Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

In the original story, Yu Qiuhua is blind. The children all pretend to be well-behaved in front of her, but she doesn't want to cause any trouble. She stays at home all day weaving cloth, and her silent endurance is evident in every stitch.

Now that she has a clearer perspective, today's events are like a bucket of ice water poured over her head, waking her up: Wenda is still young, his bones are soft, and can be straightened; Wentao is already able to support himself, and if he is willing to change, his brothers and sisters will naturally lend a hand; if he insists on going astray? Then don't blame no one for not helping him.

She stuffed the bulging cloth bag into Wenda's arms, led him back the way they came, and deliberately chose to walk through the alleyways with lots of people, making him stand out in the middle of the road under the gazes of the neighbors, slowly crushing the pride on his face.

As soon as she entered the courtyard, she rolled up her sleeves and started a fire to cook. Not long after, He Wentao walked in, bathed in the evening glow.

The food had just been placed on the octagonal table when she didn't call her eldest son to start eating—the factory provided three meals a day, so he wouldn't go hungry.

"From now on, use the money you get from collecting bottles to buy candy." She picked up a piece of fatty and lean cured meat and placed it steadily into her bowl. "Mom won't spend a single penny more. As for whether it suits your taste?" She glanced at the yellowish corn porridge and blanched wild vegetables in Wenda's bowl. "Eat it, chew it thoroughly and swallow it—I'm keeping the meat your older sister brought to see who's truly sensible."

Wenda's stomach was churning, and his throat was churning with acid, but he kept his head down and scooped up the paste little by little, as if he were swallowing sand.

Without a word, He Wentao grabbed his faded work jacket, picked up an enamel basin, and rushed out of the yard to wash it by the well—his mother wasn't bluffing. His older sister was determined not to interfere; she'd bumped into Li Jianbin at the factory gate this morning, but he hadn't even glanced at her.

He Wenhui had already declared: no interference allowed. Li Jianbin was even less inclined to pay him any attention.

……

Liu Hongchang was squatting by the sandpit, his hands covered in wet mud, helping his two children build sandcastles, humming a nonsensical tune: "A girl for four yuan and fifty cents, a building for five yuan and sixty cents..."

He had long since turned the backyard of the courtyard house into a children's playground: the swing frame was painted sky blue, the seesaw was padded with rubber mats, the sandpit was surrounded by a low wooden fence, even the little wooden horse was carved with mane textures, and the slide was polished smooth and slippery.

Yang Maixiang grumbled about this for half a month: "When I was taking care of the child, you didn't even buy a rattle! Now that you're taking care of the child yourself, you suddenly come up with all sorts of tricks? You're so tired you just collapse on a recliner and throw a mat on the floor for the child to sleep on—you've infected the child with your laziness!"

"You're blaming me for not doing it?" Liu Hongchang said without looking up. "I'm just trying to give them a taste of their childhood sweetness! Alright, alright, get to the factory and report for duty!"

"What kind of song is that 'The Girl Who Costs Four Yuan and Fifty Cents' you just sang? Who still believes in a brick house that costs three yuan and fifty cents these days? You must have gone crazy from being in the sun!" Yang Maixiang wrinkled her nose and leaned closer.

"You know nothing about art!" He brushed the sand off his hands, his face completely unfazed. "If I hadn't skipped class to practice my singing by the river back then, I would have been performing at the Capital Concert Hall long ago!"

"Art, my foot! You've lost your soul digging in the sand with your kid!" Yang Maixiang laughed as she picked up Liu Xinxin. "Give my little darling a kiss!" She planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead, grabbed her purse, and strode out the door.

No sooner had she left than Liu Yunchang stepped into the courtyard, shouting as he went, "Hongchang, everyone's here! Let's practice on that new courtyard house I just bought—if it turns out beautifully, we'll use it as a living advertisement!"

He grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth.

"Oh, so you're trying to get the renovation done for free?" Liu Hongchang glanced at him sideways. "Easier said than done."

"Do you know how hard it is for me? I just warmed up the house and you're already messing it up!" Liu Yunchang patted his younger brother on the shoulder. "That's called trust, understand? No need for thanks, just remember it!"

The two walked out arm in arm. Wang Cuilan led her two grandsons into the backyard, calling out towards the sandpit, "Xin Xin—take your brothers to play!" Turning back, she shouted towards the gate, "Lock the door tight! I don't want to have to go back looking for someone!"

Before he could finish speaking, the door clicked shut.

There are more street vendors now, and young people love to browse trendy shops, but this industry is still a tough nut to crack. Anyone who doesn't understand the ropes can only stare blankly.

Liu Hongchang originally wanted to take on a few street-front shops to test the waters, but Liu Yunchang insisted on starting with the courtyard house he had just acquired—two completely unrelated things. But he couldn't resist his older brother's insistence and had to admit defeat.

When Liu Hongchang arrived at the new house with its blue bricks and gray tiles, he looked up and saw several workers squatting under the screen wall, smoking. The cigarette butts glowed and faded like a few dying embers. With just these few people, the construction period was incredibly short; it would be ages before it even took to look like anything.

"Who's in charge here?" Liu Hongchang's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unyielding force.

An elderly craftsman with graying temples slowly stepped forward, his cuffs still stained with undried tung oil.

Liu Hongchang pointed to the messy overhead wires: "Our renovation is about creating a sense of style, not just piling things up. These cables look like old spider webs that have been tangled for thirty years, so they definitely need to be tidied up—first, we'll embed them into the walls with thick pine boxes, then straighten the wires and stuff them in, and finally, we'll fasten the covers so they fit perfectly. All the wooden walls will be primed and then topcoated, and we'll brush the boxes to a shine as well; the wooden floors will need three coats of clear varnish to show off the natural wood grain, making them smooth and non-slip underfoot. We'll replace the floor tiles that need replacing, sand the ones that need sanding, dredge the pond, wash the stones, and rebuild the edges; we'll remove the cracked tiles from the pavilion, flatten the warped ones, and repair the broken ones, and finally, we'll paint the entire courtyard with a coat of dark chestnut-colored moisture-proof paint."

He walked and talked, stopping in front of the screen wall, his tone becoming more serious: "The very structure of the courtyard house cannot be altered; every brick and tile must retain its old flavor. Only newly built storefronts and street-facing shops can be developed more freely."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned to find his elder brother, Liu Yunchang—he had to oversee the procurement of all the timber, paint, and tiles here. As for their old courtyard? Let's put that aside for now, and deal with it once things are more stable here.

With everything arranged, Liu Hongchang hurriedly returned home. According to his calculations, the entire courtyard would be completely transformed in as little as forty days, or at most sixty or seventy days.

A month passed in the blink of an eye.

Wentao received his first paycheck today. Clutching a few crumpled bills, he stood at the factory gate and suddenly remembered the days last year when he squatted by the brick kiln eating cold bread—it turns out that money isn't earned, it's earned through hard work, through scrimping and saving, bit by bit from between his teeth.

I've been wanting to switch jobs to Liu Hongchang's restaurant for a while, but without any connections, they won't even let me step over the threshold of the kitchen. I heard that the newest workers there earn at least fifty yuan a month, doing jobs like serving dishes and wiping tables.

Yang Maixiang stood on the open ground with the provincial capital construction team, holding the design sketches drawn by Liu Hongchang himself: the banquet hall was four stories high, with the first floor being 500 square meters, designed to be bright and airy; there was a three-story office building and two three-story staff dormitories; the kitchen was located on the fifth floor, equipped with a lift for serving dishes—hot dishes could be served directly to the banquet hall in three seconds.

The Liu family restaurant is going to build a new main venue on this vacant land, where ten wedding banquets can be held simultaneously without disturbing each other. The new venue will be expanded right next to the old shop. Once both sides are completed, the original rented street-facing shops will be vacated and converted into private restaurants in the courtyard, catering to discerning customers.

Liu Hongchang made more than twenty trips before finally obtaining the government's approval. Now construction sites are springing up everywhere, and construction teams are working on schedules as tightly as wound-up springs.

He's been constantly on his feet lately: keeping an eye on the new building's piling and pouring, and tending to his old shop that never stops burning. He had originally invited Liu Zi and Hou Dunzi to partner with him, but the two laughed and waved it off—they were too busy with their own stalls, and the money they were making right now was enough to feed their families, so they felt at ease.

Three breakfast stalls have opened in Houdunzi, and two noodle shops in Liuzi are also steadily operating. Life is going smoothly and warmly.

Before we knew it, it was 1990.

Early in the morning, the Liu siblings reluctantly got up amidst Yang Maixiang's shouts.

"What did I owe the Liu family in my past life? After serving the older ones, I still have to coax the younger ones! Going to school is like a death knell, I have to call them three times before they open their eyes? Are you studying for me?" She scolded as she tossed a dollar to the two children, watched them finish their two vegetarian buns, then climbed onto the slightly worn women's bicycle and rushed out of the courtyard.

Liu Hongchang and his two nephews stared at each other, neither daring to utter a word—if they dared to say anything, they would be nagged until the moon was high in the sky.

"Xiao Xi, Xin Xin, off to school!" Wen Peng and Wen Hao burst in carrying their faded blue cloth schoolbags, calling out "Good morning, Second Uncle" in their clear voices. The four little hands clasped together, and they took off running. The first and second graders were like four little sparrows just released from their cages, walking on tiptoe instead of their feet, and would disappear out of the yard in the blink of an eye.

Liu Yunchang leisurely finished his breakfast before strolling over, pulling Liu Hongchang along as they headed towards the decoration company. This team had been working with the two brothers for several years, growing from a small group of three or five bricklayers into a group of experts that even the province specifically requested to draw plans and supervise construction.

As soon as Yang Maixiang stepped into the wedding company, He Wenyuan came to greet her—wearing a well-tailored navy blue suit, carrying a kraft paper folder, and with his hair perfectly styled.

"Ms. Yang, these are the quarterly accounts for the provincial branch." She handed over the report with both hands.

Yang Maixiang glanced at it a few times, nodded and said, "Okay, fly to the provincial capital this afternoon, and I'll leave everything there to you."

Before the words were even finished, the two walked into the office side by side, their steps crisp and their backs straight.

He Wenyuan was assigned to a school after graduation, but resigned and went home in the second month. She couldn't hold on to the stable job that paid forty yuan a month—she preferred the fiery energy and busyness of Yang Maixiang's job to the chalk dust on the podium.

On his first day at the company, Yang Maixiang took him by her side and never left his side.

……

Two years ago, He Wenyuan received 500 yuan in her first month of internship. When she brought the money home, Yu Qiuhua was stunned, nearly dropping the rolling pin she was holding. Back then, when her daughter gave up her teaching position, Yu Qiuhua was so angry she didn't speak a complete word to her for three days—that was an indestructible, secure job!

But He Wenyuan's eyes were piercingly bright, and Yu Qiuhua could only sigh in the end, slamming the rolling pin heavily on the cutting board: "My daughter has grown up, her heart has become wild, let her be."