Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

The next morning, just as the sun rose, my father got up early and got to work with several uncles and elders. They carefully retrieved the wolf pelts, which had been soaking in wood ash water for a whole day and night, and then hung them on bamboo poles to dry. After special treatment, these wolf pelts became soft and tough, and could be made into various practical items.

Meanwhile, school was in session as usual today. The students arrived at school early, full of anticipation. The excitement from hunting wolves and visiting relatives hadn't yet faded, and the classroom was filled with noise and lively discussion. Gui Xiang and Xing Bao, in particular, couldn't contain their curiosity. They pulled along several other friends who were equally interested in new things, and quietly hid by the classroom door, peeking out and staring intently at their fathers and others outside who were drying wolf pelts.

However, just as they were engrossed in their reading, a soft cough echoed down the corridor. It turned out the eldest brother had discovered the mischievous children. He deliberately cleared his throat as a warning. In an instant, the children let out a piercing scream like startled birds, then scurried back to their seats in a panic, pretending to be serious as they picked up their little sticks and began writing in their sandboxes.

After the eldest brother entered the classroom and the students asked each other questions, he immediately called on the second brother to lead the whole class in reciting the *Three Character Classic* that they had previously learned, written on the stone slab. Instantly, the classroom resounded with a neat and loud reading voice: "At the beginning of life, man is inherently good..." This clear and melodious reading seemed to possess a certain magic, causing the father and several uncles, who were working, to involuntarily stop what they were doing and listen quietly. Their faces beamed with satisfied and delighted smiles, as if they could accurately distinguish their own child's unique voice from among the many sounds!

It wasn't until the sun was high in the sky that the two constables sent by the village arrived, pushing a wheelbarrow. My father and uncles had already carefully folded the dried wolf pelts. Seeing the constables arrive, they went forward to hand them over. The constables checked the pelts for their condition, signed the document, and gave a few brief instructions that "the reward will be delivered as soon as possible." Then they loaded the pelts onto the oxcart and slowly drove away. My father stood at the gate of the courtyard, watching the oxcart disappear into the distance. He breathed a sigh of relief, turned to thank his uncles, and then went back inside to continue his work.

The day passed quietly and uneventfully: Xingbao and his friends learned to read with their older brother Yanbang, recited the Three Character Classic in unison, and practiced writing characters stroke by stroke in the sandbox; during breaks, they gathered in the yard to chase and play, occasionally chatting about the fun they had had hunting wolves a few days ago, their laughter filling the small courtyard. When school ended, the children went home, and the day's liveliness gradually returned to tranquility.

Night slowly fell, enveloping the mountain village in silence, with only a few scattered lights flickering in the darkness. Xingbao stood alone in the backyard, gazing up at the northeastern night sky—a place of deep darkness, yet one that seemed to conceal a storm he could foresee. He silently calculated: today was July 7th, the 29th of the fifth month in the lunar calendar; a nationwide upheaval was brewing in the distance. "The Japanese should have already started their drills. In a few hours, the first shot that will change everything will be fired…"

"When I wake up tomorrow, everything will be different. Even though this small mountain village is isolated, the changes won't be long in coming, at most a day or two..." Xingbao murmured softly, his brows gradually furrowing. He knew clearly that what followed would inevitably be conscription and grain requisition: the able-bodied men of the village would be drafted into the army, and the already meager harvest from the land would be forcibly taken away. "They say 'poor mountains and bad waters breed unruly people,' but the land only produces so little, barely enough for a family to feed. Now they're going to 'cut flesh' from them, who can accept that?"

Thinking of this, Xingbao's eyes grew heavy: to survive, the villagers would inevitably resort to all sorts of schemes, and the superficial harmony of the past would likely be completely shattered; quarrels and suspicions might become the norm in the village. "This village will never return to its former peace and tranquility..." He clenched his fist, his resolve growing stronger—he must make good use of the spiritual spring space as soon as possible to cultivate more high-yield crops and seize the time to master medicine. Only in this way could he protect his family and those he wanted to protect in the coming chaos.

Just as Xingbao's thoughts were churning and his heart was filled with worries about the future, he heard familiar footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw his father walking slowly towards him, gently patting his head with his rough hand. His voice was gentle but tinged with suspicion: "Didn't I tell you last night not to overthink things? Why are you still so upset?"

Xingbao raised his head, pointed his little finger to the northeastern night sky, and said in a heavy tone, "Dad, I just feel that there is that direction in the picture, something bad is going to happen, it's about to start!" Although he was young, the certainty in his words made his father's heart sink.

The father looked in the direction Xingbao pointed. The night was so thick that he couldn't see the end. He frowned slightly and murmured, "The northeast... the three northeastern provinces... Could it be that the Japanese are about to make a move?" In recent years, news about the Japanese army's movements in the Northeast would occasionally reach the village with travelers, but never before had he felt such a sense of impending danger.

Just as the father and son remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts, the mother's voice suddenly came from the courtyard gate: "What are you two looking at? The food's getting cold, the whole family is waiting for you to eat!" Her voice, carrying the usual warmth, instantly broke the heavy atmosphere in the backyard. The father snapped out of his reverie and gently patted Xingbao's shoulder: "Let's not talk about this now, whatever it is, we'll talk after dinner." With that, he took Xingbao's hand and walked towards the door—at least for now, the lights and the aroma of food inside allowed them to temporarily forget the impending storm outside.

On July 8th, the first day of the sixth lunar month, just as dawn broke, the roosters in the village crowed one after another, waking the sleeping village. As usual, the villagers rose early, carrying hoes and bamboo baskets, and headed to the fields in twos and threes. On the field ridges, people greeted each other, discussing the growth of this year's crops; in the vegetable gardens, women bent over picking fresh vegetables, and occasionally a few crisp laughs could be heard. The whole village was immersed in a peaceful yet busy atmosphere of labor.

The afternoon sun gradually softened, no longer as scorching as at midday. Just as the villagers were still busy in the fields, a commotion suddenly erupted at the village entrance, a mix of hoofbeats and shouts. "People from the district are here! People from the district are here with a letter of commendation!" A child's excited voice shattered the village's tranquility, instantly drawing everyone's attention. Everyone dropped what they were doing and ran towards the village entrance, eager and curious to see what was happening.

The village head, seated in a sedan chair, led the way, followed by a constable from the district on horseback, with two attendants carrying loads on shoulder poles. They slowly made their way from the west of the village to the old site of the large banyan tree in the east, with a large crowd already following behind. The constable dismounted, bowed to the surrounding villagers, and announced loudly, "Fellow villagers, we have come to commend your village's wolf-fighting team for their heroic act of repelling the wolves and protecting the people! The district is awarding you a letter of commendation and two hundred silver dollars as a reward!" As soon as he finished speaking, the villagers erupted in cheers, their faces beaming with pride and joy.

Since the township head was not present, the village head stepped forward, cleared his throat, and said, "Fellow villagers, now that the county's commendation has arrived, let's gather here, read the commendation letter aloud in public, and then distribute the silver dollars so that everyone can share in this honor!" The villagers responded enthusiastically.

Although the old banyan tree is gone, the site remains spacious and flat, still a place where villagers gather and chat. Now, everyone is gathered there, quietly waiting. The village headman takes the letter of commendation from the messenger, unfolds it, and reads it aloud in a loud voice. The letter details the wolf-hunting team's fearless and cooperative actions in the face of a ferocious wolf pack, ultimately successfully driving them away and protecting the lives and property of the villagers. The letter is filled with praise and affirmation for the team. Each exciting part is met with applause from the audience. Xingbao, standing in the crowd, looks at his father's upright back, his heart filled with pride.

After the commendation letter was read aloud, the most anticipated part—distributing the silver dollars—began. The guards neatly arranged two hundred silver dollars on a makeshift wooden table. The silver coins gleamed silver-white in the sunlight, attracting the villagers to crane their necks and look. The village head picked up a silver dollar and announced loudly, "The brothers in the wolf-hunting team deserve the most credit for this wolf hunt! Except for the captain, each member will receive one silver dollar!" He then called out the names of the wolf-hunting team members one by one, calling them forward to receive their dollars. The team members who received their dollars beamed with joy, clutching the silver dollars tightly as if holding a heavy weight of honor.

Then, the village head looked at Xingbao's father and said, "Xingbao's father, as the captain of the wolf-hunting team, has commanded effectively and led from the front. His contributions are the most outstanding, so he deserves ten silver dollars!" The father stepped forward, accepted the ten silver dollars with both hands, bowed to the village head and villagers, and his eyes were full of gratitude. Next, the clan elders and Chief Wang each received two silver dollars to recognize their support and assistance during the wolf-hunting.

When the villagers read out that fifteen silver dollars would be given to Grandpa as compensation, they felt it was a bit too little; the remaining half-pig was difficult to sell unless there was a holiday. This compensation was based on market price, which was understandable. Grandpa accepted the silver dollars without a second thought.

Finally, the village head looked at the remaining fifteen silver dollars on the table and said, "Let's discuss what to do with these fifteen silver dollars. The busy farming season is approaching, and this land at the site of the old banyan tree is just sitting idle. Why don't we use a few dollars to turn this place into a grain drying ground, making it convenient for everyone to dry their grain? The rest of the silver dollars will be entrusted to Chief Wang for safekeeping. If the village needs anything done in the future, such as repairing bridges and roads, or helping villagers in need, we'll use the money from here. What do you all think?" The villagers all agreed and clapped their hands in approval. For a time, the site of the old banyan tree (later renamed the grain drying ground) was filled with laughter and joy.

After distributing the silver dollars, the father walked over to Xingbao, patted his head, and said with a smile, "As the team leader, I still have to go to a few villages to deliver the reward money to the other team members who participated in the wolf hunt. When I get back, we'll go buy land." Xingbao nodded vigorously, his heart filled with warmth as he watched his father's busy figure.

Thus, the long-running wolf-hunting operation finally came to a successful conclusion, and the villagers' lives returned to normal. This commendation from the district, along with the villagers' jointly decided use of the ocean, not only testified to everyone's courage in overcoming difficulties together, but also filled the entire village with a strong sense of community and belonging.

As darkness fell, the village was enveloped in night, with only the faint light filtering through the windows of each house, outlining scattered silhouettes in the darkness. At that moment, a slightly heavy footstep came from outside the courtyard gate. Xingbao was the first to react, immediately getting up and running to the door—sure enough, it was his father dragging his weary body back. The corners of his clothes were covered in dust, and beads of sweat still clung to his forehead. Even his usually straight back was slightly hunched.

Xingbao quickly turned and ran into the kitchen, scooped a bowl of cooled tea from the tea barrel, added it to the spring water, and hurriedly handed it to his father: "Dad, drink some water and rest!" His father took the bowl, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp. The icy tea slid down his throat, slightly relieving his exhaustion. His mother, watching her father like this, her eyes slightly reddened, and said with heartache, "You're so impatient! Couldn't you have gone to deliver the reward money tomorrow? Running around to four villages in half an afternoon, your legs must be killing you!"

Father put down his empty teacup, rubbed his aching knees, and explained with a wry smile, "We had an agreement with the neighboring village's wolf-hunting team that I'd deliver their share of the reward as soon as it arrived. I originally thought it would be someone from the township who would come, and we could set off to deliver the reward money this morning. I didn't expect it to be people coming directly from the district, which delayed us for most of the day. We made a big promise, and we can't break our word! Back when I was in the army, I was never in such a rush!"

"Look at you, so capable! What if you wear yourself out?" Mother scolded playfully, then turned and headed towards the kitchen. "Hurry up and wash your hands and eat. The whole family is waiting for you. We've already reheated the food twice."

"Third Sister, I'll eat later, you all eat first." Father waved his hand, his tone somewhat urgent, "I have something to do, I need to go find my father-in-law for help, I might be back a little late tonight." Perhaps because he had drunk the spiritual spring water earlier, his body recovered quickly, although he looked tired, his eyes were very clear, and after speaking he got up and walked out.

"What's the rush? Can't we wait until tomorrow morning?" the mother asked, chasing after him as she went out, her voice full of worry.

"It's a big deal about buying land, it can't be delayed! I'll tell you the details when I get back!" The father didn't turn around, he just waved his hand, and his figure quickly disappeared into the night, heading towards his maternal grandfather's house.