Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

The first batch of teachers and students from Sanmin Middle School arrived almost ten days later than expected. Xingbao had just finished school that noon. His classmates, carrying fire chests and schoolbags identical to Xingbao's, shivered as they left the school store. Xingbao and his sister had barely put down their fire chests when they heard Fugui's voice from outside: "Why are there so many carriages and so many people over there?"

Immediately afterward, Deng Xuewen's voice came over, tinged with uncertainty: "It seems to be someone from Sanmin Middle School that Xingbao mentioned. I saw them from afar once before they sent someone to give us advance notice."

Hearing the voices outside, Xingbao's heart tightened. He rushed out the door and saw that his classmates hadn't gone far, crowding along the roadside, craning their necks to look into the distance. Xingbao followed their gaze and saw eight carriages slowly approaching on the path in the distance. The carriages weren't luxurious, but they were all clean and tidy. Each carriage carried seven or eight people, including young students and older teachers—the teachers and students of Sanmin Middle School, whom he had been waiting for. However, to Xingbao's surprise, there were more than sixty people, more than double what he had expected, compared to the number they had agreed upon! The carriages were now almost at the small banyan tree at the village entrance, getting closer and closer to the canteen. Xingbao didn't have time to run to the bamboo house in front to inform the others, so he could only shout loudly towards the house and the direction of the bamboo house: "Father! Eldest brother! Second brother! Come out quickly! The people from Sanmin Middle School have arrived, so many people, more than sixty!"

Hearing the noise, Father pushed open the door, quickly walked to the entrance, glanced around for a moment, hesitated for a second, and immediately called out to his eldest and second eldest brothers who had just run into the bamboo house, "Yanbang, Yanming, you two hurry over to greet the guests, help unload their luggage, and lead them to the kitchen to rest. Be polite!" Then, noticing the classmates who hadn't left yet by the roadside, he turned to Xuewen and his brother, Xiaohua and her siblings, and Dashan and instructed them, "You guys hurry back too, invite your parents over to help, and also bring over any extra tables and chairs you have. There are definitely not enough tables and chairs for over sixty people." Xingbao and Guixiang didn't dare to delay either. Stepping on the broken straw on the ground, they turned and rushed into the kitchen, quickly boiling water—on such a cold day, serving the teachers and students who had come from afar a pot of hot tea to warm them up and ward off the chill was the proper way to treat guests. In an instant, the kitchen was bustling with activity, adults and children alike doing their jobs, all busy welcoming these guests from afar.

Before long, the initial commotion subsided, and a cacophony of voices, interspersed with occasional coughs, drifted from the direction of the main room. Xingbao stood by the stove, adding firewood. The flames crackled against the stove walls, but he had lost his earlier dexterity, holding the firewood absentmindedly, a sense of disappointment creeping into his heart. The flames in the stove gradually weakened, the embers flickering. Guixiang came over and nudged his arm, urging, "Xingbao, what are you daydreaming about? The guests are all inside and seated. Hurry up and add firewood to keep the fire burning!"

Xingbao snapped out of his daze and quickly added a few pieces of firewood to the stove. Watching the flames rise again and burn brighter, he turned to Guixiang and muttered in a low voice, "Sister, if only they could come this afternoon, we might be able to find some time to borrow a book to read." He was obsessed with copying books, but with so many guests around, he had no chance to approach them and strike up a conversation.

Gui Xiang took two round little sweet potatoes out of her pocket, gently placed them in front of Xing Bao, and then gestured towards the stove with a hint of inquiry in her eyes: "How about we go out and try asking around after we're done? See if those teachers and students are easy to talk to, maybe they'll be willing to lend them to us."

Xingbao's eyes lit up, and he quickly nodded in agreement. He carefully buried the sweet potatoes in the charcoal ash at the edge of the stove, letting them bake slowly in the residual heat. Just then, the water in the pot boiled over, steam rising from the cracks in the lid. He turned to grab the tea canister from the corner when his second brother hurried in from the main room carrying an empty tea bucket. As soon as he entered, he instructed, "Xingbao, don't put the tea leaves directly into the pot to boil. Leave a little water in the pot to make ginger soup. Several of the guests before us have caught a cold and are coughing incessantly; they need some ginger soup to ward off the chill."

Upon hearing this, Xingbao perked up instantly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at his second brother: "Second brother, how about I go and invite Doctor Wang over to prescribe some medicine for them to regulate their condition?" He was secretly calculating, not out of schadenfreude—if the guests agreed to let the doctor prescribe medicine, they would have to stay here to rest and sweat it out after taking the medicine, and wouldn't be able to continue their journey immediately. This would give him ample time to borrow and copy books. The more he thought about it, the happier he became.

The second brother placed the tea barrel by the stove. "Dad just asked. They knew they could get to school before sunset, so they didn't agree and refused to let them stay. They said they would just have a bowl of ginger soup to tide them over and then find a doctor to treat them when they got there."

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over him; Xingbao's energy instantly deflated by half. He walked dejectedly back to the pot, gently lifting the lid to shield himself from the rising steam. Once the steam had dissipated slightly, he secretly added a drop of spiritual spring water. His second brother placed the tea leaves in the tea caddy and scooped in most of the boiling water to steep the tea before going to find ginger to slice. Xingbao then put the lid back on.

The second brother brought over some ginger slices, lifted the pot lid, and put the ginger slices into the pot. The ginger from their own garden was all taken by Xingbao from his spatial storage and watered with spiritual spring water; its potency was much stronger than ordinary ginger, and a bowl of it would definitely make someone sweat. However, for someone suffering from a cold, sweating while traveling would only worsen their condition if exposed to cold wind. Xingbao secretly planned to remind his father to tell the guests later. The second brother covered the pot with the lid, and seeing that the fire in the stove was burning brightly enough, he led Xingbao and Guixiang to the main room to prepare tea for the guests.

Upon entering the main room, a cacophony of voices, coughs, and sniffles filled the air, creating a particularly noisy atmosphere. The second brother placed the tea caddy on the long table in the corner, then arranged the rough porcelain bowls held by Xingbao and Guixiang, before turning back to the kitchen to fetch more bowls and plates. Guixiang deftly placed the bowls onto the tea tray, while Xingbao, carrying the teapot, filled each bowl with about half a bowl of hot tea. At this moment, the eldest brother and Brother Dashan also arrived, carrying a tray full of tea. As they walked to each table, they loudly called out, "Hot water's here! Be careful not to burn yourself!" reminding the guests to make way as they served tea to everyone.

Once all the guests had received their hot tea or ginger soup, Xingbao finally had a chance to observe the group closely. The main room was filled with nine tables and chairs, plus the coachmen tending the horses outside, making a total of seventy people. There were only three braziers in the house, which were prioritized for the guests suffering from severe colds and a few gentlemen to warm themselves. The students were both boys and girls, of varying ages; the older ones were seventeen or eighteen, almost adults, while the younger ones were only twelve or thirteen, sitting timidly next to their companions. Only a few of the older students, still wearing black Zhongshan suits with school badges pinned to their chests, moved between the tables, quietly inquiring about their companions' conditions, seemingly acting as leaders among the students. The rest wore fur coats or various overcoats, which, though dusty and faded from the journey, still exuded a superior quality and an air of nobility that Xingbao had never seen before.