Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival, the fifteenth of August. In the past, my elder brother would always prepare gifts to visit and thank the old schoolteacher on holidays. However, after the recent Japanese bombing, the village was in turmoil, and the old schoolteacher had long since moved away from the village to his old house in the remote mountains. The mountain road there was rugged and remote, and the journey was not short. My elder brother had never been there before, and it would be inconvenient for him to go there rashly. After thinking it over, he decided to forgo the custom of visiting and instead stay at home to help his father pick camphor tree leaves for Xingbao, in preparation for refining borneol.

As dawn broke and the morning mist lingered, the mountain air was crisp and moist, carrying the sweet scent of grass and trees. Father and eldest brother rose early to prepare the necessary tools: a sturdy safety rope, a large bamboo basket, and a homemade wooden ladder. Then, they led Xingbao and Guixiang to the camphor tree in the courtyard. This tree was a mother tree that Xingbao had specially preserved and nurtured. He carefully tended to it, never pruning or trimming it, allowing it to grow naturally. Because it was still young, the trunk wasn't very thick, the branches were slender, and it grew quite tall, requiring extra care and caution when harvesting.

Xingbao pointed to the layers of branches and leaves in the tree canopy, carefully instructing the two men to distinguish the picking standards. His tone was earnest and meticulous: "Dad, eldest brother, look carefully. The leaves on the tree that are round, plump, thick, and full have the highest essential oil content and can be used to extract high-purity borneol; those thin, long, and slender leaves have slightly weaker medicinal properties, and the borneol extracted from them is also of lower purity. When picking them, be sure to separate them and do not mix them. Also, remember, do not remove all the leaves. Be sure to leave about 20% of the branches and leaves to preserve the tree's vitality and not affect its subsequent growth and development."

Upon hearing this, Father and the eldest brother looked up and examined the tree canopy and leaves, carefully comparing and distinguishing them. The difference in shape between round and pointed leaves was very obvious, easily distinguishable at a glance. Without much effort, the two nodded in understanding and firmly remembered the picking rules. The eldest brother, agile and nimble, carried a small bamboo basket on his back and carefully climbed to a branch in the middle of the trunk to stand firmly. Father, on the other hand, steadily set up the A-frame ladder, carefully securing the safety rope around his waist to ensure a stable footing and no risk of falling, before raising his hands to begin picking the branches and leaves. Under the tree, Xingbao and Guixiang held the ladder steadily on either side, firmly securing its center of gravity to prevent swaying and slipping, silently cooperating with the two in picking.

The family worked together efficiently, each with a clear division of labor, busily selecting and picking plump, thick, high-quality camphor tree leaves, separating the good from the bad, and neatly placing them into their baskets. Their fingers moved deftly and efficiently, and in no time, they had harvested several baskets full of fresh leaves. When their neighbor, Brother Dashan, arrived and offered to help, Xingbao and Guixiang were finally able to relieve themselves of their work.

The two tidied themselves up, prepared the Mid-Autumn Festival gifts they had made in advance, and were ready to set off to visit their maternal grandfather's and master's homes to offer their greetings. As for Mr. Wang from Sanmin Middle School, their father had already made arrangements. A few days ago, when their elder brother passed through the village delivering a letter, he asked him to take a laying hen as a gift to express their apologies. He explained that the village's post-disaster reconstruction was a complicated matter, and the family was currently too busy to visit. They would make a special trip to thank Mr. Wang after the village was repaired and everything was settled.

Xingbao carefully arranged the prepared gifts, including the hen and mooncakes to be given away, as well as the repaired non-slip shoe soles to be presented to his master. He then placed them securely on Heitan's back, preparing to set off with Guixiang. Unexpectedly, Xiaoweibao came running over, clinging tightly to Guixiang's arm, his innocent face looking up with expectant eyes, pleading, "Sister Xiangxiang, I want to give gifts to Grandma and Master too! I want to ride Heitan too!"

Xingbao pondered for a moment upon hearing this. His father and elder brother were staying home today to gather the remaining camphor tree branches and leaves, while his mother had to tend the shop and manage household chores, leaving her little time to constantly watch over the mischievous and restless Weibao. With the current unstable situation, a steady stream of refugees were fleeing from the provincial capital, mostly avoiding the main roads vulnerable to bombing and opting instead for the old stone-paved streets. The old streets were now a chaotic mix of people. Furthermore, the village was filled with houses undergoing post-disaster reconstruction, with demolition, repairs, and piles of debris creating a messy and dangerous scene. Weibao was young and extremely playful; if left alone at home, he could easily sneak out and get lost, causing him great concern.

After weighing the options, Xingbao said, "Sister, let's take him with us. We'll be back soon after delivering the gifts, so it'll be quick and easy. Having him around will save Mother from worrying at home."

Gui Xiang nodded in agreement, "Alright then, I'll go tell Mother." As she spoke, she looked down at Wei Bao, who was clinging to her body, and earnestly instructed him, "Wei Bao, you must behave well when we go out later. Don't run around. There are many people outside. If you get taken away by beggars, you'll never be able to go home again and never see your parents and us again."

Wei Bao quickly hugged Gui Xiang's hand tightly, nodding his head vigorously, his eyes filled with genuine fear, and obediently replied, "Sister Xiang Xiang, you must hold my hand tightly, I don't want to go with the beggars."

Although he was a playful child, he had witnessed the plight of refugees fleeing the country. Those fleeing with their families were all emaciated, ragged, and covered in dust; many children bore scrapes and bruises of varying depths, looking particularly pitiful. In the past, Wei Bao, never stingy, would always offer cooked sweet potatoes and dried sweet potatoes from home to the fleeing children, and would eagerly pester Xing Bao and Gui Xiang, begging them to treat the wounded refugees. Having witnessed the tragic plight of the displaced and heard the repeated warnings from his family, he had already internalized the dangers of going out. He knew that running around recklessly and following strangers would lead to homelessness, and he was extremely wary.

A short while later, Gui Xiang returned with Wei Bao. Judging from the little guy's expression, his mother had clearly agreed to let him go with her to deliver the gifts. Xing Bao, pulling Hei Tan along, said to Gui Xiang, "Sister, you climb up first, then I'll carry Wei Bao up."

The siblings' two years of practice had paid off; riding a donkey was effortless for them. After Xingbao lifted Weibao onto the donkey and placed him in front of Guixiang, the little guy happily imitated Guixiang and Xingbao's usual method, loudly directing Heitan: "Heitan, hurry up, giddy up! Giddy up!" Fortunately, Xingbao didn't intend to ride on it himself, and instead held onto Heitan, preventing it from running away!

My maternal grandfather's house was very close, just a few steps away. From afar, I could see my maternal grandmother and aunt sitting in front of their house, skillfully spinning hemp thread. In recent years, wartime supplies were scarce, and pure cotton cloth was hard to find on the market, with most of it being purchased and requisitioned by the army. Very few families still grew cotton. Fortunately, many farmers in the countryside grew ramie. Ramie thread and cloth could be used to pay taxes and to make clothes. They were also strong, durable, and not easily damaged, making them the most important source of clothing for ordinary people at the time.

The linen was rough and stiff, making newly made clothes feel uncomfortable, so it was usually only worn by adults. Earlier, the family had some leftover fabric from wrapping the rice transplanter, enough to make a new outfit for each person, with the rest specially saved for the youngest, Wei Bao. Now, Xing Bao's jacket was worn out and too short, no longer fitting. The old clothes his second brother sent back, while barely covering him, were stained and grime-covered, rough and unsuitable for going out to practice medicine or accompany his master on errands. His grandmother had kept this in mind and prepared the materials early this year, intending to sew a proper linen jacket for Xing Bao herself.