Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

He Daqing left after noon.

His figure wasn't exactly disheveled, just somewhat flustered, his steps hurried and faltering. At the hanging flower gate, he tripped, staggering half a step, but didn't turn back. Several households in the courtyard peeked through their windows; no one saw him off, no one stopped him. The doors were all tightly shut, as if the commotion that morning had been nothing more than an illusion under the sun.

He Yuzhu stood at the door of the west wing, watching the figure disappear into the alleyway, his heart completely calm. The resentment from his past life had vanished the moment he was reborn last night. Now, he saw her as nothing more than a stranger.

Rain tugged at his sleeve, his eyes red: "Brother, is Dad really gone?"

"Let's go." He squatted down, picked up his sister and carried her back to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) in the house. "Yushui, from now on it's just the two of us."

He took out the wheat flour he had exchanged yesterday, mixed it with cornmeal, kneaded a small dough, and baked two small, golden pancakes. Yu Shui held the pancakes, taking small bites, and a smile finally appeared on her face. He Yu Zhu also ate one. The aroma of the wheat flour mixed with the sweetness of the grain slid down her throat, warming her empty stomach.

He watched his sister eat while he made his own plans.

The meager apprenticeship pay and rations from Fengzeyuan Garden weren't enough to feed two people, let alone save anything. Enlistment had to be expedited, but what about Yushui? She was only five years old; they couldn't just abandon her.

These people in the courtyard… Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong might be able to look after them for a while, but they are two shrewd men who value superficial relationships and long-term calculations. Expecting them to genuinely care for Yushui? Impossible. The Jia family? With Jia Zhangshi's mouth and her cunning, he wouldn't dare entrust his sister to them even if it meant death. Yan Bugui? He's a master of manipulation.

After thinking it over, only one thing remained—the deaf old lady in the backyard.

This old lady was a unique presence in the courtyard. Everyone said she was hard of hearing, had a strange temper, and lived all alone. But having lived for decades in her previous life, He Yuzhu gradually came to understand her. This old lady was as sharp as a mirror. Her husband seemed to have been quite capable in his younger days, leaving behind two rooms in the backyard and a certain amount of unspoken confidence. She had no children and usually didn't get involved in gossip, but when it mattered, even Yi Zhonghai had to think twice before speaking up.

More importantly, He Yuzhu vaguely remembered that one winter in his previous life, Yushui had a high fever and almost died. It was a deaf old lady who went to the street in the dark to find a doctor and even paid for the medicine herself, without ever mentioning repaying it. He always remembered this kindness.

She's the one.

Having made up his mind, he carried Yushui to the kang (a heated brick bed) after she finished eating: "Yushui, be good, play by yourself for a while, I have some errands to run."

After closing the door, he didn't go straight to the backyard but went back to his room first. With a thought, the azure system screen unfolded.

Points Balance: 9990

He found the redemption list.

[Premium white flour: 1 point/jin]

Silver Dollar (Yuan Shikai Dollar): 3 points/piece

"Exchange for ten catties of flour." As soon as the thought crossed his mind, 10 points were deducted, and a sturdy cloth bag appeared in the corner of the system space.

"Exchange for thirty silver dollars." Then deduct 90 points. A pile of heavy, serrated silver dollars appeared with a clatter, gleaming faintly.

I used 100 points in total, leaving me with 9890. It wasn't much, but in 1950 Beiping, especially in this large courtyard, it was a coveted hard currency.

He didn't take it all. He only took out about two pounds of flour and put it in a clean cloth bag. The remaining eight pounds of flour and thirty silver dollars remained in the system space. Although that space was only one cubic meter, access was instantaneous, making it safer than anywhere else.

He carried a small bag of flour and walked through the courtyard. A shadowy figure seemed to flicker behind Yi Zhonghai's window, but he ignored it. From the Jia family came Jia Zhangshi's veiled criticism, probably about Qin Huairu's inefficient work, but he pretended not to hear it either.

The backyard was quieter and narrower. The deaf old lady lived in the room on the east side, with a small shed in front of it piled with coal briquettes and old household items.

The door was ajar.

He Yuzhu knocked on the peeling wooden door, but there was no response. He knocked twice more, this time with a little more force.

"Who is it? Come in, the door isn't locked." The voice was hoarse and slow.

He pushed open the door and went in. The room was dimly lit, with the distinctive smell of an old person's room, a mixture of faint medicinal scent and the aroma of old wood. The deaf old woman sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) by the window, her back slightly hunched, holding a half-finished shoe sole in her hand, the needle and thread moving back and forth between her thin but steady fingers. Dim yellow light filtered through the old window paper, illuminating her full head of white hair and deep wrinkles.

She raised her eyelids, glanced at He Yuzhu, and continued working: "Oh, it's Zhuzi. Your father... is gone?"

The voice was flat and ordinary, like asking, "Have you eaten?"

He Yuzhu felt a chill run down her spine. The commotion at the Intermediate People's Court this morning—could she have heard it all? Did she really hear it, or was she just guessing? Or perhaps, nothing in this court could escape her seemingly clouded eyes?

"Okay, I'm leaving." He didn't say much, gently placing the cloth bag on the peeling octagonal table. "Grandma, I brought you some flour, not much, just mix it in."

The old woman paused in her needlework. She squinted, examined the bag closely, then looked at He Yuzhu: "Flour? You child, life has just gotten tough, what are you giving this to an old woman like me for? Take it back, give it to your sister."

He Yuzhu didn't touch that side. Instead, he took two steps forward, walked to the kang (a heated brick bed), and knelt down without a word. His knees hit the hard bricks with a dull thud.

The commotion made the deaf old woman finally stop. She put down the shoe sole and the needle, and looked at the boy kneeling before her.

"Grandma," He Yuzhu looked up, her eyes unwavering, "My father is gone, and from now on it's just me and Yushui at home. I... I probably won't be here long, I have to go and take care of something important."

The deaf old woman didn't speak, she just stared at him.

"Yushui is only five years old, I can't take her in. In this courtyard, the only person I can trust is you, sir." His voice was low, but every word was heavy. "Please, take care of Yushui for a few years. You don't have to treat her like your own granddaughter, just give her some food, a place to sleep, and don't let anyone bully her."

He paused for a moment, then said, "This bag of flour is a small token of my appreciation. From now on... I will try to send you two silver dollars every month to help you and Yushui." He didn't say where the silver dollars came from, nor could he.

The deaf old woman remained silent for a long time after listening. The room was extremely quiet, with only the occasional whistle of pigeons flitting by outside.

Suddenly, she hissed – she had been distracted and pricked her finger with the needle. She brought her finger to her lips, licked away the drop of blood, and moved slowly.

Then, she looked at He Yuzhu again. Something flashed in her cloudy eyes—sharp and clear, unlike the eyesight and hearing of an old man.

"Pillar," she began, her voice still hoarse but faster, "tell Grandma the truth. The 'big thing' you're going to do, is it... something involving guns and cannons, something that could cost lives?"

He Yuzhu's heart skipped a beat. She was indeed extraordinary. After a moment of silence, he didn't answer directly, but only said, "It's something a man should do."

This is tantamount to admitting it.

The deaf old woman stared at him for a long while, her gaze seemingly trying to pierce through him. Finally, she let out a long, slow breath.

"Take this," she said, pointing to the white flour on the table. "My old bones can still move. I get some subsidies from the neighborhood committee, so I won't starve."

Before He Yuzhu could speak, she continued, "You can leave Yushui here. I have an extra pair of chopsticks, so I won't need her."

He Yuzhu's throat tightened: "Grandma..."

"Let me finish," the old woman waved her hand, her wrinkles deepening, but her tone carrying an undeniable firmness, "I don't want a single penny of the money. You keep it; it'll be useful. But you'd better remember this, He Yuzhu."

She called him by his full name.

"I'll look after your sister and keep an eye on those two rooms in the west wing. You can go and do your business with peace of mind. But—"

She leaned forward slightly, lowered her voice, and every word pierced He Yuzhu's ears:

"You'd better come back alive."

"If you don't come back..." The old woman's voice choked for a moment, then hardened further, "Even if I sell these two rooms and pawn everything, I'll raise Yushui and make her successful! No one can even dream of owning anything from the He family!"

He Yuzhu's nose suddenly stung with tears. He said nothing, but bent down, pressed his forehead against the cold, hard brick floor, and solemnly and firmly kowtowed three times.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound wasn't loud, but it felt like it was hitting my heart.

After kowtowing, he straightened up, his eyes red-rimmed but without tears. He looked at the deaf old woman and nodded heavily.

"Go on," the old woman picked up the shoe sole again, waved her hand, and resumed her slow, deliberate manner. "Bring the rainwater over; you can sleep here tonight. You should also get ready early."

He Yuzhu got up, walked to the door, and glanced back. The old lady had already lowered her head and continued sewing shoe soles, as if nothing had happened.

He took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and hurried back to the west wing.

Rain was staring blankly at a tattered rag doll when he saw him return, and his eyes lit up.

He Yuzhu squatted down and put his hands on her shoulders: "Yushui, I have something to tell you."

"Um?"

"I might have to go on a long trip in a while to make money, a lot of money." He tried to keep his tone light. "When I'm not here, why don't you go stay with Grandma Deaf in the backyard? There's candy there."

Rain blinked, a little confused, but nodded nonetheless: "Then...brother, when are you coming back?"

"Soon," he patted her head, "Rain, be good, eat well, sleep well, listen to Grandma Deaf, remember?"

"I understand." Rain nodded vigorously. "Brother, I'll be good. Come back soon."

"it is good."

He helped her pack a few changes of clothes and the doll, then took her little hand and led her back to the backyard.

The deaf old woman had already opened the door and was waiting, her face expressionless, only waving to the rain: "Girl, come here."

Yu Shui looked at her brother, then at the old lady, released He Yuzhu's hand, and walked over.

"Grandma," she called softly.

"Yes," the old lady replied, taking her hand. "Come inside, Grandma will find you something good."

He Yuzhu stood at the door, watching Yu Shui's small figure follow the old lady into the house, and the door gently closed in front of him.

He stood there for a while until the sun in the west began to set, casting a dim golden edge on the gray roof of the courtyard.

It's getting windy and a bit chilly.

He turned and walked toward his suddenly empty west wing.

The road ahead is long. The first step has finally been taken.