Sha Zhu's Rebirth in the Courtyard: Starting with Hitting Someone in the Head

Chapter 34 Da Mao's Envy

In February 1953, it was still cold. The old locust trees outside the courtyard were bare, with frost clinging to their branches.

He Yuzhu set up his stall as usual. Four hundred boxed meals were sold out in less than two hours. After packing up, he parked his tricycle in the main house of the courtyard. Old Li helped him unload the steamers, stack the empty basins and buckets in the corner, and fold the tables and chairs against the wall.

Old Li took off his apron and hung it on the wall. "Zhu Zi, I'm going back." He Yuzhu nodded. Old Li went out the door and walked towards the east wing.

The next day was Sunday. Before dawn, He Yuzhu was kneading dough when there was movement in the west wing.

Jia Zhangshi ran out wearing a cotton-padded coat, her hair a mess like a bird's nest, and one shoe was still slipping on her foot. She ran back a little while later, followed by an old woman with a cloth bag tucked under her arm.

The door to the west wing was closed. The windowpanes were fogged up, and shadowy figures flickered inside.

Jia Zhangshi's voice came through the crack in the door, "Dongxu, boil water, quickly boil water."

He Yuzhu withdrew his senses and continued kneading the dough. Old Li pushed open the door and came in, rubbing his hands together. "Zhuzi, is Jia's daughter-in-law about to give birth?"

He Yuzhu hummed in agreement. Old Li didn't ask any more questions, tied on his apron, and started chopping vegetables. He cut the cabbage stalks in half, then shredded them, the knife clattering against the cutting board.

Daylight broke. People in the courtyard gradually got up.

Yan Bugui was squatting at his doorstep brushing his teeth, with his teacup on the ground.

Yang Ruihua carried Yan Jiedi out of the house, with Yan Jiefang and Yan Jiekuang following behind, but Yang Ruihua held them back to prevent them from running around.

Liu Haizhong came out from the backyard and stood by the gate, smoking. Wang Caifeng stood next to him, holding a rag in her hand.

The old deaf man kept the door closed, but half his head peeked out of the window before retreating back inside.

In the morning, He Yuzhu put the twice-cooked pork into the wok, and the sauce turned a glossy, dark brown. The marinated mackerel pieces were then fried in oil, sizzling and turning golden brown before being taken out. Steam rose from the steamer, and the aroma of steamed buns wafted out from under the door, mingling with the fragrance of meat.

From the west wing came the midwife's voice: "Push, push harder, the head's out, almost there!"

Qin Huairu's suppressed screams were met with Jia Zhangshi's urging: "Hurry up and push, we can see the head!"

People gathered around. Yan Bugui, carrying a teacup, walked to the middle courtyard and stood in the crowd, heading towards the west wing. Yang Ruihua stood beside him, holding Yan Jiedi, while Yan Jiefang and Yan Jiekuang peeked their heads through the adults' legs.

Liu Haizhong took a few steps forward, a cigarette between his fingers, with Wang Caifeng following behind him.

The old deaf man left his window slightly ajar.

A loud, forceful cry came from the west wing. The midwife pushed open the door, peeking out with a radiant smile. "It's a son! A big, healthy boy!"

Jia Dongxu stood in the courtyard, his mouth agape. His hands were still tucked into his sleeves, as if he'd forgotten to take them out.

Madam Jia rushed out of the house, carrying a swaddled baby in her arms, only revealing a small, wrinkled, red face. The baby's black hair was plastered to its scalp, its eyes were closed, and its mouth opened and closed, crying loudly.

His chubby face beamed with joy, tears streaming down his face, as he held her tightly, refusing to let go. "My dear grandson, the son of the Jia family, my grandson!" His voice trembled.

Jia Dongxu leaned closer to look, touched the little face with his finger, then pulled back, chuckling.

Madam Jia handed her grandson to him. "Hold your son!"

Jia Dongxu rubbed his hands together, carefully taking the cloth bag. His arms were stiff, as if he were holding a bomb. The baby inside cried loudly, and Jia Dongxu chuckled along.

People gathered around. Yang Ruihua smiled and congratulated the baby, then leaned closer to examine the baby's face. "Those eyebrows and eyes... they resemble Dongxu's."

Madam Jia's old face turned into a chrysanthemum, her chin held high. "I told you Huai Ru would definitely have a son, wasn't I right?"

Yan Bugui stood outside the crowd, holding a teacup. "Congratulations! This child has a loud cry; he'll be successful in the future."

Madam Jia glanced at him. "That's right. How could someone from the Jia family be worthless?"

Liu Haizhong took a drag of his cigarette and nodded. "Congratulations, Sister-in-law Jia." He then turned and left, with Wang Caifeng following behind.

The old deaf man closed the window silently.

He Yuzhu withdrew his senses and packed them into a box.

Four hundred portions were loaded into the tricycle, and the quilts covered them tightly.

Old Li pushed the cart from behind, and the two of them went out of the courtyard gate one after the other.

He Yuzhu pedaled his bicycle, the wheels making a clattering sound as they rolled over the blue brick pavement.

Qianmen Railway Station.

On Sundays, there are even more people. He Yuzhu sets up a folding table and arranges the boxed lunches. As soon as the lid is lifted, the aroma wafts out.

People crowded around, handing over money and taking the boxed meals, eating while squatting or standing. In just over an hour, all four hundred meals were sold out.

They packed up and went back to the courtyard. The sun was just beginning to set. He Yuzhu parked the tricycle in the main house of the central courtyard, and Old Li helped unload the goods.

Xu Damao emerged from the moon gate of the courtyard, followed by Yushui and Xu Ling. The care for Yushui, including daily pick-up and drop-off, was outsourced to him. His payment was one dinner a day; Xu Damao treated Yushui even better than his own sister.

"Brother Zhu! Qin Huairu gave birth to a son." Xu Damao's eyes widened.

He Yuzhu wiped his hands. "Yeah. I heard it this morning."

"That bastard Jia Dongxu, he's got a really good life," Xu Damao clicked his tongue.

He Yuzhu laughed. "Are you stupid? You're envious of Jia Dongxu?"

Xu Damao was stunned.

He Yuzhu lit a cigarette, took a puff, and the smoke slowly dissipated in the courtyard. "The Jia family are all short-lived. Old Jia died in 49, before the founding of the People's Republic. Jia Dongxu, that wretched boy, died even younger than his father. I haven't seen this newborn yet, but I guess he won't fare well either."

He flicked his cigarette ash onto the ground. "The Jia family's lifespan is getting shorter with each generation. I guess it's coming to an end."

Xu Damao's mouth hung open, unable to close for a long time. Yu Shui looked up at He Yuzhu, her little hands clutching the hem of his clothes.

For dinner, he made scallion-oil crab, and the sweet and sour pork didn't have pineapple, but instead used oranges, which the two little girls fought over. Xu Damao was gnawing on a pig's trotter, his mouth bulging, and he didn't forget to praise Brother Zhu's cooking skills.

He Yuzhu sipped his wine, ate a plate of braised snails, and looked at his three children with a kind smile that seemed beyond his years.

Night fell. The courtyard quieted down. February was cold, and the wind howled as it blew across the rooftops.

He Yuzhu stood inside the room, his eyes closed. He flung the throwing knives from his side, the silver light flashing as he moved them left and right, turning and striking them with a series of rapid, powerful blows, all of which landed squarely on the wooden target opposite him, the blades trembling incessantly.

He used spatial manipulation to retrieve it, then flung it again. He drew the knife in various poses, pulled it out, and flung it again. The scabbard was riddled with holes like a honeycomb.

After finishing his practice, he wiped all six throwing knives clean and put them back in their sheaths.

The entire set of throwing knives appeared in the space, with two corpses suspended in mid-air inside.

"You two are staying here, so you'll have to pay some rent. From now on, you can let Master Zhu practice his needle-throwing skills; he'll be a perfect human target. How could I not have thought of that? What a waste."

He Yuzhu opened his eyes.

The sound of a baby crying came from the Intermediate People's Court; loud and strong, one cry after another.

The crying stopped. The courtyard fell completely silent.

He Yuzhu rolled over. It's still early to close the net; those ungrateful wretches should grow up quickly.