Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

Lou Xiao'e laughed: "I still find sweeping more comfortable. Once it's clean, it's done, and I can have some peace and quiet."

He Yuzhu replied softly, "Keep working for now, and you can take a break after the baby is born. The position will be kept open; you can come back anytime as a temporary worker if you want."

The two walked side by side in the sunset, their shadows stretched long and thin, moving unhurriedly with each step. The eaves of the courtyard house gradually became clear—their most secure and warmest place of home.

When He Yuzhu stepped into the courtyard, he saw Hong Jingqiu busy at the stove, the spatula flying and oil splattering. An old man named Liu Haizhong sat at the eight-immortal table, holding an enamel mug and smiling as he waited for dinner. He Yuzhu was taken aback, his gaze sweeping over Hong Jingqiu—her eyes were downcast, her eyelashes trembling slightly, her lips tightly pressed together, her eyes like a thin mist, cold and deep, unfathomable. If Qin Huairu were present, she might have been able to discern some clues; Lou Xiao'e, on the other hand, chatted and laughed all the way, linking her arm with He Yuzhu's, walking briskly home.

Hong Jingqiu had accompanied Xu Damao to the hospital a few days earlier, clutching the test results in her hand, the words "azoospermia" clearly written on the paper. But she hadn't closed the net yet, how could she give up halfway? The time Xu Damao slapped her, in the past, she could have just gritted her teeth and swallowed it—back then, she hadn't met Lin Wenbo. But since returning to her hometown, having several long talks with Lin Wenbo under the lamp, and reviewing the diagnosis report repeatedly, her scales had completely tipped: Lin Wenbo was educated, had connections, and was reliable in his words and actions; looking at Xu Damao, he couldn't even leave a child—what would she gain for the next few decades? If Xu Damao were healthy, she might not have even considered this; but since he was penniless, she was determined to withdraw, just waiting for an excuse to legitimately take what she needed—and Xu Damao was the perfect trigger.

She tucked the hospital test results into the bottom of an old photo album, pressing them flat and neat, like a spark ready to explode at any moment.

……

As dawn broke, Lou Xiao'e gently nudged He Yuzhu's shoulder. He groggily sat up, picked up the thermos, and slurped hot water into an enamel basin. After washing up, the two went out side-by-side, strolling leisurely towards the canteen. They had lent their bicycle to Ma Hua; for the past two months, Lou Xiao'e hadn't wanted to ride—the bumpy ride made her chest feel heavy. She preferred to hold hands, stepping steadily on the grass sprouting from the cracks in the blue bricks.

As soon as He Yuzhu stepped into the canteen, he heard Ma Hua's loud voice gesturing to the gathered staff, his eyebrows beaming with joy. Upon seeing He Yuzhu enter, Ma Hua immediately went to greet him, his eyes shining like polished glass beads.

MCA: "Master! I'm getting married this Sunday, you absolutely must do me the honor of cooking for the occasion!"

He Yuzhu raised an eyebrow: "Oh, so fast? Only three days left, is everything ready?"

Ma Hua chuckled: "The goods from the Ke family last time were directly transferred to the Zhou family; the dowry that was originally prepared hasn't been touched either. The Zhou family is also in a hurry to make arrangements, urging us more frequently than a hen laying eggs."

He Yuzhu nodded: "Okay, I'll come with your teacher's wife on that day."

Seeing that the stove was ready, he rolled up his sleeves and began to teach Liu Hu and Liu Erdan how to toss the wok, control the fire, and adjust the saltiness. Once he had taught two people who could work independently, his burden would be much lighter.

Liu Erdan knelt down with a thud, about to kowtow and become an apprentice, but He Yuzhu quickly supported his arm: "You can't! Your father calls me brother, if you call me master, the generations will be all messed up—we don't talk about empty words, we only talk about real skills."

He only accepted Liu Hu as his apprentice, but promised to teach them equally. These two lads may seem rough around the edges now, but they're not cunning and will come in handy in the future.

None of the people in the canteen are just coasting. Right now, it's hard to tell who's up to no good, but when it comes to choosing people, He Yuzhu already has a plan in mind: there's no need to sift through the whole yard; just pick a few reliable ones, and they'll be fine.

Ma Hua invited everyone in the canteen, including Director Zhang, before turning around and heading into the kitchen, where pots and pans clattered and rattled.

Three days later, in the afternoon, the weather was clear and the sky was overcast. He Yuzhu lent He Yushui's bicycle to Ma Hua for the wedding procession—having a few more gleaming "Forever" bicycles would bring honor and prestige. Director Zhang and his wife were also busy helping out; despite their age, they were still eager to move benches and hang red ribbons, their enthusiasm no less than that of young people.

As soon as He Yuzhu stepped into Ma Hua's courtyard, the stove fire roared to life. The guests were already seated, and the food and drinks were just waiting for the order. Lou Xiao'e pulled He Yushui to sit on a long bench in the west wing. The four strong young men from Liu Village were quick and efficient, chopping vegetables and serving dishes, and in the blink of an eye, they had the kitchen in perfect order.

The moment the firecrackers exploded, the newlyweds had just stepped into the main house when He Yuzhu lifted the pot lid, and the first hot dish sizzled into the large blue-and-white porcelain bowl. He stood by the stove, his gaze peering through the gap in the curtain: Ma Hua was hunched over, carrying a woman even stronger than himself on his back, beads of sweat streaming down his temples, but his face shone with the smugness of someone who had just downed two ounces of strong liquor. After entering the courtyard, they had to walk a few steps to complete the ceremony. Although the old customs had been relaxed considerably, the essential elements remained: the two stood side by side, the bride half a head taller than Ma Hua, standing there like a towering poplar tree.

He Yuzhu secretly clicked his tongue: If they were to fight, Ma Hua's small frame would probably be knocked down in just a few punches and kicks.

The bride had a neat short haircut, her military green shirt was buttoned up to the collar and the cuffs were rolled up to her forearms. She walked with a brisk pace, her eyes were bright, and she exuded a cool and capable vibe.

Old Ma's father squatted under the jujube tree, his mouth stretched to his ears, and he forgot to light his pipe—with such a capable daughter-in-law in the house, the house would surely be kept spotless and bright from now on.

As soon as the newlyweds entered the house, everyone in the canteen immediately grabbed trays and served dishes. The bride's family, who had accompanied the bride, also took their seats. Within two minutes, Ma Hua and his wife were going from table to table toasting with wine glasses in hand. The canteen staff could only smile and make way for them, waiting for the second round.

After the guests had all left, only four tables remained for the second round, with the group from the canteen occupying more than three of them. The Ma Hua family sat around the main table, and everyone raised their glasses, the aroma of wine mingling with laughter, swirling in the courtyard.

He Yuzhu raised his glass, his voice low but steady: "Take it easy, we're having a wedding night prank later—Ma Hua, you better watch your drink too!"

Before he finished speaking, a group of men surrounded him, putting their arms around his shoulders and patting him on the back. Ma Hua was about to respond when the bride stopped him with a hand gesture. She accepted every toast offered; one cup after another, seven or eight cups down, her expression unchanged, not even blinking. The crowd cheered, "A woman who is just as capable as any man!"

During the wedding night festivities, He Yuzhu, worried that Lou Xiao'e would be jostled or tripped, simply stayed in the main room to drink tea; He Yushui also accompanied his sister-in-law, sitting at the table with Ma Hua's parents and chatting.

As night deepened, He Yushui rode her bicycle home, with a jar of pickled vegetables that the old lady had brought tied to the back seat. She left the bicycle for Ma Hua to use first, and would pick it up later.

The next morning, Director Zhang somehow got hold of a job offer and handed it to Ma Hua, saying that the fourth workshop was short of a temporary worker and that his wife should report for duty immediately. Ma Hua was extremely grateful and that evening, he and his wife brought two bags of pastries and a jar of honey to visit and express their thanks.

This kind of thing is nothing new in the factory—who wouldn't want to get their relatives into the factory? You help me, I help you, and through these favors, one's career path becomes wider and wider.

Ma Hua, that lad, knows his place and knows when to advance and retreat. Every month after receiving his salary, he never forgets to bring two pounds of white sugar and half a salted duck to Director Zhang's house. Director Zhang feels sweetened by the sweetness and is naturally willing to lend a hand.

The days passed by at a leisurely pace until the third day after payday.

He Yuzhu pushed open the courtyard gate and ran into Hong Jingqiu pointing at Xu Damao and yelling. The word "divorce" was like red-hot nails, hammering into his ears. The two hadn't even gotten a marriage certificate. Hong Jingqiu clutched the yellowed lab report in her hand, her voice shrill: "Xu Damao can't have children! I'm leaving, taking nothing but my clothes! But now you won't even let me into the house!"

Xu Damao slumped on the threshold, his face ashen like dusty old window paper, his eyes sunken, too weak even to lift a hand. Just as another fight seemed imminent, someone ran to fetch Director Hong. Upon seeing him, Hong Jingqiu immediately fell silent, her nails digging deeply into her palms.

Director Hong glanced around, his brows furrowing. "What's all the commotion? In this neighborhood, which couple breaks dishes and smashes pots every few days? If they're so energetic, they should sign up for the army! Quiet down, I want to hear your explanation!"

Hong Jingqiu took a breath, waving the lab report, the corner of the paper trembling in the wind: "Director, this is the hospital's report—Xu Damao is infertile. I want a divorce. I don't want any of his things, I only want my own clothes. But now he treats me like a thief!"

Director Hong raised an eyebrow, a subtle, enigmatic look appearing on her face. What? Xu Damao had lost his fertility? She took the paper with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, scanning it word by word—the page filled with Latin letters and abbreviations looked like gibberish, but she fixed her gaze on the bolded conclusion at the end: Clinically confirmed infertility. Her heart sank slightly, and the words caught in her throat. The Women's Federation was always there to support and reunite, to encourage reconciliation rather than separation, but this matter felt like a wall blocking her throat, impossible to spit out or swallow.

Xu Damao had already swallowed this conclusion. He didn't want to let Hong Jingqiu go at all—who would marry him after that? A quick walk around the courtyard with the household registration booklet would tell him: at most, only widows or those who had endured hardship would dare to live with him. But he also thought widows were unlucky and brought bad luck. So he simply blocked the courtyard gate, like a rock rooted to the spot, clinging tightly to the household registration transfer certificate and the grain supply record book. Without these, Hong Jingqiu couldn't escape the courtyard even if she had wings.

Director Hong opened his mouth several times and then closed it again, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his clothes, his brows furrowed, and he remained silent for a long time.

"Alright then," she finally spoke, her voice calm, "Hong Jingqiu, return the betrothal gifts to Xu Damao in full, and leave your dowry here. Since you're determined not to live with him anymore, you should return what you owe."