide. Just... don't regret it later." He couldn't help but add a word of caution.

"No, Dad." Yang Guangming gave a relaxed and sincere smile. "Then I'll take the fish to Grandpa and Grandma now? And tell Grandma about cleaning the fish while I'm at it."

"Go." Yang Huai-ren waved his hand, his gaze returning to the basket of fish and the money in his hand. He was filled with mixed emotions, but the heavy despair he felt had indeed been lessened considerably.

Yang Guangming picked up the heavy fish basket, turned around and walked out of the house, heading towards his grandfather's room in the main house.

The main house door was ajar, and the inside was quiet, with a lifeless, oppressive atmosphere. Yang Guangming gently knocked on the door, then pushed it open and went inside.

The room was equally dim. Grandpa Yang Hanzhang and Grandma were both slumped on the kang (a heated brick bed), seemingly too weak and hungry to even speak.

Grandpa had his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling slightly, while Grandma stared at the dark roof with her eyes open, lost in thought.

Hearing the noise, Yang Hanzhang barely managed to lift his heavy eyelids and look over.

When he saw the bamboo basket carrying his eldest grandson, which reeked of a strong fishy smell, a look of surprise flashed across his cloudy eyes. He then focused hard, trying to make out what it was.

"Guangming? What is this...?" He struggled to prop himself up on his elbows to sit higher, but his weak arms trembled and his voice was dry and weak.

Grandma inside the kang (heated brick bed) also stirred abruptly. Her signature little feet shifted position, and her gaze, as if drawn by a magnet, immediately fell upon the fish basket. Her nose twitched involuntarily a few times.

"Grandpa, Grandma," Yang Guangming said respectfully as he placed the fish basket on the ground.

Then, he repeated the same story he had told his father, even adding more details, to the two elderly people.

This includes how he was lucky enough to catch a big fish as soon as he went into the water, how he exchanged tools with that "pale and thin, eager-eyed" stranger, how he used the techniques he learned from the book "Miscellaneous Records of River Fish Catching" to find the fish's nest, how he sold some of the fish to that "envious" person for six yuan, and how he was worried about not having rice at home, so he brought the rest of the fish back.

When he spoke, his tone was calm and his words were clear. He did not exaggerate or show off, as if he were just stating an ordinary matter, only the outcome of which was unexpectedly good.

But to the two weathered old men, who were now in dire straits, this was nothing short of a thunderclap!
Yang Hanzhang's eyes grew brighter and brighter as he listened, and the wrinkles on his face seemed to be smoothed out by this sudden good news.

He never expected that his eldest grandson, who was forced to drop out of school and seemed to have no future, would find such an unexpected way to survive during the most difficult time for the whole family!

Although fishing sounds unpredictable and like it depends on the weather, today's harvest is enough to prove that Guangming may really have the luck or ability in this area!
This is like a single-plank bridge suddenly appearing when you've reached the end of the road!

Although dangerous, it's possible to get past people!

"Good! Good! Good boy!" Yang Hanzhang said "good" three times in a row, his lips trembling with excitement, and his thin hands unconsciously gripped the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

"Heavens... thank goodness they haven't completely cut off the Yang family's path! You have this ability, good! Good!"

His gaze as he looked at Yang Guangming was filled with indescribable relief and a rekindled flame of hope.

As long as one child can stand up, there is still hope for this family!

Even the grandmother, who was not usually very affectionate towards the eldest son's family and was more concerned about her own son, had a rare, even overly enthusiastic and exaggerated smile on her face at this moment.

She struggled to sit up straight, her small feet dangling rapidly under the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), her eyes fixed on the basket of fish as if afraid it would grow wings and fly away. She kept praising it, her voice rising an octave:
"Oh my! I knew it! Guangming has been smart since he was a child! He's destined for greatness!"
Look, look, these scholars are really something else; they can learn so much from just reading a book!

If this were in the past, it would be like the God of Literature descending to earth and being touched by divine energy!
"That's great, that's great... finally we've got some meat in our house..."

She kept talking, her eyes almost glued to the fish basket, as if it contained not fish, but a life-saving elixir, a source of vitality to restore her family's vitality.

Yang Hanzhang, after all, had been the head of a family before, and after the initial surprise, he quickly forced himself to calm down.

When he saw his eldest grandson carrying over a whole basket of fish, he understood what was going on.

This child is kind-hearted and mindful of family ties; he didn't eat alone.

But he was also aware of his wife's temperament and the real difficulties each branch of the family would face after the division of property.

He had to say some things in advance to set the tone, lest his wife become greedy or cause more trouble in the families of his two younger sons, thus chilling the heart of the eldest son's family.

He cleared his throat, suppressing his excitement, and began to speak:
"Guangming, I am very pleased that you have this intention."

Today's harvest was so great, it's a good thing, a ray of hope for our Yang family! It also allows the whole family to share in the good fortune and relax a bit.

He first defined the nature of it, which is a good thing, a blessing brought by the light.

He glanced at his wife beside him, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, almost leaping onto the fish basket. His tone was calm yet carried an undeniable conviction, clearly drawing a line:

"Well, today is the first day of the family division after all."

You should give a pound of this fish to your second and third uncles' families. That way, you can show your brotherly affection and let them have a treat to supplement their diet.

From now on, each branch of the family will have to rely on its own abilities; we can't keep depending on the eldest branch forever.

His words not only set the tone and clarified the allocation of shares, but also preemptively blocked any further demands his wife might make, clearly indicating that "from now on, it's up to each of us to rely on our own abilities."

Sure enough, when the old lady heard this, the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and her loose eyelids drooped down, concealing the momentary dissatisfaction that flashed through her eyes, but in the end she did not dare to refute the old man to his face.

It's better for the two sons' families to benefit a little than nothing. A pound of fish may not be much, but it'll make enough soup for the kids to fight over.

Seeing the two elders' reactions, Yang Guangming felt even more respect for his grandfather's fairness and long-term considerations.

Grandpa offered to share the fish with his second and third uncles, and the quota was one jin (500 grams), which was less than he had expected. This was clearly because he had taken the interests and enthusiasm of the eldest son's family into account, and wanted to avoid making them feel that the burden was too heavy.

This made him feel more at ease, and it also proved that his grandfather was still as shrewd as ever.

He stepped forward, subtly placing his father in front, and spoke in a more sincere and earnest tone:
"Grandpa, Grandma, how should we divide this fish? My dad told me before I came."

He paused, noticing that his grandparents were listening intently, especially his grandmother, whose eyes held a look of inquiry.

"My father said that although we have separated from the family, the blood ties can never be severed."

Seeing that everyone in the family is struggling, especially my second and third uncles who have many children, they might feel uneasy if we just divide the fish among them, thinking we're taking advantage of them, which would weigh on their minds.

He chose a great angle, which shows the thoughtfulness of the eldest son's wife.

Yang Guangming continued, "My dad's idea is that we shouldn't sell the fish by weight; it seems too formal."

I decided to trouble Grandma to clean the whole basket of fish. She scaled them, gutted them, and chopped off the heads and tails.

We only need the middle part.

At this point, he emphasized his words and revealed the crucial "exchange condition":
"We, the eldest son's family, will give all of these salvaged items—fish heads, tails, scales, and entrails—to you, Grandma, so you can distribute them to your second and third uncles' families."

Whether they prefer to make soup or something else, it's always some meat, something to stave off hunger.

This way, they feel at ease holding onto the fish, knowing that it's just what's left after cleaning up, not the official distribution of fish.

At home, we also eat clean and tidy fish and meat. My dad said... his leg injury might heal faster if he eats clean food.”

Upon hearing his suggestion, Yang Hanzhang was taken aback for a moment, then a look of understanding and approval flashed in his eyes.

He immediately understood the deeper meaning behind his eldest son and grandson's actions.

This showed that the eldest son's family valued kinship and also drew a line, but he still felt that the eldest son's family was a bit too generous.

She would be more willing to let her husband distribute the "leftovers," and it would also give her a good reputation with her two younger sons, showing her "ability" and "favoritism" as a mother.

Sure enough, before Yang Hanzhang could even express his opinion, the old lady nodded eagerly, her face beaming with joy, her wrinkles crinkling together. She spoke quickly, her tone unusually enthusiastic, as if afraid her husband would object.
"Oh my! Huai Ren is such a kind and thoughtful child! This is wonderful! This couldn't be better!"
Don't worry! I guarantee I'll clean this fish thoroughly, leaving it spotless, without a single scale missing!
Give me those odds and ends, and I promise there won't be any waste. They'll all be distributed among your second and third uncles' families! They'll definitely remember how good your eldest son's family is! They'll remember how good you are to them!

As she spoke, she deftly moved off the kang (a heated brick bed), put on her small pointed cloth shoes, and moved with such agility that she was nothing like the old woman who had just been lying weakly on the kang, starving. It was as if the basket of fish had given her boundless strength.

She walked quickly to the fish basket, reached out and touched the fish inside, feeling their heavy weight. Her smile deepened, and she began to think about how to distribute these "little bits" to maximize the benefits for herself and her two young sons.

Seeing his wife's impatient, almost immediate reaction, Yang Hanzhang understood perfectly well what was going on. He couldn't help but sigh, but said nothing more. After all, everyone has selfish desires; it's human nature.

The fact that the eldest son's family has gone to such lengths shows that they have done everything they could and considered everything thoroughly.

He looked at Yang Guangming, his gaze gentle, carrying a hint of barely perceptible guilt and even more expectation:

"Since your father said so, let's do as he says. Let your grandmother do the tidying up."

He acquiesced to this plan.

"Not tired at all! What's tiring about this! I'm happy!" The old lady waved her hands repeatedly, already picking up the fish basket, ready to take it to a better-lit spot in the yard to start working. Her energy made her seem ten years younger.

Things were settled smoothly and went exactly as he had planned, which put Yang Guangming at ease.

With today's excuse, many things will be much easier to handle in the future.

“Then Grandma will have to go through all this trouble. My dad has a leg problem, and my mom and sisters haven’t come back yet, so I have to go out again,” Yang Guangming said.

The old man asked with concern, "Are you going out again? Where are you planning to go?"

“I’ll go get some medicine for Dad,” Yang Guangming said, his tone becoming serious. “Dad’s leg is terribly swollen, and the color is off. If we don’t use medicine to disperse the blood stasis, promote blood circulation, and relieve pain, he’ll probably recover slowly. If we delay, he might develop a problem, like it will hurt when it’s cloudy or rainy, or… even more serious. He might not be able to do heavy work in the future.”

As he spoke, he waved the gold yuan notes in his hand.

"I just made some money from selling fish today, so I'll go get some medicine first. Eating is important, but Dad's leg is important too."

Upon hearing this, Yang Hanzhang's face showed a complex expression, a mixture of worry for his son's injuries, relief at his grandson's thoughtful consideration, and a deep sense of guilt as a father who was powerless to treat his son's injuries.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end it only turned into a silent sigh. Then he waved his hand: "Getting the medicine... is an important matter. Go, and come back soon."

The old lady feigned concern, but her gaze remained fixed on the fish basket: "Yes, getting your father his medicine is the priority. Hurry up, be careful on the road, things are chaotic here."

Yang Guangming responded and, without lingering, turned and left the main house. Behind him came the sound of his grandmother impatiently fiddling with the fish basket.

Stepping out of the courtyard, Yang Guangming discerned the direction and headed towards "Jishengtang," a pharmacy in the southern part of the city that he remembered had a fairly good reputation.

The streets of Beiping were still dilapidated and gloomy, and most pedestrians looked pale and hurried along, but Yang Guangming's mood was completely different from when he came out in the morning.

Although they had just gone through a life-or-death battle and their hands were indirectly stained with blood, they had initially resolved the family crisis and paved the way for using the space's resources to improve their family's situation.

His father's and grandfather's attitudes gave him more room to maneuver.

The pharmacy wasn't far; it took about fifteen minutes to walk there.

The shop is small, and the gold paint on the three characters "Jishengtang" on the antique-style signboard has been peeling off.

As you approach, a rich aroma of traditional Chinese medicine wafts over you. The scent is deep and ancient, as if it carries people's yearning for health and survival for thousands of years.

The shop wasn't very well lit. Along the wall were rows of tall medicine cabinets that exuded a somber wood color and the aroma of herbs. Countless small drawers had white labels on them, with the names of various medicinal herbs written on them.

The elderly doctor sitting in the clinic had almost completely white hair, a thin but vigorous build, and wore reading glasses. He was squinting as he took the pulse of a woman who was coughing incessantly, his expression focused.

A shop assistant dressed in a slightly worn blue cloth shirt with a white towel draped over his shoulder approached with a professional, enthusiastic smile: "Young man, are you here to get medicine or to see a doctor?"

Yang Guangming clearly stated his purpose: "My father was beaten the day before yesterday and his leg is badly swollen and covered in bruises. He can't move it. I want to buy some medicine to disperse blood stasis, promote blood circulation, relax muscles and relieve pain."

He described in detail the general condition and location of the injury.

After hearing this, the old doctor raised his eyelids slightly, glanced at Yang Guangming over his reading glasses, and gestured for him to come over. The waiter stepped aside.

The old doctor asked briefly how the injury was caused, then looked at the location and severity of the injury that Yang Guangming had indicated, and then pondered for a moment before stroking his beard with his withered fingers.

"When the injury is to the muscles and tendons, blood stasis obstructs the flow of qi and blood, causing pain."

The old doctor spoke slowly, his voice carrying a convincing calmness, "You can apply safflower oil externally, along with musk-based bone-strengthening plaster."

Apply safflower oil to the affected area daily and gently massage until it feels warm to help the medicine penetrate.

Soften the musk-infused bone-strengthening plaster before use, apply it to the most painful area, and change it every two days. Internal use... is not necessary for now; try external application first to see the effect. All medicines have some degree of toxicity; if external treatment is possible, avoid internal use.

The shop assistant listened attentively, and after the old doctor finished speaking, he took over the conversation, quickly walked to the medicine cabinet, took out a brown glass bottle of safflower oil with a red paper label, and then counted out ten plasters wrapped in oil paper with the words "Musk Bone Strengthening Plaster" printed on them from a cardboard box.

"One bottle of safflower oil and ten patches of musk bone-strengthening plaster."

The shop assistant announced the items, then went behind the counter, picked up an abacus, and fiddled with the black beads a few times. "Thank you, twelve yuan and fifty cents."

This price made Yang Guangming raise an eyebrow slightly.

The gold yuan had only been issued for a short time, and prices had not yet skyrocketed. This medicine price was already quite high for ordinary people.

Twelve yuan and fifty cents is almost equivalent to half a month's wages for an average laborer, and they might not even be able to earn that much.

Without hesitation, he took out the gold yuan notes he had prepared beforehand and paid the bill.

The shop assistant handed him the plaster wrapped in straw paper and a small bottle of brown safflower oil, casually reminding him, "Don't get the plaster wet, and don't get the safflower oil in your eyes."

Yang Guangming took the medicine and carefully tucked it into his pocket.

Having done all this, he didn't linger any longer and hurried home. (End of Chapter)