Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

Yi Zhonghai's funeral was still being carried out at a leisurely pace in the courtyard. White banners drooped in the cool early spring breeze, unable to dispel the oppressive grief and the feigned busyness. Most of the people in the courtyard were just there to watch the spectacle, going through the motions; very few were truly concerned. This pervasive, somewhat perfunctory sorrow, compared to the gradually emerging, even somewhat vibrant, scene of the He family in the backyard, seemed like two completely different worlds.

These past two days, He Damin has been busy. On one hand, he's been helping the little girl, Yushui, familiarize herself with the surroundings and teach her how to recognize the houses and find her way around, afraid she might suffer any more grievances. On the other hand, he's also patiently teaching Zhuzi some household chores, such as how to do laundry and how to fold a blanket—this child knows nothing about housework. But most of the time, He Damin is chatting with He Yuzhu. He's like a patient hunter, guiding her little by little, piecing together from Zhuzi's fragmented, sometimes choked-up, narration what the He family has gone through in the past six months.

That evening, the newly papered windows of the He family's room were much brighter than before. The dim light brought a touch of warmth to their hearts. He Yuzhu sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), facing his only relative—his uncle, He Damin. His uncle hadn't said much, just listened quietly, his eyes as calm as a deep pool. But it was precisely this calmness that made the pent-up resentment, anger, and confusion in He Yuzhu's heart, which had been bottled up for so long and still harbored fresh wounds, finally erupt. The feeling was like molten lava, which had been simmering underground, finally finding an outlet and surging forth.

"Uncle," He Yuzhu's voice trembled slightly, tinged with a hazy recollection, his brows furrowed tightly, "After the beginning of spring this year, my father... he's been a little different." He paused, as if organizing his thoughts, or perhaps trying to recall those subtle changes. "My mother has been gone for several years now (Note: Lü Bingxin died in 1944 when Yushui was born), and I know my father has been suffering, always carrying burdens. To be honest, he wasn't particularly attentive to me, but he truly loved Yushui, like the apple of his eye. But he always seemed so sullen, without any dramatic emotional highs or lows, without any great joy or sorrow. Every day was just a routine between the factory canteen and the kitchen, cooking at home, taking care of us, life just passing by uneventfully, a predictable monotony."

He Yuzhu licked his dry, chapped lips, which trembled slightly with nervousness and excitement. He continued, "But starting around the end of February this year, my dad... he suddenly seemed like a different person! Sometimes he would stand in front of the mirror and comb his hair over and over again, fussing for ages; he also started shaving more frequently. Before, he would only shave once every three days, but then he wanted to shave every day. He also started coming home later and later at night. Before, he would come home right around dinnertime, but later he would often come home smelling of alcohol after we had all gone to bed."

At this point, He Yuzhu's face revealed a complex expression, a mixture of confusion, embarrassment, and a hint of unspeakable shame. "A few times, I smelled a... a fragrance on him that I had never smelled before. It wasn't soapy; it was sweet, mixed with the smell of alcohol, and it smelled particularly awful. When I asked him where he had been, he would give vague answers, saying he had dinner with friends. His eyes... how should I put it, sometimes he would suddenly drift off, staring blankly at one spot, and then he would chuckle to himself. His expression was like... like he had found a treasure, as if he had become ten years younger, exuding an indescribable smugness."

"At first, Yushui and I were quite happy," He Yuzhu's voice lowered, carrying a hint of youthful hope. "We felt that Dad had finally recovered from the shadow of Mom's passing and was going to start living a good life again. He would occasionally give me some pocket money so I could take Yushui to buy candy, and he would say, 'Dad might need to go out for a while, so you two stay home and don't run around.'"

He gave a bitter smile, a smile full of bitterness: "But... not long after, I felt something was wrong. He came home less and less often, sometimes not even for a day or two. Even when he did come back, he was always in a hurry, as if home was just an inn for him to rest. It was as if... as if Yushui and I didn't exist in his eyes anymore. He kept talking about that 'White Girl' and how she was, saying how understanding and caring she was, that she understood him better than anyone else... It gave me the creeps. I felt like that 'White Girl' was some kind of vixen, that she had bewitched my dad! At first, I thought he would marry her."

His voice lowered, carrying the sensitivity unique to a teenager, the humiliation of being ignored by a loved one, and deep confusion: "Dad... he seems to have forgotten about me and Yushui. Once, Yushui had a fever, her little face was burning red, and she cried for her dad. I was so worried, I ran to the factory to look for him, but they said he had already left. Later, he didn't come back until midnight, and he still smelled so sweet. I told him Yushui was sick, and he just said 'oh,' took some money out of his pocket, threw it at me, and told me to take Yushui to see a doctor the next day, and then... then he turned around and went out again! At that time, I felt that Dad was getting further and further away from us, and his heart was getting harder and harder. It felt like we weren't his children anymore."

"One day in March," He Yuzhu took a deep breath, his chest heaving as if trying to dredge up the most difficult and unpleasant memories from the depths of his heart, "He suddenly came back with a bundle in his hand and told me that an old friend in Baoding had introduced him to a great job as a head chef at a big restaurant—high pay, good working conditions—and suggested he give it a try. He said he'd settle down first and then send money back as soon as he was settled. He patted Yushui's head, then looked at me, his eyes… a little evasive, avoiding eye contact, but more than that, there was an excitement and eagerness I couldn't describe, like… like he was rushing to some appointment. Then, he left without looking back."

The boy suddenly looked up, his eyes instantly reddening, large tears welling up. His voice was filled with suppressed anger and deep incomprehension: "Yushui and I waited and waited at home. At first, we had some money to buy food, but then the money ran out, and Dad didn't send any news or money back. It was like he'd vanished into thin air! I went to the factory to ask, and they said He Daqing had quit. Then the gossipy people in the yard started talking, saying my dad ran off with a widow from Baoding and abandoned us... I don't believe it! No matter what, my dad can't be this heartless! He's my dad!"

"Uncle Yi gave us travel expenses, so I took Yushui and asked around all the way to Baoding..." The following narrative was similar to what He Damin had heard in bits and pieces before, but now, coming from the mouth of the person involved, the pain was fresher and sharper, as if it had happened just yesterday. Being blocked at the door by that "White Widow," verbally abused, called a burden, and told she didn't know any He Daqing; desperately waiting on the unfamiliar, cold streets, watching people come and go, but none of them were her father; her younger sister Yushui catching a cold on the way, developing a high fever, and she carrying her, helpless and unable to even cry; finally, heartbroken, she returned to Beijing with the last glimmer of hope.

"When I came back," He Yuzhu's voice became numb and hollow, as if he were telling someone else's story, his eyes unfocused, "the house... was robbed. The lock was broken, the house was ransacked, like it had been ransacked. The pair of silver bracelets that Mother left behind, those were her keepsakes! And the few decent clothes we had left, Father's treasured good kitchen knife... all gone!" He paused, his eyes filled with deep weariness and a hint of barely perceptible suspicion, "I don't know who did it. I asked Uncle Yi, and he said he'd ask around to see who took it and have it returned, but no one has admitted it yet. At that time... I didn't have the strength to find out anymore, just surviving was hard enough."

"Later, that was the hardest time," he continued, his tone eerily flat, as if describing a distant hardship unrelated to himself. "We dug for wild vegetables, picked up rotten vegetable leaves at the market, and sometimes had to fight with stray dogs for food... Uncle Yi, you know, Yi Zhonghai from the Intermediate People's Court, would sometimes have an old lady bring over some leftovers."

Mentioning Yi Zhonghai, He Yuzhu's voice paused, carrying a complex and indescribable emotion. "But every time, he would go on and on about it, saying that my father ran away with someone, which was shameful and brought disgrace to the courtyard, saying that my siblings and I were a burden... The Hongbinlou incident made me even more..."

Upon hearing the name "Hongbinlou," He Yuzhu's previously numb eyes showed a noticeable tremor, as if a boulder had been thrown into a calm lake, and pain, resentment, and anger intertwined, almost overflowing. "When my father was alive, he went to great lengths and pulled many strings to get me into Hongbinlou to learn the craft from Master Li Baoguo. Master Li was skilled and upright, but he was strict and demanding of his apprentices. I was hardworking and not afraid of hard work, and my master was willing to teach me something real. After my father passed away, I originally wanted to grit my teeth and persevere, to master the craft so I could support Yushui in the future. But Uncle Yi said that my master sent word that he no longer recognized me as his apprentice. He said that my father had run off with a widow, and my master was ashamed."

The room was silent except for He Yuzhu's suppressed sobs.

He Damin listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the table, making a soft "tap, tap, tap" sound. The rhythm was steady, yet it seemed to carry some invisible force, weighing heavily on his heart. He Daqing's trajectory became clear in his mind: a long period of widowhood, inner repression, and emotional emptiness. After meeting that so-called "White Widow," it was like a withered tree blossoming in spring; he fell head over heels, becoming "love-struck," completely infatuated. He quickly became immersed in it, forgetting all about his children, and was ultimately trapped in a carefully designed scheme by the White Widow and the person behind her (perhaps He Daqing's "old friend"). Perhaps they had some leverage over him, ultimately forcing him to abandon his family and flee to a distant land.

And what about Yi Zhonghai? That old man, he really played his cards right! He was like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, keenly sensing the crisis in the He family, and then taking advantage of the situation. First, he played the role of a "great philanthropist," having Aunt Yi bring over leftovers from time to time. These meals weren't free; each one came with a barrage of moral lectures, hurling insults at He Daqing and belittling He Yuzhu and his sister to the point of worthlessness, all with the aim of destroying their self-esteem, making them feel inferior and that they could only depend on him, Yi Zhonghai.

This was exactly the effect he wanted—to make He Yuzhu and his sister believe that he, Yi Zhonghai, was the only good person in the entire courtyard, the only one who could give them food. This way, he could easily control these two helpless children. Even more insidious was his knowledge that learning to cook at Hongbinlou was a good career path for He Yuzhu. Once Yuzhu mastered his skills and could support himself, would he still be so easily controlled? Of course not! Therefore, he had to cut off Yuzhu's only way out! So, using his status as an "elder," he feigned righteousness, went to Hongbinlou, found Master Li Baoguo, and fabricated a lie, saying that He Yuzhu didn't want to learn anymore, that it was shameful, and implied that the He family's reputation would be damaged and affect the restaurant. Li Baoguo, a cook, had no idea about the intricacies of the courtyard house, and respected Yi Zhonghai's reputation as a "good old man," so he naturally believed him. Yuzhu's future was ruined by a few casual words from Yi Zhonghai!

By cutting off all of Zhu Zi's upward mobility, trapping him firmly on the edge of despair, and forcing him to rely solely on his own charity to survive, Yi Zhonghai then throws out the bait of "helping you find a job." Wouldn't Zhu Zi be grateful and obedient to him? Then, getting him to take care of the foolish Zhu Zi in his old age and see him off in death would be a piece of cake. This old man is truly a master strategist, calculating every step of the way, and incredibly ruthless!

He Damin slowly stood up. His tall figure stretched long in the dim light, casting a solid shadow on the wall like a steady mountain. "Zhuzi, you just need to tell me, do you still want to go back to Hongbinlou? Are you still willing to learn from Master Li Baoguo?"

He Yuzhu's breathing quickened instantly, his chest heaving violently, and his eyes blazed with an almost desperate light—a light filled with surprise, disbelief, and a deep longing. "I want to! Uncle! I want to! I dream of going back! But... Master Li must be utterly disappointed in me... Master Yi... Yi Zhonghai, he..." Just thinking of Yi Zhonghai's hypocritical face made his teeth itch with hatred, but he also worried that he could no longer return to his master's side.

"Master Li is a reasonable man. The fault doesn't lie with you. Explain things clearly, and he will understand." He Damin's tone was firm, carrying an undeniable force. "As for the one who spread the lie... he will get what he deserves, soon. Tomorrow, I'll take you back to Hongbinlou."

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window into the He family's courtyard. He Damin soothed the still-sleeping Xiaoyushui, covered her with a blanket, and then, with He Yuzhu, whose palms were sweating with nervousness, they headed once again towards the time-honored restaurant, Hongbinlou, which was filled with the enticing aroma of food.

As He Yuzhu followed his uncle back into that familiar backyard, filled with the sounds of cooking fires and the clatter of pots and pans, his heart nearly leaped out of his throat, and his legs trembled. He was filled with both anticipation and fear.

Li Baoguo was directing his apprentices in the kitchen when he looked up and saw two people standing at the door. One was He Yuzhu, an apprentice he had once thought highly of but who had ultimately disappointed him. The boy looked much cleaner and more efficient today, and a glimmer of light had returned to his eyes, but there was more unease than anything else. The man standing next to him had a composed demeanor and sharp eyes; he was clearly no ordinary person. Li Baoguo couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

In a cramped storage room, He Yuzhu, choking back tears, recounted his experiences over the past six months to his former master: his father's unusual changes this year, his sudden departure from home, his journey with his sister to find their father only to be turned away by the "White Widow," their home being burgled upon returning, the siblings being plunged into despair, and their struggle to survive by digging for wild vegetables and scavenging rotten leaves... and he never uttered a single word about not wanting to learn to cook; it was all a malicious lie fabricated by someone!

He Damin, standing to the side, calmly and clearly explained how Yi Zhonghai used his status as an "elder" to feign assistance while secretly sabotaging things, ultimately lying at Hongbinlou and ruining Zhu Zi's future. He didn't embellish the story, but simply stated the facts, which were already outrageous enough.

Li Baoguo's expression shifted from initial astonishment to realization upon hearing of He Daqing's misfortune, then to a grimace upon hearing of Yi Zhonghai's actions, and finally, when he looked at his apprentice who had suffered so much injustice yet still maintained a resolute gaze, only deep regret and anger remained on his face.

"Smack!" He slammed his fist heavily on the flour sack beside him, sending a cloud of white flour flying. "Foolish! I, Li Baoguo, am truly foolish! Blinded! I was actually deceived by this hypocritical scoundrel! I almost... almost ruined your future!"

He abruptly turned to He Yuzhu, his eyes filled with undisguised guilt and rekindled admiration. "Zhuzi! Good boy! It's all my fault! I've wronged you so much! I'll avenge you! Starting tomorrow, you're back here working! You'll make up for everything you missed!"

Tears welled up in He Yuzhu's eyes, and he knelt down heavily: "Okay! Master, I was foolish before and made things difficult for you! I will definitely study hard from now on and never embarrass you again!"

Li Baoguo helped him up with all his might, then turned to He Damin and solemnly clasped his hands in a fist and palm salute: "Comrade He, I can't thank you enough! If it weren't for you, this child's future would have been ruined! I've decided to take Zhuzi in. As long as he's willing to learn, I'll share all my skills with him without reservation!"

Stepping out of Hongbinlou, the sun shone brightly. He Yuzhu felt that the huge rock of "despair" and "injustice" that had been weighing on his heart for more than half a year had finally been completely removed, and an unprecedented sense of relief enveloped him. But at the same time, the deep and clear hatred he felt for Yi Zhonghai was like a quenched blade, cold and sharp, branded into his heart.

He Damin walked beside him, gazing calmly ahead. Yi Zhonghai's death was just the beginning.