Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

As evening approached, I could see my grandfather, uncle, and father carrying heavy loads of sweet potatoes from afar—two bamboo baskets overflowing with red-skinned sweet potatoes, bending the carrying poles slightly under their weight. The sweet potatoes were still covered in fresh soil, exuding a sweet aroma. My grandfather's family had started harvesting sweet potatoes these past two days, and my father, my eldest brother, and my second brother had been helping out whenever they had free time. Today, they finally finished harvesting the last sweet potato field.

Xingbao and Guixiang, who were sitting in the corridor reading, immediately closed their books and ran over when they heard the familiar footsteps, sweetly calling out, "Grandpa! Daddy! Uncle!" The two followed him all the way to their grandfather's house, occasionally reaching out to help carry the load, but their grandfather stopped them with a smile, saying, "Slow down, don't fall. The sweet potatoes are heavy, you don't need to help."

Upon arriving at Grandpa's courtyard, Uncle and Dad put down their loads and began spreading the sweet potatoes on a pre-laid layer of straw—they needed to air dry before they spoiled. Xingbao and Guixiang joined in to help, imitating the adults as they picked up the scattered sweet potatoes and arranged them neatly. Xingbao stood on tiptoe, trying to place the large sweet potatoes on top, but almost knocked over the smaller ones next to him. Guixiang held the sweet potatoes and placed them on the straw pile, her movements slow and clumsy, always ending up with them crooked. Their awkward antics amused Grandpa, making him laugh heartily, even smoothing out the wrinkles around his eyes.

Grandpa wiped the dirt off his hands, walked over to the two little ones, and looked at them, who were busy and sweating profusely. His eyes were full of affection: "Xingbao, Guixiang, the Mid-Autumn Festival is the day after tomorrow. After the Mid-Autumn Festival, it will be your fourth birthday. If you want to eat something, just tell Grandpa and Grandpa will make it for you."

Upon hearing this, Gui Xiang's eyes lit up immediately, as if she had discovered a treasure. She turned around, picked up a round little sweet potato from the bamboo basket beside her, ran to her grandfather, held the sweet potato high, and said, "Grandpa, I want to eat red eggs!"

Xingbao couldn't help but laugh—Guixiang was so honest! He remembered how his older brothers used to get two red eggs on their birthdays, while Guixiang only got one. She would always watch them eat with longing, her mouth still covered in yolk crumbs, clearly resentful. Now that it was finally his and Guixiang's turn to celebrate their birthdays, they could finally eat two red eggs openly.

Grandpa reached out to touch Guixiang's head, but as soon as he touched her soft hair, he remembered that his hands were still covered in mud and he was afraid of getting the child's clothes dirty. He quickly withdrew his hand, smiled, and touched his beard: "Okay, okay, yes, yes! It's your birthday, so not only can you eat two red eggs, but your older brothers and sisters will also get one each!" Guixiang jumped up happily upon hearing this, her little braids swaying. She turned around and ran to help arrange the sweet potatoes, her enthusiasm even greater.

Xingbao ran over and gently tugged at his grandfather's sleeve: "Grandpa, can I ask you something?"

Grandpa became interested, moved a small stool from inside the house, sat down, and patted the empty seat next to him: "Oh? Does Xingbao still have questions for Grandpa? Sit here and ask away."

Xingbao sat down next to his grandfather, leaned closer, and whispered, "Grandpa, I just wanted to ask you how you compost. The rice in my experimental field in front of my house is in the heading stage and needs topdressing, but we've almost run out of farmyard manure. I heard that using fresh manure directly can burn the seedlings. I don't know what to do."

At the mention of farming, Grandpa instantly perked up, sat up straight, and his eyes gleamed with expertise as he began to explain in detail: "When I compost, I start right after the late rice harvest—I cut down all the weeds and straw in the field, mix in some manure from the pigsty, dig a deep pit by the edge of the field, bury it there, water it thoroughly, and let it slowly ferment and decompose. When we plant early rice the following year, it can be used as base fertilizer, providing sufficient nutrients without harming the seedlings. After the early rice harvest, we can only apply well-rotted manure, which is pig and cow manure collected in a corner, covered with straw, and left to ferment for a while. When using it, we mix in some fine soil so it won't burn the seedlings."

As he spoke, Grandpa pointed to a corner of the yard: "Look over there, I've piled up some dried weeds. We'll burn them to ashes and scatter them in the vegetable garden later; the vegetables will grow incredibly fast! But the ashes can't be mixed with manure, it'll reduce the fertilizer's effectiveness." My uncle and father, who were nearby, chimed in from time to time—My uncle laughed and said, "Last year I tried burying kitchen waste in the vegetable garden, and the vegetables grew lush and green in just a few days, even more vigorously than if we'd fertilized them!" My father added, "Before, when we made compost at home, we'd put some old vegetable leaves and rotten sweet potatoes in the pit to speed up the decomposition and avoid wasting anything."

Xingbao listened very attentively, nodding occasionally to remember what he was saying. After his grandfather finished speaking, he asked again, "Grandpa, I want to make some fertilizer specifically for the rice, the kind that's quick to use. How do I do that? I originally thought of using the ditch by the gate, but that's not only bad for our family, but it also smells bad, and I'm afraid the villagers will gossip about it."

Grandpa stroked his chin, pondered for a moment, and then his eyes suddenly lit up: "The ditch is really no good, it's dirty and bothers people. Luckily, we have a water vat with a big hole in it. We patched it up with cement before, so it doesn't leak anymore, but it's still not good for holding water. It's perfect for making compost! You can take it back later and put it in the vegetable garden behind the house. Put straw, old vegetable leaves, and chicken manure in it, water it, and cover it with a layer of soil. In about ten days, it will have good compost! This way, it won't take up much space, the fertilizer effect will be sufficient, and it won't smell too bad."

Upon hearing this, Xingbao jumped up from the stool with joy, grabbed his grandfather's hand and shook it, "Thank you, Grandpa! With this water vat, I can fertilize the rice, and it will definitely make the rice ears grow fuller!" His father smiled and said, "Then I'll help you carry the water vat back later. You and your siblings can go cut some weeds and collect some leaves, and we'll work together to get the compost pit ready so we can use the fertilizer as soon as possible."

After unloading the sweet potatoes, Grandpa, worried about wasting time, first had Uncle and Dad carry the cement-patched water vat to the vegetable garden behind the kitchen. There was a hole in the garden where they had dug up the banyan saplings, and they buried most of the vat in it. This made it less likely to break and also made it easier for Xingbao to add things or take fertilizer. The two men placed the vat securely and then hurried back to pick out the remaining sweet potatoes. Xingbao and Guixiang, meanwhile, took small shovels and carefully filled the area around the vat with soil, securing it in place. They patted the soil off their hands before finishing their work.

Then, Xingbao slung a small basket over his shoulder, took a sickle, and Guixiang wanted to follow, so Xingbao had her hold Heitan's reins while they carried Xueqiu, and together they walked towards the back mountain—the roadside was full of weeds, perfect for composting. Xingbao hadn't cut grass in years, and looking at the roadside weeds, he couldn't help but smile as he recalled the days he helped his family cut pig feed as a child in his previous life—before, he had to choose tender pig feed, but now, for composting, any weeds could be used, much easier.

Gui Xiang thought cutting grass was fun and insisted on trying it herself, but Xing Bao didn't dare let her actually touch the sickle—this little girl was quite strong now, but she was clumsy, and if she cut her hand, it wouldn't be a minor injury. He could only coax Gui Xiang: "Sister, if you help me watch over Hei Tan and Xue Qiu and don't let them come and cause trouble, that will be a huge help! After I finish cutting the grass, I'll braid a whip for you to play with." As soon as Gui Xiang heard about the grass rabbit, she immediately nodded obediently and stood beside him with Hei Tan by the hand.

But these two little guys were anything but well-behaved—Blackie thought Xingbao was cutting grass for it to eat, so it excitedly ran over to sniff it, only to find it was just old weeds. It immediately became unhappy, swishing its tail and kicking over Xingbao's little basket, scattering weeds all over the ground. Snowball, on the other hand, was curious about everything, running to dig at the roadside soil one minute and chasing butterflies the next. Luckily, it was still small and wouldn't go far. Xingbao, seeing this chaotic scene, was both angry and amused. He could only pick up the grass again while instructing Guixiang, "Keep an eye on them, don't let Blackie cause any more trouble, or I won't make you a grass whip!" Guixiang quickly pulled Blackie aside, gripping the reins tightly, muttering softly, "Blackie, be good, or I'll whip you with the whip later." Under the setting sun, two little people, a donkey, and a dog were busy cutting grass by the roadside, a lively and heartwarming scene.