Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

Just then, the sound of clinking bowls and chopsticks came from the kitchen. The eldest and second eldest brothers carried out a heavy rice cooker, its body wrapped in thick coarse cloth to prevent heat loss. The eldest brother, Da Shan, followed closely behind, carrying a stack of clean, rough porcelain bowls. They carefully placed the rice cooker against the tea barrel in the corner. The second eldest brother reached out and lifted the lid, releasing a rich, sweet aroma of sweet potatoes mixed with the fragrance of white rice. The rising steam filled the room instantly, dispelling the faint scholarly atmosphere and gradually quieting the previously noisy room. Many people subconsciously stopped talking, their noses twitching slightly as they looked towards the source of the aroma. The second eldest brother picked up a large bowl and used chopsticks to scoop out the soft, orange-red sweet potato chunks one by one from the cooker, placing them on an empty plate beside him. The steam grew stronger, and the sweet aroma made everyone's mouths water.

Several girls near the window were the first to succumb to the enticing aroma. They stood up and ran over, surrounding the second brother with smiles in their eyes, asking, "Little brother, your sweet potatoes smell so good! Is this some treat for us?"

Surrounded by several unfamiliar girls, the second brother's face instantly turned bright red. He awkwardly gripped his chopsticks and stammered, "Sisters, these are some dishes we prepared ourselves. If you like them, you can help yourselves." He then stepped aside, gesturing for them to take whatever they wanted.

"Thank you, little brother!" the girl with short, ear-length hair, who was leading the group, said with a smile. She casually pulled a chopstick from the holder, gently stuck a piece of sweet potato in it, blew on it, carefully took a small bite, and closed her eyes to savor it. The next second, her eyes lit up, and she opened them, praising repeatedly, "Mmm! It's so delicious! Soft, sweet, and without any chewiness. I've never eaten such a delicious sweet potato before. What kind is it?" Seeing this, the other girls also pulled out chopsticks from the holder, each sticking a piece of sweet potato in it. Some stood there to enjoy it, while others returned to the table to share with their companions, all the while muttering about how sweet it was.

The other teachers and students who hadn't tried it were also intrigued by their reactions. They all got up and stepped forward, each taking a piece or two to taste. After tasting it, they all praised it repeatedly. Even the few young masters who had initially looked disdainful and were dressed in fine clothes couldn't resist taking a piece. After tasting it, their expressions softened considerably, and they no longer displayed their arrogant demeanor. Luckily, Second Brother had added enough sweet potatoes to the rice beforehand, otherwise there really wouldn't have been enough for so many people. Xingbao sat by the counter, watching this scene, a slight smile playing on his lips. He secretly calculated in his mind: This is a sure thing. Eating more sweet potatoes will save a lot of rice; it's a win-win situation.

Just then, Sister Shanshan and several aunties came out carrying steaming dishes: stir-fried smoked rabbit with chili peppers, stir-fried shredded potatoes, and stir-fried dried shrimp with pickled cabbage. The aroma of the home-style dishes filled the air, and the table was laden with food. Xingbao and Guixiang quickly put down their books and got up to help serve the guests rice and dishes, working swiftly and efficiently. The gentlemen took out a small jar of wine from their bags, smiling as they pulled their father over, insisting that he drink a few cups with them. During the meal, they kept asking about Xingbao and Guixiang, their words full of praise, especially when they mentioned Xingbao's idea of ​​designing a safety rope and wanting to build a threshing machine.

The eldest brother, second brother, and Brother Dashan gradually had some free time, chatting with the guests and refilling their tea, so Xingbao no longer needed to help. He then went back to the counter and picked up the handwritten book of poems that Guixiang had borrowed. He looked through it and saw that the book contained classic poems, almost identical to the selected poems published in later generations, with annotations in small pen between the lines. The book wasn't thick, but it contained a considerable number of poems. Xingbao flipped through it from beginning to end. He had read most of the poems in his previous life, and with his exceptional memory, he quickly memorized them all. Seeing Xingbao reading, Guixiang stopped clinging to her father and skipped over to look through the book with him. When she encountered unfamiliar characters, she would tug at Xingbao's clothes and ask him quietly.

Just as everyone had finished eating and was gradually putting down their chopsticks to chat, Brother Qianjin, his face red from the cold wind, suddenly pushed open the shop door and strode in. He rubbed his numb hands and cheeks to dispel the chill, his gaze sweeping across the main room before he smiled and called out to his father, who was doing accounts behind the counter, "Hey, Uncle Song, there are so many customers in the shop today! Judging by their appearance, they must be teachers and students from Sanmin Middle School."

When Dad looked up and saw it was Qianjin, he immediately stopped what he was doing with his abacus and said with a smile, "Qianjin, you've finally arrived. It's so cold outside, go to the kitchen and warm up by the fire before you leave."

"Uncle Song, even if you hadn't said anything, I would have had a meal here before leaving. I've been in the cold wind all this way, and I'm so hungry and cold. I really can't take it anymore," Qianjin said with a smile. He reached out and opened the cloth bag he was carrying, took out a stack of letters, carefully searched through them, and after confirming that they were all correct, he stepped forward and handed two of the letters to his father. "There are quite a few letters today, most of them are from Nanjing. This one is for you, and I'd like to trouble you to pass on the other one."

Just then, for some reason, Guixiang suddenly stood up from her chair and shouted at the top of her lungs towards the kitchen, "Mother! Mother! A letter has arrived! It's from Nanjing!"

Father's hand, reaching out to take the letter, froze abruptly, and the smile on his face faded slightly—he knew perfectly well that Mother, fearing he would secretly hide Uncle's letters again, had specifically instructed Guixiang to call her immediately if she found any mail from home. Seeing Father's expression, Qianjin instantly understood the reason, and couldn't help but laugh awkwardly, scratching his head as he said, "Uncle Song, this... I didn't know your family's rules, I didn't mean anything by it..."

Father quickly took the letter, waved his hand, and said with a smile, "It's nothing, it has nothing to do with you. Go to the kitchen and warm yourself by the fire, don't get cold."

No sooner had she finished speaking than her mother, supported by her sister Shanshan, emerged slowly from the kitchen, her pregnant belly bulging. Her face was filled with urgency, and her steps were quicker than usual. She asked, "Dawei, has Ming written to us? Did he send it?"

Father quickly stepped forward, carefully helping Mother to sit down by the counter. He gently comforted her, "Third Aunt, take your time, don't rush. I haven't opened the letters yet. This letter is from Nanjing; judging from the handwriting, it should be from Youming. There's also a letter from Youcai's family. Judging from the situation, Youming and Youcai should be alright in Shanghai. They must have arrived in Nanjing by now, which is why they had time to send letters back to let us know they're safe."