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

Chapter 87 The Arrival of Famine

After the floodwaters receded, every household in the courtyard was busy drying their belongings. Bamboo poles were propped up against the walls, with quilts, clothes, and sacks of grain that had been soaked in water hanging out to dry. Under the sun, the courtyard was filled with a musty, damp, and sour stench.

By September, food supplies were becoming scarce, but the rationing quotas remained unchanged.

Jia Zhangshi and her son made over four hundred yuan by trading grain on the black market. Their living conditions improved considerably; they could eat meat every few days. Their son, Bang Geng, had become quite picky, no longer eating cornbread but demanding at least two kinds of steamed buns. Qin Huairu and Xiao Dang also benefited, their faces becoming much rounder.

That evening, Jia Zhangshi bought a roast duck with her own money and also cut a plate of pig's head meat. That night, the whole family gathered around the table to celebrate. Banggeng held the duck leg in both hands and gnawed on it with his mouth full of oil. Jia Dongxu picked up a piece of pig's head meat and stuffed it into his mouth, saying that our mother knew how to manage money. Other families in the yard were almost starving even with cornmeal, but our family could still afford to eat meat.

Jia Zhangshi took a sip of cornmeal porridge with a smug look on her face and said, "This is nothing. Once the black market grain price goes down, we'll continue to stockpile grain."

Qin Huairu sat beside Jia Zhangshi, holding Xiaodang in her arms. Xiaodang reached for the duck bones on the table, but Qin Huairu gently pressed the child's hand down and looked up at Jia Zhangshi. "Mom, we only have a little over a hundred catties of grain left. There are five of us in the family, and only Dongxu has a ration. What if the price of grain goes up again..."

Jia Zhangshi slammed her hand on the table, the chopsticks bouncing on the edge of the plate. "What do you know! Beijing is the capital, how could we starve? Now that we have money, we can just wait for the black market grain prices to come down and buy it back. You take good care of the children and stop worrying about this."

Jia Dongxu turned around and patted Qin Huairu on the back. "Huairu, you should listen to your mother. She's right, we won't go hungry here in the capital."

As October arrived, scattered groups of refugees from other parts of Beijing began to appear on the streets and alleys. Dressed in rags, they squatted against walls, some with their families, others holding children and begging for food with broken bowls in their hands.

Many residents began to panic, and queues stretched from morning till night outside grain stores. Black market grain prices changed daily, rising at alarming rates.

Jia Zhangshi couldn't sit still any longer. Every day she would squat at the entrance of the alley to inquire about the black market grain prices, and her face would become more and more unpleasant as she returned.

When Jia Dongxu came home from get off work, she tugged at her son's sleeve and asked how the grain prices were outside. Jia Dongxu kept his head down and didn't say anything. Jia Zhangshi gritted her teeth and muttered that prices wouldn't keep rising and would eventually fall, but her voice grew weaker and weaker.

One evening in late October, after dinner, Xiao Wang, who lived in the backyard, called a meeting for everyone in the yard, and everyone attended. The old deaf woman didn't come; she was now mentally impaired and only knew how to go out begging.

Before the meeting, Xiao Wang went next door to knock. The old deaf man sat on a moldy mattress, muttering something to himself, ignoring him. A sour, musty smell filled the room. Xiao Wang sighed and turned to leave.

In the front yard, Xiao Wang held a notice from the neighborhood committee, his face grim. "Dear neighbors, starting next month, rations will be reduced." He read out each item one by one: fitters from 38 jin to 33 jin, blacksmiths from 45 jin to 38 jin, general laborers from 25 jin. Ordinary adult residents from…

The people in the courtyard were in an uproar after hearing this. Yang Ruihua immediately started talking, saying that his family of four had less than 90 catties of grain a month, and couldn't even afford 3 catties of cornmeal a day. How were they going to survive?

Standing in the crowd, Jia Zhangshi's face was as white as paper. After hearing the announcement of the quota reduction, her legs went weak and she almost couldn't stand. It wasn't that she was frightened by the quota reduction, but that she felt she had suffered a huge loss.

Back in the room, his hands trembling, he pulled out the stack of bills and placed them on the edge of the bed, sitting there staring at them for a long time. He didn't need to ask; the black market grain price was definitely skyrocketing.

Jia Dongxu squatted at the doorway, smoking and not daring to utter a sound, while Qin Huairu silently shed tears, not daring to let her mother-in-law see.

Lou Xiao'e was heavily pregnant, already over seven months along. In mid-August, He Yuzhu brought her back from the Lou mansion to live with him. After finishing her meeting today, she looked at her two apprentices and Yushui—five mouths to feed—and felt quite uneasy.

Sitting on the edge of the bed that night, holding He Yuzhu's hand, she said, "Brother He, will we run out of food? We still have two apprentices to feed. Should we ask my dad for some?"

He Yuzhu smiled, helped her up from the bed, and led her slowly through the passageway to the cellar in the middle courtyard. He pulled the light cord, and the dim light illuminated the cellar.

Lou Xiao'e leaned against the ladder, her eyes wide open. Dozens of cases of specially supplied Moutai were stacked in the corner, and more than a dozen jars of Lai Mao liquor were piled up in two rows. More than twenty cases of Fenjiu were piled up next to it, and there were dozens of jars of 20-jin yellow wine.

The cellar was mostly filled with grains, with rows of wheat flour, millet, cornmeal, and soybeans labeled with slips of paper, like a supply and marketing cooperative warehouse. Dozens of cured meats and salted fish hung on the walls, and a faint, fresh aroma of grains filled the air.

"This...so much? Brother He, when did you start saving these?"

He Yuzhu pointed to a jar of Lai Mao liquor, its surface covered in fine ash, the seal still intact. "This jar of wine is the one you asked me to go back and get back from back then, do you remember?"

"That's been six or seven years! You started hoarding supplies so early? The food would have all gone bad by now."

He Yuzhu gently flicked her nose. "Silly girl, your husband's a cook, how could he not know this? The grain is changed every year; we eat the old grain first and then replenish the new, it won't spoil. Let me help you back first, don't worry. It's enough to feed ten people, let alone five."

The days were getting harder and harder for the other people in the compound. Every day after get off work, Yan Bugui would wander around the grain store, hoping to see if there was any old grain for sale.

Liu Haizhong worked as a forger in the factory, doing heavy physical labor, so he needed to eat his fill, which meant he was rarely served fried eggs. Guang Tian, ​​having lost his older brother, was rarely beaten, knowing that his father needed to be fed first. The Liu family was much quieter now.

The old deaf woman was barely hanging on; she went out begging every day, but didn't earn much. Every few days, Xiao Wang would knock on her door and give her two steamed buns. She would take them, take a couple of bites, and mutter to herself, seemingly talking to someone.

He Yuzhu watched these people tighten their belts every day, feeling no pity, only a sense of satisfaction at settling scores later.

When the disaster worsens next year, the lives of these beasts will be even more exciting.

One evening, Li Huaide came to the courtyard with two packs of cigarettes between his fingers. He sat under the pomegranate tree, looking rather grim. "Brother He, could you arrange for two tons of pork? If not pork, other meats will do. My father-in-law is trying to get me a position as deputy factory director. The most important thing right now is to achieve results; the canteen can't run out of meat."

He Yuzhu poured him a cup of tea. "Deputy factory director? That position was vacated by Yang Honglin?"

Li Huaide snorted. "What's with all the 'trouble'? Ever since he was promoted to factory director, he's been picking on me, saying I'm late, leave early, and have a lax work style. At the monthly rectification meeting, he publicly criticized me for wasting public resources. He's using me to establish his authority and suppress my reputation. I have to wait until next year to get promoted, but the canteen can't have any problems in the meantime. If the meat runs out, he'll have another excuse."

He Yuzhu was silent for a moment. "I'll arrange the meat for you, but you can't say it came from me. Yang Honglin sees you as a thorn in his side right now, so you'll have to put up with it for the time being. You can't afford to give anyone a reason to criticize you during this period. I won't get involved in your conflict; you understand that."

"I understand. You don't want to have a conflict with Yang Honglin for Vice Minister Bi's sake. Your help is on my side." Li Huaide stood up, left two packs of cigarettes on the table, and quickly disappeared into the moonlight.

He Yuzhu sat under the pomegranate tree, his fingers slowly tapping on the armrest of his chair. After Yang Honglin became the factory director, he started persecuting people; this style was wrong. Years ago, He Yuzhu broke Yang Honglin's leg and slapped him in front of more than a dozen workers, forcing him to say thank you. Yang Honglin had probably kept that humiliation buried deep in his heart.

Could it be that now that he's gone up there, he doesn't dare to deal with him directly, so he's venting all his resentment on Li Huaide?

He Yuzhu stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. As long as Yang Honglin didn't provoke him, he could pretend he didn't see anything. But if he dared to cross the line, then he shouldn't be a human being.