Rebirth in a Courtyard: I Am a Little Hunter

Yi Zhonghai listened without much emotion on his face, but he knew exactly what was going on. He was well aware of the Jia family's situation, and in some ways, it was the result he was "happy to see."

In recent years, he has been teaching Jia Dongxu about fitter techniques, but his explanations are often vague and confusing. He has imparted a lot of intermediate and advanced knowledge, but he has always "just happened" not to explain the most basic, practical, and quick-upgrade tips.

Jia Dongxu wasn't very bright to begin with, and he only half-understood what he heard. Naturally, he kept failing the exams, and his professional level remained stuck at level one.

When Wei Chen reminded the Jia family to find a way to transfer the household registration of Jia Zhangshi and Qin Huairu, he vaguely helped the Jia family get away with it, fearing that if the Jia family's life got better, his help and kindness as the "elder brother" would not be apparent.

But man proposes, God disposes, and they were struck by this devastating year of famine! Grain was precious, and black market prices skyrocketed. The Jia family's bottomless pit had become an insatiable hole, a stone weighing heavily on Yi Zhonghai's heart.

His prestige in the courtyard has plummeted, and it's unlikely he can rely on his influence to "call upon" the neighbors to help the Jia family anymore.

"Yeah, life's tough," Yi Zhonghai replied casually, his gaze passing over Jia Dongxu's worried face and looking into the distance.

Just then, he saw Sha Zhu, who had failed to catch up with Xu Damao, grumbling and carrying two bulging aluminum lunchboxes, walking towards the courtyard with a gloomy expression, muttering, "That grandson runs faster than a rabbit."

Yi Zhonghai's cloudy old eyes narrowed slightly, and an idea flashed into his mind like a match struck in the darkness. The Jia family, this insatiable hole… Sha Zhu! This hothead, loyal, easily influenced, and most importantly, he has something to offer—leftovers from the cafeteria!

Yi Zhonghai's facial muscles relaxed almost imperceptibly for a moment, and a faint, calculating smile flashed across his rigid lips.

He withdrew his gaze and looked at Jia Dongxu, who was still sighing. His tone softened, carrying a calmness that suggested "your master is thinking of you": "Dongxu, don't worry too much. I'll have your master's wife send you some cornmeal later, just to tide you over. As for the food..."

He paused, then lowered his voice, "In a couple of days, when it's late at night, come with me to the 'ghost market' and see if we can find some food. Remember, don't tell anyone about this, keep it to yourself."

Upon hearing that there was food, Jia Dongxu's eyes immediately lit up. He nodded repeatedly, and the sorrow on his face lessened somewhat: "Thank you, Master! Thank you, Master! I promise, I'll never tell!" It was as if that little bit of cornmeal and the faint hope of the black market were life-saving straws.

Wei Chen was sitting in his small office in the security department. The department had all collected their salaries that morning, so it was quiet.

In front of him, a cheap jasmine tea stalk was steeping in an enamel mug, steam rising gently. Big Yellow lay quietly at his feet, its chin resting on its front paws, the leather collar with the police badge around its neck gleaming softly in the light streaming through the window.

He held two envelopes in his hand. One was slightly thicker, containing his own salary: Level 4 clerk, fifty-six yuan, plus a four-yuan allowance for the few night shifts he worked this month, totaling sixty yuan.

The other envelope was slightly thinner, containing Big Yellow's police dog allowance: thirty-five yuan, along with separately allocated meat coupons, grain coupons, and oil coupons. When Xiao Zhang from the finance department handed it to him, several people from other departments who were there on business nearby practically had their eyes glued to the thick envelope, their envious clicks of the tongue making no attempt to hide their feelings.

"Officer Wei, your dog Dahuang's treatment...tsk tsk, it's even higher than my husband's salary!" "That's right! Wei Chen, you're truly a 'dual-income household,' no, a 'one person and one dog' with double salaries! Everyone's envious!" Wei Chen just smiled faintly, said "It's all work," and signed the document.

He stuffed both envelopes into his pocket, picked up the enamel mug, blew away the tea stems floating on top, and slowly sipped. The noise of the finance department queuing outside drifted in faintly, but he didn't even lift his eyelids, as if that were a world apart from his own.

The setting sun cast long, thin shadows. A unique aroma, a blend of cooking food and coal smoke, filled the courtyard, even more intense than usual. Smoke billowed from every small kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans echoing through the air. Those who had received their wages and were a little better off financially tended to add a little more oil to their meals than usual.

Sha Zhu carried two heavy lunchboxes into the front yard, his gloom still lingering on his face. Just as he reached the vicinity of the hanging flower gate, he was stopped by the sharp-eyed Yan Bugui.

Yan Bugui held a feather duster, pretending to dust off his old bicycle, but his eyes were fixed on the lunchbox in Sha Zhu's hand like hooks. A warm yet calculating smile spread across his face: "Hey, Zhu's back! You're off work early today! Wow, this lunchbox… looks pretty honest! Leftovers from the factory's employee meals, right? It smells delicious!"

He sniffed hard, as if he could really smell it through the aluminum lunchbox. Sha Zhu was annoyed and glared at Yan Bugui: "Third Uncle, your nose is really sharp! It's as good as Wei Chen's big yellow dog! What? Trying to freeload again?" He deliberately hid the lunchbox behind his back.

Yan Bugui's smile froze for a moment, then he became even more enthusiastic: "Look at what you're saying! Zhuzi, do you think your third uncle is that kind of person? Look at you cooking all by yourself, you can't even finish all this good food, it'll just go to waste if you leave it for too long, won't it? Wasting food is shameful! In our courtyard, we believe in mutual help..."

"Stop, stop!" Sha Zhu interrupted him impatiently. "Third Uncle, save your 'scheming and mutual assistance' for someone else! Even if my vegetables are spoiled, feeding them to Dahuang is my business! You should hurry home and decide whether your corn porridge for tonight is thicker or thinner!" After saying that, he walked past Yan Bugui and headed towards his own room in the middle courtyard without looking back, leaving Yan Bugui standing there, his face turning red and white, his hands clenching the feather duster tightly.

Yi Zhonghai stood behind the window of his house, the curtains slightly drawn, taking in the entire scene in the front yard. Seeing Sha Zhu leave Yan Bugui speechless, and looking at the two heavy lunchboxes in Yan Bugui's hands, the calculating smile on Yi Zhonghai's lips deepened.

This simpleton, Sha Zhu, is ruthless towards shrewd swindlers like Yan Laoxi, but he's incredibly soft-hearted towards "pitiful people," especially "pitiful people" like Qin Huairu... "The Jia family is a bottomless pit... it's time to find a new 'pillar' to support it." Yi Zhonghai muttered to himself silently, a smile slowly spreading across his wrinkled face, carrying a cold certainty.

The atmosphere in the Jia family compound was oppressive. On the small dining table sat a bowl of cornmeal porridge so thin you could see your reflection in it, and a small dish of dark, pickled vegetable dumplings.

Madam Jia sat cross-legged on the kang (a heated brick bed), holding a hard, greasy shoe sole in her hand, stabbing it hard with an awl while muttering curses under her breath: "...That damned black-hearted bastard! A beast like him doesn't deserve to eat the emperor's grain! Thirty-five yuan! Thirty-five yuan! How much flour could that buy? How long would that last for our family? It's all been fed to the dogs! You deserve to die a horrible death! And that Wei Chen, that childless widow, what kind of luck did he get..."

She dared not speak loudly; her voice came out muffled from her toothless, sunken mouth, but her resentful gaze was like a poisoned needle, fiercely piercing the direction of the backyard.

Qin Huairu held her several-month-old baby, sitting on a small stool, feeding him thin porridge little by little with a small spoon. She listened to her mother-in-law's curses, her face expressionless, only her eyes revealing deep weariness and a trace of numb bitterness.

After getting married, she followed Jia Zhangshi's arrangements and registered her household in the countryside. Now, her children are registered under their mother's name, and both of her children have rural household registrations. Out of the family of five, four have rural household registrations, leaving only Jia Dongxu with his ration. The others try to buy higher-priced grain, but with grain prices soaring, they can't even buy it!

With her thirty-one yuan, Jia Dongxu could only buy a limited amount of grain after deducting necessities. Looking at her daughter Xiaodang's thin face, and then at Banggeng and Xiaodang on the kang (heated brick bed) staring longingly at the porridge bowl, clearly not full, her heart felt as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible hand.

Wei Chen's family... Da Huang... Thirty-five yuan... These words swirled in her mind, bringing a sharp yet powerless sting. She brushed aside the stray hairs that had slipped down her forehead, revealing her faded cuffs, and continued to feed the child in silence.

Jia Dongxu pushed open the door dejectedly, clutching the thirty-one yuan in his hand as if it were a red-hot iron. He gave Jia Zhangshi three yuan for her retirement, then thought for a moment and took out ten yuan to hand to Qin Huairu, his voice muffled: "Here, keep it. This month is tough! In a couple of days, I'll go to the ghost market with my uncle to see if we can find any grain."

Qin Huairu silently took the money, didn't even count it, and stuffed it into a small cloth bag in the corner of the kang cabinet. Jia Zhangshi immediately stopped chiseling and craned her neck: "Dongxu! Where's the money? Is this all? What's that enough for? Where's the flour? Banggeng was clamoring for flour buns yesterday!"

Jia Dongxu scratched his head in frustration: "Mom! Do you think I don't want to? This little bit of money is barely enough to buy expensive grain! White flour? We're lucky if we can even get cornmeal to eat!"

"I don't care!" Madam Jia threw down her shoe. "I've suffered my whole life, and now I'm old and I don't even have a decent meal? This is the time when babies are growing! It's all because you're useless! Look at other people..." She was about to start berating them again.

"Alright!" Jia Dongxu abruptly interrupted her, his voice filled with suppressed anger. "Master said he'll have an old lady bring over some cornmeal later! He'll also take me to figure out how to get more grain in a couple of days! Stop nagging!"

He brought up Yi Zhonghai, which finally silenced Jia Zhangshi temporarily. Jia Zhangshi snorted, picked up the shoe sole again, and poked at it even harder, as if the sole was Wei Chen's or Da Huang's face.

The atmosphere at Liu Haizhong's house in the backyard wasn't good either. Second Uncle Liu Haizhong, holding a teacup, sat in the main seat at the eight-immortal table, his face gloomy.

On the table lay his newly received wages—sixty-seven yuan and fifty cents for a level six blacksmith. The money wasn't a small amount, but his aunt's nagging made him feel uneasy.