Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

Three days.

For three whole days, Yi Zhonghai and two level-seven workers worked day and night.

Although the two level-eight workers were exhausted, they still personally went to the workshop every day to inspect the quality, not daring to be careless at all.

When I get tired, I lean against the machine and rest for a while.

When I'm sleepy, I rinse my face with cold water.

I'm hungry, so I'll just take a couple of bites of cornbread and keep going.

Yi Zhonghai has completely gone mad.

On the third night, the last piece of workpiece was completed.

The quality inspector checked it three times before looking up.

"qualified."

A cheer erupted in the workshop.

Yi Zhonghai leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to sit on the ground.

He had his eyes closed, was breathing heavily, and his face was covered in sweat and grease.

Factory Director Yang stood to the side, looking at the old man in his sixties, feeling a mix of emotions.

He knew that Yi Zhonghai had done wrong and was morally flawed.

But for those three days, the old man worked like his life depended on it.

"Old Yi," he walked over, squatted down, "you've worked hard."

Yi Zhonghai opened his eyes, looked at him, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

Factory Director Yang patted him on the shoulder.

"The factory will remember your contribution."

------------

The next day, the deaf old woman went to the factory and found Director Yang.

Factory Director Yang was reading documents in his office when he saw her and quickly stood up.

"Grandma, what brings you here?"

The deaf old woman sat down and put her cane aside.

"Director Yang, I'm here to plead for Zhonghai."

Factory Director Yang was stunned for a moment, then sighed.

"Grandma, I know what you're thinking. But you also know what Yi Zhonghai did; it's a matter of principle. The factory's decision to deal with him is based on evidence."

The deaf old woman nodded: "I know. He deserves to be punished for all those scumbag deeds."

She paused.

"But how has he done these past three days?"

Factory Director Yang remained silent for a few seconds.

"here you go."

"That's fine then." The deaf old woman looked at him. "Director Yang, I don't ask you to withdraw the punishment. I just ask you to give him a chance."

Factory Director Yang remained silent.

The deaf old woman continued, "He was wrong, but he admitted it. He's been working like his life depended on it these past three days. If the factory needs him anywhere, let him do it. He can make up for it with good deeds, okay?"

"Anything he can do, just let him know."

"But could we restore his work grade?"

Factory Director Yang remained silent for a long time.

Finally, he nodded.

"Grandma, I'll give it a try. But after this, we'll be completely even."

The deaf old woman sighed and nodded. She had used up all her favors, and she didn't know if what she did was right or wrong.

Then the factory's loudspeaker broadcast a message:

"Comrade Yi Zhonghai, an employee of our factory, performed outstandingly in an emergency processing task. He led two level-seven workers and worked continuously for three days and three nights to successfully complete the processing of the workpieces, all of which were qualified. After deliberation by the factory management, it has been decided to issue a commendation to Comrade Yi Zhonghai and award him a merit."

The broadcast echoed throughout the factory area.

The workers listened with varying expressions.

Someone scoffed, "Him? He actually did something?"

Someone sighed, "Regardless of what others think, this job was indeed done beautifully."

Some people say, "Merit is merit, and fault is fault; each should be dealt with separately."

Yi Zhonghai stood at the workshop entrance, listening to the broadcast, his face expressionless.

The deaf old woman walked over with her cane and stood next to him.

"Zhonghai," she said softly, "you've finally won back your pride."

Yi Zhonghai turned to look at her, his eyes a little red.

"Godmother, I..."

The deaf old woman waved her hand: "Don't say anymore. Go back and get some rest."

Yi Zhonghai nodded, turned and left.

He walked slowly, his back slightly hunched.

He's fifty years old and still working so hard.

What exactly is he after?

------------

A few days later, Yi Zhonghai was summoned to the factory headquarters.

Factory Director Yang looked at him and said, "Old Yi, the factory has discussed this. Your performance this time was indeed good. But the mistakes you made before cannot be wiped clean."

Yi Zhonghai nodded: "I know."

Factory Director Yang took out a document.

"I'm giving you a task—mentor an apprentice. Once you've mentored five level seven workers, your worker level will be restored to level seven, and the penalty of not being able to take level exams will be lifted."

Yi Zhonghai was stunned.

Five level-seven workers?

If a factory can produce one or two level-seven workers a year, that's a great thing.

Five?

Factory Director Yang looked at him and said, "What's wrong? You're afraid to accept it?"

Yi Zhonghai took a deep breath.

"I'll take it."

------------

After leaving the factory, Yi Zhonghai also went to the neighborhood office.

He wanted to know if his status as an "old man" could be restored.

After listening, the person from the neighborhood office glanced at him, their expression somewhat subtle.

"Master Yi, didn't you know?"

Yi Zhonghai's heart skipped a beat: "Know what?"

The man sighed: "The system of 'big bosses' was abolished in 1958. Now, 'Big Boss' and 'Second Boss' are just titles; they don't have any real power."

"It's just that everyone is used to calling it that, and the people in the courtyard are too diverse, so it's indeed convenient to have an old man in charge to manage things in name only."

"But the liaison officer system was abolished long ago."

Yi Zhonghai stood there, motionless for a long time.

Did you cancel it?

He's been a respected elder for so many years, managing the affairs of the compound for so many years, worrying about so much, and putting in so much effort—

Now tell him that this identity is long gone?

He walked out of the neighborhood office, stood at the door, and looked at the people coming and going. Suddenly, he didn't know where to go.

He recalled the things he had said and done in the courtyard over the years.

Those young people, who act like he's an old man to his face, are they all laughing at him behind his back?

He slowly walked back, his steps heavy as if they were made of lead.

Walking into the courtyard, I saw Yan Bugui sitting in front of his flowers, sighing and complaining.

Two disheartened people fell in love.

------------

Inside Yan Bugui's house, the kerosene lamp cast a dim yellow light.

There was a dish of peanuts and half a bottle of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) on the table.

Yi Zhonghai and Yan Bugui sat opposite each other, neither of them speaking.

After a long while, Yan Bugui spoke first.

"Old Yi, how did our lives end up like this?"

Yi Zhonghai didn't say anything, picked up his wine glass, and took a sip.

Yan Bugui also took a sip and wiped his mouth.

"I worked so hard tending that vegetable garden, hoping the school would let me go back to being a teacher. And what happened? They said we'd talk about it after the famine was over. I donated a few potted plants, hoping to regain my status as the 'Third Uncle,' but they told me the 'Third Uncle' position had been abolished long ago!"

His voice grew louder and louder, tinged with a sob.

"My flowers! I've had them for over a year! And now they're gone!"

Yi Zhonghai glanced at him and finally spoke.

"Old Yan, your flowers are gone, so be it. But my status as an old man is gone too, isn't it?"

Yan Bugui was stunned and looked at him.

Yi Zhonghai took another sip of wine.

"All I ever wanted in my life was to be a respected person. At the factory, to be praised for Master Yi's excellent skills. In the courtyard, to be known as Grandpa Yi for his fairness. And what was the result?"

He gave a wry smile.

"No matter how good your skills are, people will say you have moral flaws. No matter how fair your management is, people will say your status has already been revoked."

He put down his wine glass and looked out the window at the pitch-black sky.

"Old Yan, what do you think we should do from now on?"

Yan Bugui remained silent for a long time.

Then he said, "I don't know. But we have to figure something out."

He turned to look at Yi Zhonghai.

"Teach your apprentices well. If you train five level-seven workers, the factory will recognize you."

Yi Zhonghai nodded.

"You're in charge of the vegetable garden, so take good care of it. Once the famine is over, the school might actually let you go back."

Yan Bugui nodded.

The two fell silent again.

After a while, Yan Bugui suddenly said, "Old Yi, you know, that kid Zhang Dabiao, his parents are Taoist priests, and his family background isn't exactly good, so how come he's doing so well?"

Yi Zhonghai thought for a moment and said, "He has real skills."

Yan Bugui sighed.

"We're capable too, so why can't we?"

Yi Zhonghai did not answer.

The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered, casting two shadows on the wall.

One was tall and the other short, both hunched over.

There are still a few peanuts left on the table.

There's still a little over half a bottle of Erguotou left.

Outside the window, the night wind blew, rustling the leaves.

Autumn of 1961 was almost over.

Winter is coming soon.