Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

The two of them worked diligently for most of the day to clean all the equipment, neatly arranging it in a ventilated place to drain and dry, waiting for the distillation and medicinal use the next day. In the blink of an eye, the sky gradually darkened, the sun began to set, and the dim afterglow spread across the mountain road at the entrance of the village. In the distance, the familiar sound of a cartwheel slowly rolling could be heard; it was Dad returning from buying goods in Yongfeng.

Xingbao, with his keen hearing, heard the noise and quickly ran to the backyard, deftly opening the gate to let the cart in. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was watching, he skillfully stuffed three plump, free-range chickens, which he had raised in his private space beforehand, into a sack and quietly tossed it onto the corner of the cart, disguising it as goods his father had brought back from the Yongfeng market. This coordinated operation between father and son was nothing new; they were skilled and their teamwork was seamless. If neighbors or bystanders were watching, they would never let the chickens out, only saying that the Yongfeng market had strict controls and they hadn't been able to buy any poultry; if they wanted chicken for the festival, they would slaughter the chickens and ducks they kept at home, ensuring no one would suspect anything amiss.

This year's Mid-Autumn Festival is unlike any other. Every household in the village is struggling financially. Very few families have ordered mooncakes, and my father only managed to buy a small quantity this time; he couldn't even get a single fancy pastry. The reason is that Yongfeng, as a core grain-producing area in the surrounding region, has always had extremely strict controls. Special personnel are stationed there to patrol and inspect, and the laws are very strict. Local regulations are stringent; any surplus grain must be handed over to the authorities in exchange for grain vouchers. Private sales and trading are strictly prohibited. If anyone is found using grain to make pastries for profit, special personnel will come to thoroughly investigate and search the grain the next day. In serious cases, all stored grain will be confiscated. No one dares to violate the prohibition.

It just so happened to be the eve of the Mid-Autumn Festival. Most grassroots public officials were busy preparing for the holiday, and their duty patrols were lax, leaving them no time for strict control. It was during this rare break that Dad took the risk of secretly bringing back several bushels of rice from Yongfeng. In order to let the neighbors know the legal source of their grain and to avoid suspicion, Xingbao would go to Yongfeng with Dad to transport grain every day after the morning and evening rice harvest. The father and son had also specially written a contract to rent an empty room near the academy. The annual rent was low, and the expenses were minimal. Now that the family had enough money, this room had become an excellent place to stay. It was convenient for Xingbao to secretly transfer grain to his spatial dimension, and if Dad was delayed in Yongfeng and could not return in time, he would have a safe place to stay without having to rush and travel.

Father told Blackie to stop, and casually placed the coarse burlap sack containing the chickens on the ground in the corner of the yard. The sack was tied tightly, but the body of the sack bulged slightly, and the flapping of the chickens inside could be clearly heard. He didn't pay much attention to it, bent down and carried a heavy sack of rice on his back, pressing it firmly on his shoulder, and strode towards the storage room inside the house. Seeing this, Xingbao and Guixiang quickly stepped forward to gather the remaining odds and ends and miscellaneous goods on the cart, each carrying a small stack, and followed closely behind their father inside.

Only little Wei Bao, with his short legs, slowly trotted into the backyard. His eyes swept across the area and immediately fell on the sack that was swaying on the ground. Children are the most curious and the boldest, so he immediately went over and touched the bulging sack. When his palm touched the warm, fresh touch, his eyes lit up with surprise.

"It's chicken! Mom! Dad bought chicken again!" Wei Bao shouted excitedly, his little face tilted upwards. Drooling unconsciously streamed down his face; his mind was filled with thoughts of his mother's stir-fried chicken and braised chicken pieces. He couldn't suppress his joy at the prospect of meat during the festival. He gripped the edge of the burlap sack tightly with his little hands, dragging it into the house with all his might, while turning back to cheerfully call out to the yard, "Snowball! Come help! Help me pull the chicken back; Mom will stir-fry chicken for dinner!"

Upon hearing the sound, Snowball immediately darted over, grabbed the other corner of the sack, and pulled backward with all its might. With the man and dog working together, the force suddenly increased, and without noticing the imbalance, Wei Bao slipped and landed hard on his bottom on the sack.

The heavy body suddenly slammed down, causing the three chickens inside the sack to squawk and flap their wings violently. Wei Bao only paused for a brief moment, his buttocks slightly numb, but he paid no attention to the pain. Instead, he found it novel and interesting, figuring out a new way to play, focusing only on urging the snowball in front of him: "Faster! Pull harder! Pull me along!"

In an instant, snowballs carrying sacks, children sitting on sacks, chickens wrapped in burlap sacks—they all rushed forward, stumbling and staggering, heading straight from the backyard to the main room. From the backyard to the main room, one had to cross several small steps; the path was uneven, scattered with small mounds of dirt, making the journey bumpy and rugged. Wei Bao gripped the burlap sack tightly with both hands, swaying from side to side, but he stubbornly refused to let go, barely managing to steady himself and avoid falling flat on his face.

This strange, large procession rushed into the main room. Only when Snowball reached its mother and came to a steady stop did the jolting abruptly cease, and a sudden, sharp pain shot through Wei Bao's numb bottom. Wei Bao belatedly realized what was happening, and his pent-up frustration exploded. He opened his mouth and burst into loud, aggrieved sobs, tears and snot streaming down his face until it was completely covered.

Looking at the burlap sack at my feet, it lay quietly on the ground. The clucking of the chickens had completely disappeared, and the sack was no longer shaking. It must have been jolted and dragged at high speed all the way, which had made the three plump chickens dizzy and motionless.

Seeing Wei Bao crying so pitifully, his mother quickly rushed forward and hugged him tightly. She gently rubbed his reddened bottom, her voice a mixture of heartache and exasperation as she softly scolded him, "You naughty little rascal, you're so reckless! Who lets a dog drag them around in a sack? You're covered in bruises from the bumpy ride, now you know how painful it is! You'll do anything for a bite to eat!"

Snowball, seemingly understanding, knew it had caused trouble. With its ears drooping and tail tucked between its legs, it whimpered softly and obediently circled its mother and Wei Bao. Occasionally, it would raise its front paws, stand upright, and cautiously approach Wei Bao, its warm tongue gently licking Wei Bao's reddened little hand, its appearance docile and ingratiating, as if sincerely admitting its mistake.

The eldest brother, who was in the front yard looking after the bamboo house and grading students' homework, heard loud crying coming from inside. Worried, he quickly turned back to check on the baby. He knelt down and gently comforted the crying Wei Bao, trying to soothe him patiently for a while, but the little guy's heart was brimming with grievances, and his crying didn't subside at all.

Seeing that coaxing him was ineffective, Guixiang suddenly remembered that her father had brought back several strings of sweet and sour candied hawthorns from Yongfeng. She quickly ran to find them; the bright red candied hawthorns coated in sugar were shiny and tempting. She handed them to Weibao. The sweet and sour fruity aroma instantly filled his nose, and the enticing sweetness dispelled his grievances. Weibao stared at the candied hawthorns for a moment, then finally stopped crying, sobbing as he reached out to take them. His little face instantly brightened, and he completely stopped crying and smiled.