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

Chapter 93 Writing a Letter to the Childless

He Yuzhu and Lao Li went through the gate in the wall into the backyard and stood outside the door of the back house. Lao Li raised his hand and knocked on the door, but no one answered. The sour smell coming from under the door was too strong. Lao Li took a step back, frowned, and said that something must have happened and they had to call someone immediately.

Just then, Xiao Wang came out from the next room. He had changed out of his Zhongshan suit and put on an old jacket.

"I've been knocking for ages, but no one's here. I've already notified the colleagues on duty at the street office. Let's wait for Director Zhang to come. I can't break down the door myself; the old lady is probably gone." He then looked at He Yuzhu.

He Yuzhu leaned against the courtyard wall. "You did the right thing. Let's wait for the neighborhood committee to come. She's an old-fashioned woman; she's not even worth saving."

He spread his spatial awareness. In the back room, the old deaf man was curled up on a moldy mattress, his body huddled together, his heart had long since stopped beating, his blood had congealed, and he was slowly getting cold.

He Yuzhu withdrew his senses, took out a cigarette, lit it, and the smoke slowly dissipated in the wind.

He's dead. That old bastard just died like that.

People in the courtyard heard the commotion and gradually gathered around. Madam Jia Zhang came over from the west wing, smiling, still asking, "What happened? Is the old man gone?"

Yan Bugui limped over to Liu Haizhong and stood there watching. Liu Haizhong was writing in a notebook, exchanging words with Yan Bugui. Wang Caifeng followed behind him, clutching a rag in her hand, looking somewhat nervous.

Xu Damao was helped out by Li Hongmei; he was still dizzy and hadn't sobered up yet.

Director Zhang arrived quickly with two staff members. He stood at the door of the back building for a moment, then sniffed the crack in the door. His brows furrowed, and he stepped back, waving his hand: "Break down the door."

The two officers kicked the door, and after a few kicks, the bolt broke, and the wooden door sprang open. A stench burst out from the dark doorframe, like a solid wall slamming into the faces of everyone present. The two officers stumbled back several steps and vomited.

Jia Zhangshi covered her nose and shrank back into the crowd, repeatedly shouting that it stank horribly.

Director Zhang covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, his voice muffled behind the handkerchief: "Xiao Wang, go in and take a look."

Xiao Wang held his breath and went inside, with Lao Li following behind. Sunlight streamed in through the open doorway, illuminating the floor of the room, and Lao Li turned on the light.

The old deaf man was curled up on the moldy mattress, his body shrunk into a small ball. He was stiff, his gray hair stuck to his scalp, and his hands were clenched into fists in front of his chest, his knuckles sticking out.

His face still bore the expression of his dying moments: his mouth was open, the corners of his lips turned down, his eyes were half-open, and a layer of white film covered his cloudy pupils. He probably wanted to say something before he died, but his mouth opened and no sound came out. And so, in the darkness, he breathed his last, alone.

Xiao Wang, who was nearby, saw several maggots crawling out of her sleeve. The tiny white worms wriggled and writhed on her withered skin. He covered his mouth and ran out, leaning against the courtyard wall and vomiting violently. His face was pale, and his voice was hoarse: "Maggots... I have maggots."

Madam Jia spat, spittle landing on the door: "Good riddance. Saves us from wasting food. That old bastard was useless alive, and now he's just a nuisance to the neighbors."

Director Zhang turned around and glared at her: "Mrs. Jia, watch your mouth."

Jia Zhangshi shrank back and remained silent.

Yan Bugui glanced inside, patted Liu Haizhong on the shoulder, and walked away limping without saying a word.

Liu Haizhong's face darkened. Wang Caifeng stood beside him, clutching a rag, her face slowly turning pale, her voice trembling slightly: "Old Liu, how are we going to sleep tonight? She just... she must have been calling out to us when she died, but we were so close, and we didn't hear a thing."

Liu Haizhong took out a small notebook, wrote a few words, and handed it to his wife: "Don't overthink it, go check on Xiao Wang."

When Xu Damao heard that the old deaf man was dead, he regained his senses. Standing on the outermost edge of the crowd, Hongmei buried her face in his shoulder, unable to look at him. Xu Damao's face turned pale, and he took two steps back, still holding Hongmei's shoulder.

Director Zhang directed two staff members to wrap the old deaf man's body in a mat and tie it tightly with rope. Xiao Wang borrowed a cart, and several people lifted the body onto the cart.

The mat was rotten, revealing two bare feet. The soles of their feet were so dirty that their original color was unrecognizable, and their toes were still wrapped with cotton wadding that had been rummaged through from the tattered quilt.

The group pushed the cart away.

He Yuzhu flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground and stomped it out. She died. In her past life, she enjoyed a life of luxury in the backyard, where everyone called her "Grandmother." In this life, she was forced to die in fear and hunger.

But I felt empty inside, and didn't feel much relief. I felt she got off too easily; she should have endured another year, until things got even worse, before she breathed her last. To die like this was too easy for her.

"Da Mao." He Yuzhu waved to Xu Damao, who was on the outer edge of the crowd. Xu Damao was putting his arm around Hongmei's shoulder and comforting her in a low voice. When he heard Brother Zhu calling him, he quickly came over.

"You two can sleep in the south room of the courtyard tonight. The smell in the backyard won't go away; it's too unlucky."

"Thank you, Brother Zhu." Xu Damao lowered his voice again, "Brother Zhu, Old Deaf Man is gone, why aren't you happy?"

"She and Yi Zhonghai plotted against my family, and she died just like that. I still feel unsatisfied."

Xu Damao's eyes darted around. "Brother Zhu, why don't we write a letter to Yi Zhonghai and tell him what the old deaf man looked like when he died? Let's scare him a little. The worst thing about having no descendants is dying and no one knowing, like being covered in maggots."

He Yuzhu's eyes lit up, and he slapped Xu Damao hard on the shoulder. "Good idea. Come on, let's go back to the courtyard and discuss it. You're too weak, kid." He pulled Xu Damao up from his squatting position.

The two spent the afternoon discussing how to write something exaggerated and terrifying, how to scare the childless one even more. Dinner was prepared by the two Ma brothers, who heated up the leftovers from lunch and stir-fried two vegetarian dishes.

After settling Lou Xiao'e and He Xiao in, He Yuzhu went into his study alone. He lit a Zhonghua cigarette, spread the paper on the table, and picked up his pen to rewrite it.

Yi Zhonghai is still in prison. We don't know how he'll react to the news of the old deaf man's death. Will he dream every day that he'll die the same way?

He Yuzhu put a cigarette in his mouth and his pen touched the paper. He wrote about how the old deaf man died on a moldy mattress, and how the starving man was so thin that his body was curled up in a ball and looked to weigh less than fifty pounds.

Describe the layer of ash on her face, describe her hands that are like chicken claws. Describe maggots crawling out of her eyes, the white worms wriggling and twisting on her dry, withered skin.

Finally, the sentence was added: This is the fate of those who have no offspring.

After writing the last line, he folded the letter and stuffed it into the envelope. He needed to first go to Uncle Chen to inquire which labor camp Yi Zhonghai was being held in. This letter had to be delivered to him so that he could see it.

As soon as it was light, He Yuzhu rode his tricycle to Chen Xiangqian's house. As soon as he entered, he asked where Yi Zhonghai was, saying he wanted to write him a letter.

Chen Xiangqian rummaged through the drawer, found an old notebook, copied the address onto a sticky note, and handed it to him: "Northwest Labor Reform Farm, I've written down the specific prison area here. Be careful when writing letters, there are special people censoring the prisoners' letters, don't write anything carelessly, otherwise it won't reach him."

He Yuzhu put the note in his pocket, got on his motorcycle and headed straight to the post office, where he mailed the letter.

On his way back, he wondered what Yi Zhonghai's expression would be after receiving the letter. His face would probably twitch for quite a while.

Fear makes life unbearable. There are still a few years before Yi Zhonghai is released from prison; we should start thinking about how to torment him.