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

The next morning, a weekend, the matter was finally brought to the forefront.

The location was under the crooked locust tree in the front yard of No. 95. It was cold, and no one went there to cool off, but people still habitually gathered there when they wanted to talk.

Xu Damao stood in the middle, Yan Bugui on the left, Zhang Dabiao, Liu Guangqi, Shazhu, Huzi and a few others were scattered around, and some neighbors who were listening to the commotion were standing in twos and threes.

Xu Damao spoke first, setting the tone—he was going to treat everyone to a meal, two tables, to thank them for their usual support. This was something Teacher Yan had reminded him of, the rules of the compound.

As he finished speaking, he glanced at Yan Bugui out of the corner of his eye.

Yan Bugui didn't respond to that, but stood there with a smile, his hands behind his back, looking like he was just there for the fun of it.

Zhang Dabiao spoke, looking at Xu Damao, his voice not loud, but every word clear.

"Da Mao, it's your business to treat everyone, but I have a question I need to clarify beforehand—if this is really the rule, then every time someone in the neighborhood gets pregnant, we have to invite them. How will the standard be calculated?"

Xu Damao slapped his thigh: "That's exactly what I was going to say!"

He turned to look at Yan Bugui, raising an eyebrow: "Teacher Yan, you were right yesterday, having a celebration for a pregnant woman is a tradition. But let me ask you—if Jie Cheng and Yu Li are also pregnant, will you invite them? And according to what standard?"

Yan Bugui's eyelid twitched.

He wasn't flustered; he'd thought about this all night, tossing and turning in bed. Yan Jiecheng and Yu Li had made it very clear at the family meeting—with food shortages for the next few years, if they didn't have children, it would be at least two or three years from now. What would things be like in two or three years? If the harvest was good, a meal wouldn't cost much. Besides, Old Yan had already eaten Xu Damao's meal; he wouldn't need to repay him for at least two or three years.

Let's take advantage of the immediate benefits first!

"Please! Of course, please!" Yan Bugui said in a strong voice. "If my daughter-in-law is pregnant, we'll invite her too, two tables! Four cold dishes, four hot dishes, and a soup. This tradition can't be compromised."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a voice came from the side.

"Dad, who told you to agree to that?"

Yan Jiecheng squeezed out from the back of the crowd, smiling broadly, but his lips were twitching.

He knew his own situation best—he'd just finished paying off the family's living expenses, was still heavily indebted to the mutual aid society, and his family's savings were barely enough to eat. Two tables for a banquet? He couldn't even scrape together the money for groceries!

"Dad, I don't agree to this."

Yan Bugui's expression changed: "Why don't you agree? This is a joyous occasion! This is tradition."

"I accept the happy occasion, but I can't afford to invite the whole hospital for two tables," Yan Jiecheng said bluntly. "I can easily arrange a table with a few close friends. But two tables for the whole hospital, in this year's climate, I don't have that kind of money."

"Sit on a stool that fits your body size; there's no need to pretend to be something you're not."

"I can't afford to ask you to pay for it."

Yan Jiecheng is also a bachelor. He knows his own capabilities. If you say you'll treat us to a meal after having a son, that's fine. But why would you treat us to a meal while you're pregnant?

Isn't that just creating chaos? Having money but nowhere to spend it?

Yan Bugui's expression was priceless—his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish just pulled ashore, both thirsty and bewildered.

He never expected his son to undermine him in public.

The young men didn't help to start the fire. Tiger was the first to speak up: "Jiecheng is right, we understand." Big Head nodded in agreement: "Yes, there's no need to put on a show, we young people all understand."

Xu Damao rubbed his chin, looked at Yan Jiecheng, then at Yan Bugui, and found it quite interesting.

Sha Zhu leaned against the wall, unusually quiet, and just watched.

Liu Guangqi smoothed things over: "How about this—we don't follow the rules. It's each family's own business to host a dinner party, so let's not set any standards. If we really want to celebrate, a few of us young people can get together, each bring a dish, and have a simple meal at Da Biao's small courtyard. That'll do."

Xu Damao slapped his thigh: "I think it's a good idea!"

Sha Zhu was unusually straightforward: "The young people can cook their own meals, and I'll take charge of the cooking. Everyone should bring their own dishes, and I'll put them together. I guarantee it won't be any worse than a state-run restaurant."

Tiger, Big Head, and Six Roots nodded repeatedly, while Zhang Dabiao continued eating sunflower seeds in the corner without objecting.

Xu Damao even shouted, "From now on, if anyone has a happy occasion, they can invite others if they want, or we young people can put together a table ourselves! Everyone can bring one dish, it's up to you whether you want it or not!"

"Not comparing ourselves to others, doing what we can afford, saving money and avoiding waste—isn't that a good thing? It's also in line with the policies from above."

This was actually quite reasonable and it helped families in difficult circumstances, so the young people readily agreed.

But Yan Bugui was not happy.

He stood there, his face alternating between pale and flushed.

The young people are pooling their money themselves? Not inviting the whole hospital?

Then Yan Bugui won't be able to get a free meal.

The whole family is hosting a dinner party, and the Yan family can have two people at the table, getting two free meals. But the young people only make up one table, what does that have to do with Yan Bugui?

The cooked duck just flew away like that?

His mind raced, and his mouth followed suit—

"No, no! This has been a tradition in our compound for decades. We have to follow a set procedure for weddings and funerals. We invite the whole compound to two tables, with one person from each family at each table. This is the rule, and it can't be broken with your generation!"

Zhang Dabiao paused for a moment while cracking sunflower seeds.

He looked up at Yan Bugui, a slight smile playing on his lips—not a friendly one.

"Teacher Yan, we don't really care. But Yan Jiecheng disagrees with this rule, while you do. So, if Yu Li really gets pregnant, who in your family will pay for the banquet?"

This one sentence froze Yan Bugui in place.

Yan Jiecheng said he wouldn't invite anyone, but his father said he would—who's going to pay for it then?

If Yan Bugui says "I'll pay," then he's paying for his son's money. Why should he? When has Yan Bugui ever paid for anyone else's money?

If we're talking about "Jie Cheng Chu," Yan Jie Cheng has already publicly stated that he can't afford to invite him. If he pushes him further, it's like a father forcing his son to put on a brave face, which will only lead to him being criticized behind his back.

dilemma.

Zhang Dabiao didn't give him a chance to catch his breath before delivering a second blow—

"Also, you need to make it clear what the standards are, how many meat dishes and how many vegetable dishes. Don't bring out three plates of pickled vegetables and a bowl of porridge and say it's a treat, that won't do."

Liu Guangqi was suppressing a laugh, his shoulders shaking. Hu Zi had already turned away from everyone, his shoulders also trembling. Da Tou was expressionless, but his ears were red. Liu Gen covered his mouth with his hand, pretending to cough.

Several neighbors in the courtyard who were watching the commotion also laughed. The laughter wasn't loud, but it was solid.

Yan Jiecheng understood that these guys were setting a trap for his father, and he was happy to see his father embarrassed, so he didn't say anything.

Who doesn't know Yan Bugui's style? At Yan Jiecheng's wedding, the slices of meat on the table were so thin they could be seen through, and the soy sauce was diluted with water three times. The whole table of people ate as if they hadn't eaten anything at all.

Yan Bugui's face turned a deep liver color.

He was caught in a dilemma, facing both public and private strife. To his left was his son undermining him, and to his right was Zhang Dabiao wielding a knife.

He gritted his teeth.

"Alright!" Yan Bugui raised his voice, "If—I mean if—my daughter-in-law gets pregnant, I, as her father-in-law, will treat everyone! Two tables! Four meat dishes, four vegetable dishes, two cold dishes, and one soup per table! Just like Xu Damao's standard!"

Zhang Dabiao, Xu Damao, and the others' eyes lit up. They had been waiting for Yan Bugui to say those words!