Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

The excitement of the apprenticeship ceremony hadn't completely faded from the mountain village, and the villagers still often chatted in the inn about how "the two children are going to learn medicine from Old Yang." But news from the battlefield shattered this tranquility one ordinary noon with the arrival of a weary traveler. The sun was blazing, its harsh rays baking the road, casting a blinding white light, and even the air felt scorching. The villagers who had been repairing the road had just taken a break under a bamboo shed, fanning themselves with their clothes, sweat streaming down their faces. A traveler carrying a faded blue cloth bundle, his trousers stained with yellow mud, staggered open the inn's wooden door, his hoarse voice filled with exhaustion: "Innkeeper, a bowl of cool tea to quench my thirst!"

The father quickly scooped a bowl of cooled tea from the tea barrel and handed it to the traveler. The traveler took the rough porcelain bowl, tilted his head back, and gulped down half of it before wiping the water from his mouth and letting out a long sigh. Once he had recovered, he chatted casually with the villagers gathered around him. Suddenly, he casually mentioned, "On August 13th, the National Revolutionary Army and the Japanese Army went to war in Shanghai! Guess what? Our air force, in its first combat mission, actually won!"

These words were like a pebble thrown into still water, instantly silencing the noisy shop. Grandma, who was mending old clothes in the corner, suddenly stopped, her fingers gripping the fabric, her hand trembling slightly as a silver thread slipped from her fingers and fell onto the fabric without her noticing. Father put down his abacus, the beads still suspended in mid-air, and hurried to the traveler, his voice filled with barely concealed urgency and disbelief: "Are you telling the truth? The air force really won?"

The traveler nodded emphatically, his eyes instantly gleaming with excitement: "Of course it's true! I've been traveling all the way from Changsha, and people in the villages and towns along the way have been saying that our planes were locked in aerial combat with Japanese enemy planes, shooting down several in succession and even sinking a few Japanese warships! I've always heard people boast about how powerful the Japanese planes were, but I never imagined our air force was so capable. It really makes us Chinese proud!"

The news spread like wildfire throughout the mountain village, seeping through the cracks in the shop door and the bamboo awning. Villagers who had been resting by the roadside gathered around, and even the children who were about to finish school with their older brother were drawn by the commotion. They peeked out from behind the doorframe, their eyes filled with curiosity, and then, without waiting for their brother to announce the end of school, dropped their sandboxes and ran out. Xingbao and Guixiang, among a group of teenagers, spread their arms wide, mimicking a diving airplane, running wildly across the threshing ground at the village entrance. Their clear shouts carried on the wind: "We have airplanes! We'll drive away the Japanese devils' planes!" Laughter echoed in the sunlight, dispelling much of the usual somber atmosphere caused by the war. The old people sat on their doorsteps, their pipes forgotten to be lit, long-lost smiles appearing on their wrinkled faces as they murmured to each other, "Good! We've finally won a victory! It wasn't easy! Now we can finally catch our breath!"

But this excitement didn't last long in the mountain village. Just three or four days later, another traveler passed by, bringing with him a chilling aftermath—as the battle in Shanghai escalated, the Japanese deployed more troops and aircraft. Many air force soldiers, piloting their planes, braved gunfire to charge at enemy aircraft, ultimately sacrificing their lives in the sky, never to return. When the words "heroic sacrifice" were slowly uttered by the traveler, the previously bustling village entrance instantly fell into a deathly silence. The children stopped running, standing there blankly, watching the adults' suddenly solemn expressions, even their breathing unconsciously becoming softer. Grandma quietly turned away, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes with her sleeve, repeatedly murmuring, "Such a good child, gone just like that… And my Ming is on the front lines, will he…?" Xingbao stood there, looking up at the sky—a few white clouds drifted slowly across the azure expanse, so quiet it seemed as if no fierce air battle had ever occurred. He silently murmured in his heart, "Soaring ambition, hero, rest in peace!" But a chill couldn't help but rise in his heart: we didn't have many planes to begin with, and now with the loss of heroes and aircraft, the battles to come will be even more brutal!

During the travelers' rest stops, they brought intermittent reports of the battle on the ground: the fighting in Shanghai was exceptionally fierce. Although our soldiers fought with the determination to die, forming a defensive line with their flesh and blood, they were unable to gain the upper hand, and the number of casualties continued to rise. Afterwards, when the villagers mentioned the "Shanghai battle," their faces lost their previous excitement, replaced by barely concealed worry. Occasionally, someone would gaze at the road leading out of the village and sigh heavily: "I wonder how the troops our county sent, and the Central Army where Youming and Youde are, are doing now? Are they safe...?"

Days passed by as they worried about the front lines, but Xingbao and Guixiang's lives remained regular. Every morning, they followed their elder brother to the school to read the *Three Character Classic* and the *Thousand Character Classic*, practicing writing stroke by stroke. In the afternoons, they studied medical books, and if Yang Langzhong had time, he would teach them to recognize herbs and memorize prescriptions in a small classroom. Yang Langzhong would point to the honeysuckle they had picked and teach them to identify its characteristics: "vines growing, flowers initially white then turning yellow, petals covered with fine hairs." He would also crush dried loquat leaves and have them smell them closely, remembering the trick: "For coughs, use roasted loquat leaves; raw loquat leaves are too cooling." Only after finishing these tasks would Xingbao have a spare moment to quietly enter the spiritual spring space to tend to his crops.

The space was now a scene of abundant harvest: several orange trees were laden with bright orange fruit, larger than ordinary oranges, with smooth, shiny skin. The family had picked some to try, and the sweet and juicy taste had been praised by everyone. The jujubes on the jujube trees were also ripe, the plump fruit glowing red, crisp and sweet with every bite. Mother had intended to dry the extra jujubes for storage, but because they were too large and she couldn't explain their origin, she couldn't find a safe, dry place. She could only have Xingbao store them in the space for now, and they would make further plans later. The tea seedlings that had been replanted earlier had also sprouted tender green buds, but the yield was still small. Xingbao planned to have his father process them into tea leaves once they had collected more.

News of the wolf-hunting team spread throughout the district. Previously, the team had successfully eradicated wolf packs in the surrounding area, protecting villagers and crops. The members not only received substantial rewards such as money, grain, and cloth, but also gained considerable prestige in various villages and towns within the district. Riding this wave of success, the district began to intentionally expand the wolf-hunting team. Notices posted at village entrances read, "Recruiting strong men to protect homes and property; excellent benefits." However, it was obvious to anyone with a discerning eye that this wasn't a genuine recruitment drive for wolf-hunting members; it was clearly a disguised form of conscription, and without any resettlement allowance.

A few days later, new arrangements came from the district: the original wolf-hunting team had been officially split into six smaller teams, each responsible for the "wolf-prevention mission" in one township. The six men leading the teams were the same six strong men that the district had specially sent to the village some time ago for my father to train. It turned out that the district had planned for my father to train and hone these six men first, and after the wolf-hunting team achieved results, they would be sent to lead teams in various townships.

Because of his father's words, he was spared from offending six township heads. At the same time, because of those words, Township Head Liu gained five favors and a wolf-hunting team for nothing! All he gave was a letter of recommendation to take the exam at the county middle school, which almost ruined his older brother's life!