Siheyuan: Reborn Silly Pillar, Taking Control of the Entire Courtyard

As He Yuzhu stepped out of the inner room, he closed the door behind him. The suffocating feeling of being locked in by two pairs of gazes finally eased.

He exhaled a long breath, which turned into a cloud of white mist in the cold air and then dissipated.

The back of my shirt was already soaked with cold sweat, and it felt chilly against my back.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, a bone-chilling cold crept up his trousers, making him shiver. The fine sweat on his back instantly condensed into a sticky, damp layer.

He shrugged impassively, then rubbed his rough hands haphazardly on his back, trying to dispel the chill, more like trying to hide his inner turmoil.

The old lady's eyes...

That's too toxic.

Although he couldn't hear, his cloudy yet deep eyes seemed to penetrate his skin and reach his heart, seeing through his little secret thoughts.

And then there's his mother, Zhang, whose eyes were even more captivating, with a knowing, mocking smile playing on her lips.

It was obvious that he had seen through his act of feigning ignorance, but he deliberately kept quiet, like a cat playing with a mouse, waiting to see him slip up on his own.

The kitchen was as cold as an icebox, devoid of any human presence.

Next to the cutting board was a chipped enamel basin, in which soybeans that had been soaking overnight were being soaked.

After soaking overnight, the beans absorbed all the water, swelled up, and became round and plump, with wrinkled skins, like old men with wrinkled faces.

A few dusty potatoes were piled up in the corner, still covered in mud that hadn't been washed off.

The cabbage next to it looked even more listless; its outer leaves had wilted, the edges were turning yellowish, and it drooped limply on the ground.

He Yuzhu walked to the sink and habitually turned on the tap—with a "click," there was only a dry, metallic scraping sound; not a drop of water came out.

These days, scheduled water supply is the norm, so it looks like I'll have to get water from the hand pump well in the yard.

He picked up the chipped tin bucket; the walls were so thin they hurt his hands.

Walking to the water trough in the courtyard, you'll find the communal hand pump.

The metal handle was icy cold in the winter; the moment you gripped it, the chill instantly spread from your fingertips throughout your body.

He breathed out a couple of breaths, rubbed his hands together, and strained his arms. "Squeak—squeak—", the heavy lever groaned in pain.

After pressing down several times, a stream of murky water with a rusty and muddy smell gushed out first, followed by a rush of clear water.

The bucket was filled with water and felt heavy.

He Yuzhu carried the bucket back, his steps steady, his back straight, looking like nothing had happened.

But only he knew that his mind was in complete turmoil.

How do I get things out of the space through the open?

This is an unsolvable deadlock.

His current predicament is that he cannot leave the courtyard house at all.

Although it was easy for him to climb over the wall, the problem was that he went out empty-handed and came back with a bunch of refined rice, flour, and canned cured meat—wasn't that just blatantly walking into the line of fire?

The police had just searched the yard, but they didn't find anything. However, things were getting tense outside, and the neighborhood committee aunties were keeping a close eye on every household.

He went back to the kitchen, picked up a cleaver, and started chopping scallions.

With swift, fluid movements, the white part of the scallion was sliced ​​into even, translucent thin strips, which were then neatly arranged on a plate.

The ginger is sliced ​​as thin as a cicada's wing; the garlic is crushed, and the garlic juice splatters, filling the air with a pungent and spicy aroma that slightly dispels the chill.

He was doing his work well, but his mind was racing.

Selling it secretly?

No, the crackdown on speculation and profiteering is very strict now. Once caught, you'll be considered a counter-revolutionary and sent directly to a labor camp.

They said they found it?

That won't do either. How can you find a sack of flour on the street?

Who believes?

One thought after another popped up, only to be ruthlessly extinguished by him.

From the inner room came the old lady's hearty laughter; she was truly happy, her smile spreading across her face.

Immediately following was his mother, Zhang, who chimed in with a mischievous tone. The two of them sang in unison, whispering something to each other.

I reckon he's still the center of attention.

He Yuzhu shook his head helplessly, but his hands didn't stop moving.

He took a dark, earthenware pot from the corner of the wall and placed it on the honeycomb briquette stove.

The casserole contains leftover pig's trotter soup from last night, which has solidified into a pure white jelly after cooling overnight.

The flames licked the bottom of the pot, making a soft "crackling" sound.

The white jelly slowly melted, turning into a milky white broth that began to bubble.

The rich aroma of meat rose with the steam.

He lifted the pot lid, grabbed a handful of soaked soybeans, and poured them in with a "whoosh".

Steam rose instantly, carrying the aroma of soybeans and the rich fragrance of pig's trotters, like an invisible hand that instantly filled the small kitchen and even drifted out into the yard through the crack in the door.

"Brother Pillar!"

Suddenly, half a head peeked in through the window, with messy hair and a pair of shifty eyes.

It was Xu Damao. The young man still had a fawning, smug smile on his face, his eyes fixed on the bubbling broth in the casserole, as if it were some kind of celestial elixir.

"What are you making for lunch? I can smell the delicious aroma through the window!"

He Yuzhu looked up, saw it was him, and smiled.

He stirred the pot with the spoon in his hand, deliberately making the aroma stronger.

"Hey, Da Mao, your nose's sharper than a dog's! You came right up here by smell? Did your mom beat you up? Is your butt all swollen yet?"

"Don't even mention it..."

Xu Damao shrank his neck, subconsciously touched his back, and showed a pained yet relieved expression on his face.

"My mother really hit her hard; she even broke the feather duster. Now, she's tired and gone to rest, so I took the opportunity to sneak out for some fresh air."

He paused, looked around, lowered his voice, leaned close to the window, and said mysteriously.

"Brother Zhu, thank you so much for what happened earlier! I finally got my revenge—hehe, you didn't see it, my mom was beating Jia Dongxu to a pulp, he was screaming like a pig being slaughtered!"

After saying that, he quickly shrank back, afraid of being seen.

Immediately afterwards, the door of the He family's house was gently pushed open a crack.

Xu Damao nimbly slipped in like a mouse stealing oil, gently closed the door behind him, and then tiptoed into the kitchen.

Once inside, he could no longer maintain his cautious demeanor. His eyes were fixed on the casserole dish, his nose twitched, and saliva was practically dripping down his chin.

"Go! Go! Go."

He Yuzhu waved his hand dismissively, pushing him away. "If you want to eat, go home and have your mother cook it. Can't you see how small this pot is? It's not even enough for my mother and grandma, let alone you!"

Although they said that, their actions told a different story.

He placed the large pot on the other end, added water, put the steamer basket on it, and took out six golden-yellow cornbread buns from the flour jar and arranged them on top.

After thinking for a moment, glancing at the longing look on Xu Damao's face, he took two more from inside and put them on top.

"Just let me eat here, Brother Zhu! I'll just have a small bite!"

Xu Damao was unwilling to leave. He grinned and moved even closer, his nose almost touching the edge of the pot, his breath coming in a loud "whoosh" sound.

He Yuzhu couldn't help but laugh when he saw how greedy he looked.

This kid really doesn't learn his lesson. I beat him up a lot before, but he forgets it as soon as he turns around. His skin is incredibly thick.

"Brother Zhu, please don't chase me away. I know you have the kindest heart."

Seeing that his gentle approach wasn't working, Xu Damao's eyes lit up, and he moved even closer, mysteriously pulling something out of his pocket and waving it in front of He Yuzhu's eyes.

That was a slingshot.

"This was made from scrap steel that my dad got from the steel mill—pure steel! The rubber band was cut from a new bicycle inner tube, it's really sturdy! Brother Zhu, if you let me eat here, I'll lend you this slingshot to play with for a day, how about it?"

He Yuzhu glanced at the slingshot, his eyes flickering slightly.

The workmanship is indeed excellent; the steel frame is polished very smoothly and has a substantial weight.

That rubber band was thick and sturdy; it was clearly a high-quality item.

In this era of scarcity, this thing was definitely a luxury in the eyes of children.

Xu Damao's father really went to great lengths for this kid.

slingshot……

In this chaotic era, this thing is a great weapon for ambushing and scheming.

But he couldn't agree so easily.

Xu Damao is a cunning fellow. He's only pretending to come for a free meal; his real intention is to get close to me and have me protect him in the future.

Besides, these days everyone's struggling financially, so why would anyone go to someone else's house and eat and drink for free?

"no."

He Yuzhu shook his head, his face serious.

"When you eat at my house, you have to follow the rules. You have to go back and ask your mother first, and I have to ask my mother if she agrees. What kind of behavior is this, so disrespectful to elders?"

"Hey, Brother Zhu, slow down! Don't lift the lid! Wait for me! I'm going to ask right now!"

Afraid that he would change his mind, Xu Damao stuffed the slingshot into He Yuzhu's shirt pocket and, without waiting for his reply, turned around and ran out as if his butt was on fire.

He Yuzhu watched the boy's retreating figure and shook his head helplessly. His impatience hadn't changed at all.

The stove burners are all occupied, so I can't cook.

He sat on a small stool by the stove and took out a slingshot from his pocket to play with.

The steel frame felt cold and heavy in his hand, the elastic bands taut. He gripped the leather pouch and pulled it back slightly—

"what?"

The rubber band was incredibly elastic, and its tensile strength was much greater than he had imagined.

With his current strength, even pulling a full moon would be a bit of a struggle, let alone for Xu Damao, that half-grown child.

He suddenly realized—was this kid trying to curry favor with him because he couldn't pull the slingshot and found it boring?

That's quite a clever plan.

Xu Damao ran home in a flash.

Inside the room, Zhao Cuifeng was sitting in front of her dressing table, carefully examining the injuries on her face in front of a blurry mirror.

This morning, during my fight with Jia Zhangshi, I was scratched several times by that old hag's black fingernails. Now, small scabs have formed, and the area is red and swollen, looking rather ferocious.

She was feeling uneasy; if she got disfigured, how could she ever face anyone again?

Seeing her son burst in, Zhao Cuifeng glared at him and slammed the mirror shut.

"You little brat! Where have you been running off to? You just got a beating and you still haven't learned your lesson, have you?"

Xu Damao grinned and went over to her, putting his arm around her and rubbing against her like a puppy.

"Mom, I was wrong, please don't be angry! Didn't I just avenge you? Didn't you hear how pitifully Jia Dongxu screamed? It felt so good to hear!"

Zhao Cuifeng glanced at him, seeing right through his thoughts: "Don't flatter me. Tell me, what do you need from me this time?"

With my son behaving like this, nothing good can come of it.

"Hehe, Mother is brilliant!"

Xu Damao gave a thumbs up, then rubbed his hands together and said with a shameless grin.

"I... want to have lunch at Brother Zhu's house. Please let me have it, just for one meal!"

"Snapped!"

Zhao Cuifeng raised her hand and gave Xu Damao a crisp flick on the forehead, making him clutch his head and cry out.

"You good-for-nothing! Did I starve you or something? Is there no food at home for you? Why do you have to go to other people's houses to freeload? Aren't you ashamed?"

"Ouch, that hurts..."

Xu Damao winced in pain, but he still didn't give up, rubbing his forehead pitifully as he spoke.

"Mom, it's not that I'm greedy, it's just that the food Zhuzi's family cooked today smelled so good! The aroma wafted over the wall, I could even smell the meat!"

"Why are you so greedy? Were you a starving ghost in your past life?" Zhao Cuifeng scolded irritably.

"Hehe...Isn't Brother Zhu's dad a master chef? Brother Zhu's cooking must be delicious too."

Xu Damao swallowed hard, his eyes darting around, and he came up with a different reason.

"Besides, Mom, Brother Zhu and I have been getting along really well these past few days, haven't we? I'm afraid if I don't go, he won't want to play with me anymore... For the long-term benefit of our family, I have to go to this meal! I even gave him that precious slingshot Dad got for me!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Cuifeng was stunned for a moment, then speechless.

She knew about that slingshot.

The old man went to great lengths to get it. In the first few days after his son brought it home, he treasured it like the back of his hand, holding it in his arms even while sleeping, and wouldn't let her touch it at all.

It's only been a few days, and it's already been given to that idiot He family member?

That fool Zhuzi from the He family...

What kind of spell did they cast on their son?

But then I thought, it's good that my son and He Yuzhu have a good relationship.

Although He Yuzhu was a bit slow-witted, he was very strong and was the king of the kids in the neighborhood.

If his son hangs out with him, at least no one in the yard will dare to bully him anymore.

"Alright, alright, stop loitering around." Zhao Cuifeng waved her hand impatiently, which was her way of agreeing. "I can go, but on one condition."

"Mom, please say it! Don't just say one, ten will do!" Xu Damao rubbed his hands excitedly.

"When you go to someone's house for a meal, you can't go empty-handed."

Zhao Cuifeng stood up, walked to the kitchen's five-drawer chest, and opened the bottom drawer.

"These days, no one has it easy. You're beholden to someone who feeds you, and you're beholden to someone who gives you money."

She took out a small plate with about ten slices of ham on it—it was a New Year's bonus that Xu Damao's father had given him, which he hadn't been able to bear eating.

Two more steamed buns made from two different types of dough were placed on the plate.

Her family was considered well-off in the courtyard, and both she and her husband worked for the Lou family.

Although it's tiring, the little bit of money they make is enough for their family to eat and drink. They rarely eat those tough cornbreads.

"Thank you, Mother! You're so kind!"

Xu Damao was so excited he almost jumped up. He grabbed the ham and steamed bun and ran out like a happy little rabbit.

"Slow down! Don't spill anything! And come back after you finish breakfast, don't cause trouble!"

Zhao Cuifeng shouted from behind.

"Yes, Mother! I promise I'll complete the mission!"

The reply was loud, but the speed of his steps did not decrease at all, and he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

He Yuzhu was sitting by the stove, holding a slingshot and aiming it out the window.

He had his eye on the bare jujube tree in the backyard, imagining that it might come in handy if he encountered bad guys one day.

Just then, Xu Damao's loud voice came from the courtyard gate:

"Brother Zhu! My mom agrees! My mom agrees!"

Then came the creaking sound of the door opening.

He Yuzhu turned his head to look.

Xu Damao stood at the door, his face flushed and his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat, panting heavily.

He held the plate of ham and steamed buns tightly in both hands, as if they were some rare treasure, afraid of dropping even a little bit.

"Brother Zhu, look, I brought the food!" Xu Damao held the plate high like a treasure.