Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Just past five in the morning, the third single dormitory was still filled with deep sleep and the sounds of snoring. Outside the window, the sky was the deepest inky blue before dawn, with only a faint glimmer of light showing on the eastern horizon. Wei Chen quietly opened his eyes, his gaze clear, without a trace of the grogginess of early awakening. A hunter's biological clock is as precise as if it were wound up.

He sat up lightly, with such a slight movement that it barely rustled the bedding. In the dim light filtering through the window, he saw the man on the next bunk sleeping soundly, a small patch of his drool dampening the straw mat. The stale air, having fermented and settled overnight, had become even thicker and heavier.

Wei Chen silently put on his coat, picked up his enamel basin, towel, and toothbrush, and walked as lightly as a cat through the dimly lit, crowded gaps between the bunks to the pool at the dormitory entrance.

The icy tap water splashed onto his face, instantly dispelling the last vestiges of sleepiness. He quickly and thoroughly washed up, cold water droplets dripping down his sharply defined jawline.

Back in his bunk, he didn't turn on the light. Everyone in the dormitory was still fast asleep, occasionally someone would turn over and mumble a few words in their sleep.

Wei Chen went outside for a quick workout. He had a lot to do today and hadn't had a chance to exercise properly, so he went to find a place to have breakfast.

Wei Chen stopped his car in front of a steaming breakfast stall. The stall owner, a middle-aged man wearing a greasy apron, was deftly frying dough sticks, while a large pot of milky white soy milk simmered beside him. There were quite a few people in line, mostly workers rushing to work.

"Comrade, two fried dough sticks and a bowl of soy milk, please!" Wei Chen said as he stepped forward. "Alright! A fried dough stick is four cents and one ounce of grain coupons; a bowl of soy milk is two cents and no coupons needed! That's ten cents in total and two ounces of grain coupons!" The stall owner's voice was loud and clear as he worked non-stop.

Wei Chen took out his money and grain coupons and handed them over. The stall owner took them, glanced at the national emblem and the words "One City Two" on the grain coupons, nodded, picked up two golden and crispy fried dough sticks with long bamboo tongs, placed them on a piece of rough straw paper, and then ladled out a large bowl of hot soy milk and handed it over.

Wei Chen found a corner, and in the chilly morning air, he took a bite of a crispy, crumbly fried dough stick and drank a sip of piping hot, rich soy milk, instantly warming his stomach. Looking at the workers in front of him, mostly eating cornbread and pickled vegetables, he once again truly felt the weight of the "huge sum" in his pocket.

After eating and drinking his fill, Wei Chen returned to his dormitory. It was already getting light, and the dormitory was starting to stir. Some people yawned as they got up, clattering as they grabbed basins to wash up, while others rolled over and continued to laze in bed. Wei Chen didn't join the early risers; he sat quietly on his bunk, closing his eyes to rest, waiting for the other roommates to leave one by one.

When the long, drawn-out work chants echoed outside, and the last few workers lingering in the dormitory hurriedly put on their work clothes and ran out, it was nearly seven o'clock. Only Wei Chen remained in the large dormitory, the air still lingering with the warmth of human presence and the lingering scent of body odor. He then got up, straightened his clothes, and pushed open the door.

Wei Chen opened the small wooden cabinet with its peeling paint, which was crammed full: two brand-new dark blue steel mill work clothes, an enamel basin with red lettering, a tin thermos, an aluminum lunchbox, work gloves, soap, and a half-empty box of "Economy" cigarettes... These were all the work supplies he received when he reported for duty yesterday.

Wei Chen's gaze was calm. He reached out, his fingertips lightly touching the neatly folded work clothes. With a slight thought, he tried to put them into the hunter's hut, but he couldn't. One had to enter the hunter's hut personally to put things away.

With a thought, he directly put them into his spatial backpack, then entered the hunter's hut, put everything down, and placed the less frequently used items into his hunter's spatial storage. He checked the outer rooms (which can be viewed from the hunter's hut), and finding no one had entered, he slipped out.

After doing all this, Wei Chen finally breathed a sigh of relief. These temporarily unnecessary burdens now had a safe place to be stored, saving him a lot of trouble and minimizing the traces of his "carrying" them. He locked the empty cabinet, leaving only the casual clothes he wore yesterday and the important items in his inner pocket.

It was eight o'clock, the factory's work bell rang, and the neighborhood committee should be at work.

Wei Chen straddled the "Forever" 28-inch bicycle, its wheels rolling over the potholed concrete of the dormitory area, merging into the torrent of people going to work at the steel rolling mill. But instead of heading towards the factory gate, he turned in the opposite direction, riding towards the neighborhood office.

Wei Chen pushed his cart to the street office where Nanluoguxiang is located. It was a courtyard with a bit of the old-fashioned government office style, but it had obviously been renovated, with a white sign with black characters hanging at the entrance. The gatekeeper was an old man with gray hair, wearing a faded Zhongshan suit, and was reading a newspaper while wearing reading glasses.

Wei Chen parked his car, walked over, and said with a perfectly timed smile, "Sir, hello! I need to ask you something. I want to register my household registration and property registration. Which office should I go to?"

The old man lifted his eyelids from above his reading glasses, glanced at Wei Chen and his new car, and slowly asked, "Do you have a letter of introduction from your employer and proof of household registration transfer?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Wei Chen quickly pulled out his brand-new steel rolling mill employee ID card, as well as the stack of documents stamped with a bright red official seal from Zheng Laiyun yesterday, proving the purchase of the east wing and permission for renovation, and handed them over. "I am a new employee of the steel rolling mill. I bought the vacant land in the east wing of No. 95 Nanluoguxiang in response to the policy, and I plan to build my own house. I'm here to complete the relevant procedures."

The old man took the documents, carefully examined the work permit and the steel mill's bright red official seal, then handed the permit and documents back to Wei Chen. He casually took the "Economy" cigarette that Wei Chen offered him, lit it with Wei Chen's signature match, and took a puff: "Hmm, for residency and grain and oil relations, go to the household registration department, the first office on the left after entering. For housing registration and building permits, go to the housing management department, the second door on the right."

"Thank you, sir!" Wei Chen said, pushing the cart into the yard.

The courtyard of the neighborhood office was bustling with people, more noisy and bustling than the factory. Following the directions, he first went to the first gate on the left, where a sign read "Household Registration Management Section".

There were two desks facing each other in the office. A female staff member in her twenties was writing something with her head down, while a male staff member in his forties, wearing arm sleeves, had just picked up a teacup.

"Comrade, hello! I'm here to process your household registration and grain and oil ration." Wei Chen handed over his work permit, the certificate issued by the village, and the acceptance certificate from the steel rolling mill.

The male officer put down his teacup, took the materials, adjusted his glasses, and carefully reviewed each page. The process was clear, there was a proper receiving unit, the materials were complete, and the household registration itself was not complicated. He took out a thick household registration book and asked Wei Chen for some basic information: name, age, place of origin, education level, political affiliation, original address, etc., which Wei Chen answered one by one.

"Registered address?" the officer asked. "No. 95, Nanluoguxiang, east wing," Wei Chen answered clearly, while handing over the document issued by the steel mill, proving that the property had been sold to him and that he was permitted to build on it.

The clerk glanced at the document, nodded, and neatly wrote down the address in the register. Then, he took out a small book with a dark brown hard cover, opened it, and began to fill it out—this was the crucial "Urban Residents' Grain and Oil Supply Certificate," commonly known as the grain book.

"The standard monthly ration is 30 jin, of which 30% is refined grains (flour, rice), totaling 9 jin; and 70% is coarse grains (cornmeal, dried sweet potatoes, etc.), totaling 21 jin." The clerk wrote down the standard as he recited it. "With this certificate, you can purchase grains at the designated grain store each month. The non-staple food book (a voucher for purchasing non-staple foods such as meat, eggs, sugar, and oil) will be processed together later."

After filling out the basic information in the grain ration book and attaching a one-inch black and white photo of Wei Chen (which had been prepared at the factory yesterday), we stamped it with the bright red official seal of the street office. Next was the non-staple food ration book, also a small hard-cover booklet, which recorded Wei Chen's name, address, and basic non-staple food quota.

"The grain and oil rationing takes effect this month. You can take this booklet to the Third Grain Store at the west entrance of Nanluoguxiang to complete the supply procedures. The non-staple food ration booklet can also be used now." The clerk explained, handing two brand-new booklets to Wei Chen. This is truly an era where the people are in charge.

Holding these two thin yet incredibly heavy booklets, Wei Chen felt a weight lifted from his heart. These were the foundation for survival in this era! Only with them could he truly say he had put down roots in this city.

Next, he went to the "Housing Management Office" across the street. The person in charge there was a man in his thirties surnamed Liu, with a round face and a slight Beijing accent; he seemed quite amiable.

Wei Chen explained his purpose and handed over all the certificates issued by the steel rolling mill regarding the purchase of the vacant land in the east wing of No. 95 Nanluoguxiang and permission to rebuild the house.

Officer Liu examined the documents very carefully, especially the signature of Zheng Laiyun from the steel rolling mill's housing management department and the clear official seal. He looked at them several times before nodding: "Hmm, the procedures are fine. The certificate issued by the steel rolling mill is recognized by the subdistrict office. You're responding to the policy by converting public housing to private ownership and building your own house, which is a good thing!" He took out a thick register and recorded Wei Chen's information, house address, area, property rights, and source of ownership, and stamped it with the official seal of the subdistrict office's housing management department.

"Alright, Comrade Wei Chen, this counts as registered with the street office. From now on, this east wing is your private property." Officer Liu handed Wei Chen a stamped registration certificate receipt. "Planning to re-stamp it, right? Is there a procedure in place?"

"I was just about to ask you something," Wei Chen said, offering Liu a cigarette. Liu smiled and waved it off. "I'm new to Beijing and completely clueless. Who should I contact for building a house? Are there any rules?"

Officer Liu was very helpful: "As for the rules, you have all the necessary permits. Just build according to the plans, don't exceed the height limit, and don't encroach on public land. As for who to build it..." He hesitated for a moment, "Our neighborhood has a construction cooperative. The experienced craftsmen there are all quite skilled and reliable. I recommend one to you, Master Wu Degui. He's a veteran, with family-inherited skills, specializing in courtyard house repairs. He's also an honest man. He lives at the east end of Mao'er Hutong, and his house number is..."

Wei Chen quickly wrote down the address and name.