Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

"Director, should I formally bring this up at the factory leadership meeting tomorrow?"

"Great! I'm the first to raise my hand in agreement!"

With just a few words, the matter was settled.

Although a trip to the countryside would be tiring, He Yuzhu immediately decided to send a truck to pick them up on the return trip, providing food, lodging, and subsidies, doubling the usual treatment.

As for the projectionist?

Who is it? I've never heard of them.

People who work for the government should work hard for the factory and the country, right?

Section Chief Zhou knew perfectly well that He Yuzhu was trying to make trouble for the film projection team. But he didn't even lift an eyelid, his mouth as tight as if sealed shut, refusing to utter a single unnecessary word.

As soon as the bell rang to signal the end of the workday, He Yuzhu hopped on his old-fashioned bicycle and sped home.

Now he doesn't have to work overtime by lamplight. The canteen is taken care of by the canteen director and the kitchen staff. Does he really have to wait for the leaders of the Ministry of Industry to be stationed there before he can finish work?

Just as he stepped out of the factory gate, he caught a glimpse of Qin Huairu standing by the roadside, waving at him and about to call out "Zhu Zi"—

He Yuzhu pushed off with his foot, the handlebars veered slightly, and he passed by without looking back, as if there were only a dead tree stump by the roadside.

Qin Huairu's smile froze on her face, her fingers hovering in mid-air, her heart sinking: Here we go again. Why? Why are they so cold to her, like blocks of ice?!

Pushing open the door, the house was quiet, with only the soft crackling of the stove fire.

Lou Xiao'e has been working overtime a lot lately. There's a lot going on at the street office, and she likes to join in the work and eagerly show off. He Yuzhu didn't stop her—it's a good thing that people are enthusiastic.

He rolled up his sleeves to start a fire, and casually took out a pot of stewed broth from the upgrade acceleration space. He poured it into a hot pot, sprinkled some greens on top, and it was ready to serve in five minutes.

"Rain Pillar, I'm back!"

Lou Xiao'e took off her scarf as soon as she entered the door and went straight to the kitchen. He Yuzhu, however, pushed her out: "Go wash your hands, dinner's ready!"

She had barely sat down at the table, not even properly holding her chopsticks, when her eyes lit up: "What a special day it is today, so many dishes... Ugh—"

Before she could finish speaking, a wave of nausea washed over her, and she quickly covered her mouth and turned to the side to dry heave.

He Yuzhu immediately put down his bowl: "What's wrong? Feeling nauseous?"

"It's nothing, I just didn't have much of an appetite at lunch, maybe the food wasn't to my liking..."

"Let me take your pulse."

He reached out and held her wrist, his fingertips steadily resting on the ruler. After holding his breath for a few seconds, he suddenly grinned: "Xiao'e, I've got it!"

His mastery of medical skills is ingrained in his very being; even when a fetal breath is just beginning to emerge and the pulse is still faint, he can detect it perfectly.

Lou Xiao'e froze, her eyes instantly reddening: "Really? Yuzhu, you're not mistaken?"

"How could I, the one who writes prescriptions, misread her pulse?" He chuckled and ruffled her hair, then subconsciously reached out and placed his hand on her lower abdomen—it was still flat, but his palm was already burning hot.

"And then?" she asked softly.

"I'll cook, just tell me if the taste isn't to your liking; as for the neighborhood office, I'll go with you to see Director Wang tomorrow and reveal our identities—pregnant women get priority in reducing their burden."

Lou Xiao'e nodded, gently pressing her fingers on her stomach, her lips curving into a crescent moon: After waiting for so long, this day has finally come.

Sexual intercourse is forbidden for the first and last three months of the year, and during the middle period, everything is arranged by her. Now, she is the most important person in the family.

He Yuzhu asked her what she wanted to eat and whether she wanted to change the dishes. The Accelerated Space had everything from meat and vegetables to sweet and savory dishes, ensuring that every meal would be different.

Lou Xiao'e shook her head and laughed: "Why are you being so delicate? I love everything you make."

The two sat down with their bowls in hand, the hot soup steaming and emitting a fragrant aroma.

At the same moment, Qin Huairu stepped into the courtyard house in the twilight and saw Bang Geng dragging Xiao Dang running wildly under the locust tree, their shoes covered in mud and their trousers dusty.

She frowned: "Bang! What time is it? Still out here in the dark?"

"Mom, the house stinks! It's pungent!"

Banggeng scrunched up his little face and fanned himself. Qin Huairu was taken aback: Stink? Dongxu and her mother-in-law are both home, how could it smell so bad?

With a stern face, she urged, "Hurry up and go back inside, dinner's ready!"

Banggeng shuffled through the door, with Xiaodang following closely behind.

Qin Huairu pushed open the peeling wooden door of the central courtyard, and a stench of sourness hit her head—she instinctively took a half step back, her throat tightened, and she covered her mouth and gagged.

Who pooped in the house? It smells so foul!

She gritted her teeth, pinched her nose, and stepped inside. Following the smell, she rummaged through a pile of rumpled clothes and finally saw the culprit: Jia Dongxu's pants, which he had thrown into a basin. There was a clump of yellowish-brown filth stuck to the crotch. They hadn't even been dried; they were just lying there, rotting.

At this moment, Madam Jia Zhang shuffled out of the inner room in her slippers, put her hands on her hips, and yelled, "Qin Huairu! What are you dawdling for? Dongxu is groaning from hunger, the baby's belly is sunken, hurry up and start a fire to cook!"

"Mom, you didn't even cook dinner?" Qin Huairu's voice trembled. "These pants...why didn't you wash them? They stink so badly, it's unbearable to stand!"

"Qin Huairu, Dongxu is your man, and Banggeng and Xiaodang are your own children. Washing their clothes and serving them meals is your duty as a wife and mother, isn't it? Besides—smelly? It's just the smell of your man's sweat. If you can't stand the smell, then don't marry into this family!"

Jia Zhangshi didn't even lift her eyelids, just pursed her lips, and casually grabbed a handful of ash from the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and patted it off. Back in the countryside, to avoid the cow dung pit two miles away, she would drag half a basket of wet cow dung into the kitchen doorway and pile it up, making even rats avoid it. She had long since developed the ability to not be afraid of stale dung or smelly dung.

"Mom, according to your logic, you're still Dongxu's biological mother! Shouldn't you be the one washing his clothes, cooking porridge for him, and bathing him?"

Before Qin Huairu could finish speaking, her eyes reddened, her throat tightened, and she almost choked up. She had spent three days persuading Jia Dongxu to bring Jia Zhangshi back from her hometown—hoping that someone could lend a hand and keep the business afloat.

Unexpectedly, as soon as he entered the house, he didn't lift the pot lid once, didn't touch the washboard once, and was too lazy to even straighten the clothesline. He just sat in the main room with his legs crossed, eating melon seeds, waiting for her to come home from get off work to light the fire, wash the rice, boil water, and mop the floor.

"Mom, how about this—you go to the factory and take over my shift, and I'll stay home. The stove, the water tank, the baby's diapers—I'll take care of everything. I'll make sure the windows are sparkling clean and the mortar is spotless."

Qin Huairu simply took off her apron and tossed it onto the back of the chair. Today, she had moved six cartloads of materials. Wang Aiying's stack was the heaviest, with three steel plates underneath; the work of Master Li and Foreman Zhao was also all piled on her shoulders. Her shoulders were chafed raw, and her waist felt like it had been constricted by an iron hoop, but she still had to put on her apron, light the stove, soak diapers, and soothe the child when she opened the door.

She didn't even have the strength to lift her arm.

Upon hearing this, Jia Zhangshi's face immediately darkened, becoming even longer than a donkey's: "Qin Huairu, are you saying you want to wash your hands of everything? Abandon your husband and child, and go off to live a carefree life?"

"Go ahead and say whatever you want. At worst, starting tomorrow, I'll bring my own corn to the cafeteria—I've already prepared the lunchbox!"

She turned around and called out "Bang Geng!" Two enamel lunchboxes were still steaming; they had been packed at the factory before she left work: one with stewed tofu and vegetables, and the other with a generous amount of rice. Now the canteen's head chef had changed, and he was more precise with the cooking time, so many workers and their families brought their own aluminum pots to get their meals.

Madam Jia's eyes darted around, and she jumped up, ready to rush over: "Oh dear, you've eaten your fill, yet you've left your husband and me here to stare blankly? You unfilial, wicked woman! I'm going to find the elders in the courtyard to settle this!"

"Go ahead and comment, shout all you want. Let everyone see what law I've broken by feeding my child. And look at the person in charge of the house, holding the keys and the food ration coupons, who can't even afford to cook a hot soup..."

After Qin Huairu finished speaking, she walked straight into the inner room and stood by the table. Jia Dongxu on the bed had her eyes open, but turned her face to the wall—her heart sank suddenly.

He was the one who grabbed her wrist and said, "Mom, come back. I'll feel at ease knowing she's watching over things at home while you're at work." But now, Jia Zhangshi can't even cook the porridge for lunch properly; it's watery and thin, and she hasn't even poked the stove once in the afternoon.

She opened the window, lit a stick of mugwort incense to repel mosquitoes, and as soon as the smoke rose, she called to Banggeng, "Come on, eat it while it's hot."

The work was really tiring, but after talking with Wang Aiying, I felt even emptier. Although her husband couldn't work in the fields, he was skilled at everything: repairing radios, pasting cardboard boxes, picking up and dropping off the children, steaming buns, and pickling vegetables. There were always bright windows wiped clean, fluffy quilts drying in the sun, and a figure waiting at the school gate on time after school.

What about her family? Dongxu lay down comfortably, and his mother sat comfortably, but their comfort had become stagnant—one was suspicious and wary of her daughter-in-law, while the other was calculating and scheming against her grandchildren, and even breathing felt like being fried in oil.

"Fine! Qin Huairu, I think you've got a death wish!"

Madam Jia's face turned a deep purplish-red. She jumped up and rushed out the door, slamming down on the blue brick floor of the central courtyard with a thud. She slapped her thighs and her voice boomed across the yard: "Oh dear—we're starving! That wicked woman won't cook for her mother-in-law, won't feed her paralyzed husband, she's deliberately trying to starve us to death!"

"They've rebelled! The wicked daughter-in-law has seized power! I can't live like this anymore—"

"Help! My poor Dongxu is about to die—"

Her howling silenced even the crickets chirping in the cracks between the bricks in the courtyard. Qin Huairu dug her nails into her palms, her whole body trembling.

She whirled around and glared at Jia Dongxu: "Dongxu, are you just going to let her cause this trouble?"

He rolled over, his head facing away from her, his voice muffled by the pillow: "...What did my mom say wrong?"

"Jia Dongxu, you..."

The words stuck in her throat. She heard a commotion of footsteps outside the courtyard gate. Some people were shuffling in their shoes, some were munching on cornbread, and others were standing on tiptoe, peering into the courtyard. The courtyard was originally quiet, but ever since Jia Zhangshi and Yi Zhonghai entered the house one after the other, it had been bustling with activity.

Intermediate People's Court.

An older woman was the first to squeeze in. Seeing Jia Zhangshi sitting on the ground patting her trouser legs, she quickly adopted a kind and gentle tone: "Sister-in-law, get up quickly, let's talk things out. Why are you sitting on the ground crying and wailing?"

"Mind your own business! That vicious woman won't even boil a drop of hot water. I'm sitting here to get my paralyzed son a meal to survive!"

She howled even louder, her spittle splattering onto the blue bricks.

A buzz of discussion arose in the crowd: "Old Jia's family's in an uproar again..."

Lou Xiao'e also strolled out, and upon seeing her from afar, her brows furrowed into a knot—this wasn't a tantrum, it was spitting mud in people's faces. Yet she was wearing a blue cloth uniform, with a brass badge from the street office pinned to her chest, and before her feet had even crossed the threshold, she was already standing at the front of the crowd.