Fusion System: Rebirth in a Courtyard - Bird Fighting Chronicles

Chapter 147 The prison door opens slightly, and the autumn chill of the old courtyard is felt.

The late autumn of 1975 arrived unexpectedly. The old locust trees in Nanluoguxiang, Beijing, shed countless golden leaves, and the wind, swirling the withered leaves across the gray bricks and tiles of the Hongxing Courtyard, always carried an indescribable desolation. Lin Chen had just locked the blueprints for his newly developed precision forging mold into a drawer when he heard Old Wang's hesitant voice from the courtyard gate: "Young Lin, come out and take a look. That person at the gate… he looks very familiar."

Lin Chen put on his work jacket and strode out of the central courtyard. He saw a thin figure standing by the gate of the front yard. The gray cloth Zhongshan suit was faded from washing, the collar was frayed, and the trouser legs were covered in dust from the journey, but the back was ramrod straight. The man heard footsteps and slowly turned his head, revealing a face etched with deep lines, his temples completely white, only his eyes still retaining some of the sharpness of his youth—it was Yi Zhonghai, who had been released from prison.

"Uncle Yi," Lin Chen spoke first, his voice calm and even. He looked at Yi Zhonghai's clenched fist, white with grime, his knuckles still stained with dirt, clearly indicating he had come straight here after leaving the prison. Yi Zhonghai's gaze lingered on Lin Chen for a moment, then quickly swept over the gate of the courtyard house. His Adam's apple bobbed a few times before he asked in a hoarse voice, "My house... my house, is it still there?"

The question had barely left his mouth when Aunt Yan from the front yard came out carrying a laundry basin. The moment she saw Yi Zhonghai, the wooden basin crashed to the ground with a loud thud, splashing soapy water everywhere. "You...you're back?" Aunt Yan's voice trembled. She took two steps back, her eyes filled with fear and a complex mix of pity. The neighbors in the yard, hearing the commotion, all rushed out. Liu Guangtian, carrying his toolbox, had just returned from the workshop. Seeing Yi Zhonghai, he also paused, the wrench in his hand falling to the ground with a clatter.

Ignoring the stares of the crowd, Yi Zhonghai walked straight towards the central courtyard. His steps were somewhat unsteady. As he passed the public pool, he subconsciously glanced at the spot where Qin Huairu used to wash clothes. Now, a brand-new sewing machine stood there, belonging to Qin Huairu's sewing shop. Reaching the north side of the central courtyard, he stopped in front of a building with a wooden sign that read "Temporary Street Storage Point." He reached out to push the familiar wooden door, only to find that the lock had been replaced with a new brass lock.

"Uncle Yi, this house was confiscated by the neighborhood committee in the third year after you went to prison," Lin Chen explained from behind him. "At that time, Aunt Yi was bedridden and no one was taking care of the house. It also happened to be part of the neighborhood committee's cleanup of vacant properties, so it was all taken away." Yi Zhonghai's hand froze in mid-air, his knuckles slowly loosening. He peered through the crack in the door and could vaguely see the eight-immortal table that he had made by hand back then. Now it was piled with a bunch of old burlap sacks, and the wood grain on the table legs was still faintly visible.

"And her?" Yi Zhonghai's voice was even hoarseer, his head slightly turned towards the side room next door, where Aunt Yi had lived. The courtyard fell silent instantly. Qin Huairu had just returned from the sewing shop. Hearing this, the fabric in her hand fell to the ground. She bent down to pick it up, her voice choked with sobs: "Aunt Yi... passed away in the winter of your second year in prison. She passed away peacefully, and we, her neighbors, helped with the funeral arrangements."

Yi Zhonghai swayed, as if all his strength had been drained away. He slowly squatted down against the wall, his hands covering his head, his shoulders trembling violently. Everyone in the courtyard was silent; no one spoke, only the wind rustling through the old locust tree in the corner, its leaves seeming to tell of the vicissitudes of the past few years. Lin Chen sighed, turned and went back into the house to get a small stool, placing it beside Yi Zhonghai: "Sit down for a while, have some water to calm down."

Yi Zhonghai didn't sit down, but just squatted on the ground until the setting sun stretched his shadow long. He suddenly remembered the night before he went to prison, when Aunt Yi packed his luggage, folding clothes and crying, "Old man, reform yourself well inside, I'll wait for you to come back." He had comforted her then, saying, "Don't worry, I'll be back soon, and then we'll fix up the house properly." But now, the house was gone, and so was she, leaving only a yard full of unfamiliar faces.

"Where's Sha Zhu?" Yi Zhonghai suddenly looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Didn't he promise to take care of me in my old age? Where is he now?" Upon hearing this, everyone in the courtyard exchanged glances, their expressions complex. Sha Zhu was now a cook at the military district guesthouse, living a prosperous life. He had long since moved out of the courtyard house, and every time he returned, he specifically instructed that Yi Zhonghai not be mentioned in front of him.

"Brother Shazhu... moved to the military compound and is doing quite well." Liu Guangtian hesitated before speaking. "He's now the head chef at the guesthouse, and he married the director's sister. Their child is already three years old." Yi Zhonghai's eyes lit up, and he quickly stood up. "Where is he? I'll go find him. He'll definitely help me." He was about to walk out when Lin Chen stopped him.

"Uncle Yi, don't be anxious." Lin Chen's voice was calm. "Brother Shazhu is indeed doing well, but... he might not want to see you." Yi Zhonghai stiffened, turned to look at Lin Chen, his eyes full of confusion: "Why? I took such good care of him back then, and he promised to take care of me in my old age. How can he not see me?" Lin Chen was silent for a moment, then slowly said: "Back then, when you took care of him, did you truly care for him, or did you treat him as a tool for your old age? You know the answer in your heart."

These words struck Yi Zhonghai like a hammer blow. He staggered back two steps, leaning against the wall, his face pale. He remembered how he had deliberately altered the workshop attendance records to help Sha Zhu escape responsibility in order to bind him to the company; he remembered how he had sided with Qin Huairu at the company-wide meeting, forcing Sha Zhu to help the Jia family; he remembered what Sha Zhu had said to him when he finally realized his mistake and turned against him: "Uncle Yi, I used to treat you like my own father, but you never treated me like your son. You only ever saw me as a tool to support you in your old age!"

"I...I didn't mean to," Yi Zhonghai murmured to himself, his voice tinged with a hint of defense. "I was just afraid that no one would take care of me when I got old. I don't have a son, I can only rely on him." Lin Chen looked at him, her heart filled with mixed emotions. In his entire life, Yi Zhonghai had made retirement his sole goal. He had schemed for this goal his whole life, but in the end, he still ended up all alone.

"Uncle Yi, come with me, I'll find you a place to stay." Lin Chen sighed and turned to walk out of the courtyard. Yi Zhonghai was stunned for a moment, then quickly followed. The two walked to a small courtyard at the entrance of the alley. Lin Chen opened a small south-facing room: "This is a house I used to rent. No one lives here now, but you can stay here for now. I've prepared all your daily necessities."

The small house was clean, containing a single bed, a table, a chair, and a coal stove in the corner, with a pile of coal briquettes beside it. Newly bought bowls, chopsticks, and a thermos were on the table, and the bed was covered with brand-new bedding, clearly prepared by Lin Chen. Yi Zhonghai entered the house, looking at the simple yet cozy little place, and his eyes suddenly reddened: "Lin boy, after how I treated you back then, why are you still helping me?"

Lin Chen sat down and poured himself a glass of hot water. "I'm helping you not because you were good to me back then, but because you're an old resident of the courtyard, someone who watched me grow up. Besides, who hasn't made mistakes in their life? The important thing is knowing where you went wrong." He paused and continued, "Your biggest mistake back then was treating everyone as a bargaining chip for your retirement. You schemed and plotted, and in the end, you drove everyone around you away."

Yi Zhonghai sat on the bed, his hands clasped behind his head, silent for a long time. He recalled withholding apprentice welfare subsidies from the Jia family, concealing Jia Dongxu's work injury compensation, deliberately altering Qin Huairu's assessment sample to win her over, and the indifferent looks from his neighbors when he was arrested. Yes, he had schemed his whole life, only to gain nothing and lose everything in the end.

"I want to go see her," Yi Zhonghai suddenly said, his voice a little hoarse. "I want to see Aunt Yi's grave." Lin Chen nodded: "I'll go with you tomorrow. She's buried in a public cemetery in the suburbs, not far from here." That night, Lin Chen sat with Yi Zhonghai in the small house for a long time, listening to him talk about the days in the courtyard house, the sweetness of his marriage with Aunt Yi, his glory days as an eighth-grade fitter in the steel rolling mill, and all the scheming and plotting he had done.

The next morning, Lin Chen took Yi Zhonghai to the cemetery. Aunt Yi's grave was very clean, the tombstone inscribed "Tomb of the Li Family of the Yi Clan," and a bouquet of fresh chrysanthemums sat before it, indicating that someone regularly cleaned it. "This was sent by Brother Shazhu," Lin Chen explained. "Although he doesn't want to see you, he sends flowers every year on Qingming Festival and the anniversary of Aunt Yi's death."

Yi Zhonghai squatted in front of the grave, reaching out to touch the words on the tombstone. Tears finally streamed down his face. "Old woman, I'm back. I was wrong. I shouldn't have schemed and plotted. I shouldn't have valued my retirement more than anything else. I shouldn't have let you leave all alone..." He rambled on, talking about the sweetness of his youth and his longing after being imprisoned, about his scheming and his current regret. Tears mixed with snot streamed down his face.

Lin Chen stood silently beside him. He knew that what Yi Zhonghai needed now was not comfort, but to confide in someone, to release the regret that had accumulated in his heart for many years. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell on the tombstone, casting a warm glow, as if Aunt Yi was silently responding to him.

After returning from the cemetery, Yi Zhonghai seemed like a different person. He stopped sighing all day and instead took the initiative to help Lin Chen tidy up the small yard, clearing away the weeds and planting a few pots of vegetables. Lin Chen gave him some money to buy some daily necessities, but he couldn't bear to spend it. He only bought two steamed buns and a bowl of pickled vegetables every day, saving the money to buy a nicer tombstone for Aunt Yi.

One day, Yi Zhonghai went to the vegetable market near the courtyard house and happened to run into Qin Huairu. Qin Huairu had just finished get off work at the sewing shop and was carrying stationery she had bought for her son, Jia Geng. Seeing Yi Zhonghai, she paused for a moment, then smiled and greeted him, "Uncle Yi, you're back." Yi Zhonghai's face instantly turned red, and he quickly lowered his head, saying, "Qin girl, I'm so sorry for what I did to you before. I shouldn't have forced you to scheme against Sha Zhu, and I shouldn't have withheld your resettlement allowance."

Qin Huai smiled and handed a bag of apples to Yi Zhonghai: "It's all in the past, Uncle Yi. I can support myself and my child now with my sewing shop, which is great." She paused and continued, "Lin Chen told me that you live not far now, so please come back to the courtyard house often when you have time. We're all old neighbors, how can we really hold a grudge for a lifetime?"

Yi Zhonghai took the apple, his hands trembling. He looked at Qin Huairu, the woman he had once used as a bargaining chip to bind Sha Zhu, who now lived a stable and composed life, no longer the pitiful figure she had been by the pool. He suddenly understood that Lin Chen was right: things gained through scheming are ultimately fleeting, and only a life earned with one's own hands is truly secure.

That afternoon, Yi Zhonghai returned to the courtyard house with Qin Huairu. The neighbors, though still a little reserved, greeted him warmly. Liu Guangtian, who was inflating his bicycle tires in the yard, saw him and smiled, saying, "Uncle Yi, you're back! Do you want me to fix the door to that little house for you?" He Yushui, Shazhu's sister, happened to be back to get something. Seeing Yi Zhonghai, she paused for a moment, then nodded, "Uncle Yi."

Yi Zhonghai felt a warmth in his heart. He walked to the public pool in the courtyard, looking at the brand-new sewing machine, the children playing in the yard, and the busy figures of his neighbors. Suddenly, he felt that this courtyard was still so familiar and so warm. He remembered what Lin Chen had said: "In this life, what you should be calculating the most is not money, but feelings. When feelings are deep, life will naturally be warm."

From then on, Yi Zhonghai frequently returned to the courtyard to help out. He helped Qin Huairu repair her sewing machine, helped Liu Guangtian sharpen his tools, helped Aunt Yan carry water, and helped the neighbors repair various items in their homes. His level eight fitter skills were still intact; he repaired things quickly and well, and the neighbors all liked him very much. Sometimes in the evenings, everyone would gather in the courtyard to chat, and Yi Zhonghai would tell the children stories about his time in the steel rolling mill when he was young, talking about technology and the spirit of craftsmanship.

Once, Sha Zhu returned to the courtyard to visit He Yushui and happened to see Yi Zhonghai helping Qin Huairu repair her sewing machine. Their eyes met, and both froze for a moment. Yi Zhonghai's face instantly turned red, and he quickly lowered his head to continue working. Sha Zhu stood there, watching Yi Zhonghai for a long time, before suddenly speaking, "Uncle Yi, your craftsmanship is still as good as ever." Yi Zhonghai's hands stiffened, and he looked up at Sha Zhu, his eyes filled with guilt: "Sha Zhu, I was wrong to you back then."

Sha Zhu smiled, walked over, picked up a wrench, and handed it to Yi Zhonghai: "It's all in the past, Uncle Yi. I'm doing quite well now. If you have any difficulties, just tell me." Yi Zhonghai took the wrench, and tears streamed down his face again. He knew that although Sha Zhu hadn't said he forgave him, those words, "It's all in the past," were enough.

That evening, Sha Zhu prepared a large meal in the courtyard and invited neighbors such as Yi Zhonghai, Lin Chen, and Qin Huairu to come over. At the table, Sha Zhu poured a glass of wine for Yi Zhonghai: "Uncle Yi, I'd like to toast you and wish you good health." Yi Zhonghai took the glass, his hands trembling. Looking at the table full of food and the lively crowd, at Sha Zhu's sincere eyes, and at the warm smiles of his neighbors, he suddenly felt that he had finally made the right choice in his life—the unbreakable bond of neighborly affection in this courtyard.

After the meal, Sha Zhu gave Yi Zhonghai some money, asking him to get a better tombstone for Aunt Yi and also to help him renovate his small courtyard. Yi Zhonghai refused, saying, "Sha Zhu, thank you, but I can earn money myself. I repair things for my neighbors now, and they give me a small fee, which is enough for me to live on. I want to get a better tombstone for your aunt with my own hands; that way, I'll feel at ease."

Sha Zhu nodded, not insisting further. He knew that what Yi Zhonghai needed now wasn't charity, but dignity—dignity earned with his own hands. From then on, Sha Zhu frequently returned to the courtyard house. Sometimes he would play chess with Yi Zhonghai, sometimes he would listen to his stories of the past, and sometimes he would invite him to a meal at the military district guesthouse. The distance between them slowly disappeared in the warmth of everyday life.

When winter came, Yi Zhonghai used his savings to buy a new tombstone for his wife, Li, inscribed with "Tomb of My Beloved Wife, Li, Erected by Husband Yi Zhonghai." He also planted a pine tree next to the tombstone, saying that it would keep the tomb green in winter and prevent it from looking lonely. Neighbors Lin Chen, Sha Zhu, Qin Huairu, and others went to help, adding soil and watering the tombstone. Seeing the lush pine tree standing tall in the cold wind warmed their hearts.

On the way back from the cemetery, Yi Zhonghai walked at the front, the sunlight shining on him, casting a warm halo. He turned around and looked at Lin Chen, Sha Zhu, Qin Huairu and the others following behind him, and suddenly smiled.