Chapter 62: Within the Courtyard House

“It’s me. Where are you off to, First Uncle?” It seemed the change of clothes and a bit of tidying up had done wonders for Xiao Weiguo—so much so that even First Uncle, who had met him once before, failed to recognize him.

“I’m in a rush to get to class. Remember, make sure you get to know the neighbors in the courtyard,” First Uncle replied.

“Will do, First Uncle. Once I’ve settled in properly,” Xiao Weiguo answered.

First Uncle nodded and hurriedly made his way out.

Xiao Weiguo continued on, noticing several women washing clothes by the pond in the front courtyard. They cast curious glances in his direction; he nodded politely and walked on.

Reaching the middle courtyard, he spotted Aunt Tian Guixiang, who lived in the west wing, smacking a little boy and scolding, “Let’s see if you dare do that again!”

The little boy, upon seeing a stranger approach, choked back his tears.

“Auntie, you seem busy. I’ll let you get on with it,” Xiao Weiguo greeted her and kept walking.

“Oh, it’s Weiguo, isn’t it? Why don’t you ever stay put? Everyone thought you’d moved away again,” Aunt Tian said, letting go of her grandson. The boy seized the moment to dart off, as if afraid a moment’s delay would earn him another spanking.

“I’m a procurement officer, so I’m always running around. I don’t get to spend much time at home. If you ever need anything, just let me know when I’m back,” Xiao Weiguo explained.

Aunt Tian’s eyes shone with envy. “Procurement officer—now that’s a good job. If my grandson could have such a job one day, I’d be over the moon. Unlike my son, who’s stuck hammering iron every day—worn out to the bone. You don’t worry, Weiguo. I’m always in the courtyard, and if you ever want the latest news, I’ll tell you everything you need to know…”

Xiao Weiguo hurriedly interrupted her, “Auntie, I just need to drop some things off at home and then I have to head out to the countryside for work. I’ll visit you soon, and we can chat then.”

He had to interrupt. Experience had taught him that if he didn’t, he’d never get away the whole afternoon.

Aunt Tian looked regretful, but nodded. “All right then, Weiguo. Get on with your errands.”

Xiao Weiguo made a quick escape.

Meanwhile, the women who had been washing clothes in the front courtyard abandoned their basins and hurried to the middle courtyard, eager to hear from Aunt Tian about the new neighbor who had just passed by.

Aunt Tian seized the opportunity to hold court, gossiping at length and concluding, “Any family with a marriageable daughter—act fast, or you’ll miss your chance.”

Xiao Weiguo reached the back courtyard and noticed that the house, previously unoccupied, now had someone inside, the sound of clattering drifting out.

He ignored it for now, parked his bicycle by the window, unlocked the door, and surveyed his small room with satisfaction—a smile tugging at his lips.

How wonderful. It made him happy every time he saw it.

He’d seen Elder Yang’s courtyard and Quan Linglan’s little villa before, but none of those belonged to him. This modest room of just over twenty square meters was his own little nest.

Then it struck him—he’d forgotten something. The room couldn’t be used for cooking yet. There was a coal stove, but no coal briquettes. He wasn’t sure where to buy them or how.

He’d have to ask around. No rush, though; he wouldn’t be staying here right away, and he wouldn’t need to cook yet. He had procurement work at the commune and would probably only be able to stay on Sundays and Mondays.

A knock sounded at the door. Xiao Weiguo wondered who could be looking for him at this hour.

Opening the door, he found a woman of about thirty standing outside. She had a gentle oval face, faint lines at the corners of her eyes, fair skin, and a petite, well-proportioned figure.

“I heard some noise and came over to check. I’m your new neighbor, just moved in next door. When did you move in? These are some local specialties I brought—hope you like them,” the woman said in a lilting dialect.

Xiao Weiguo only understood half of what she said and replied earnestly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

The woman, a little disappointed, muttered, “Not much to talk about, I guess.”

Then she spoke again, “Hello, I’m your neighbor. This is a specialty from my hometown. No need to be formal.”

Now Xiao Weiguo understood. He quickly introduced himself, “Hello, my name is Xiao Weiguo…”

“Just call me Aunt Shen. I’m at least a dozen years older than you, I’d guess. Coming to the capital at this age—what’s the point?” she said with a wry smile.

“Nice to meet you, Aunt Shen. I’m sixteen, just started working,” Xiao Weiguo added, sensing she was trying to gauge his age.

“I figured—you’re just a kid. Well, come on, then,” Aunt Shen said, waving her hand as she turned to walk back to her own room.

“Come on—what does she mean by that? Does she want me to follow her?” Xiao Weiguo wondered aloud, turning the hotpot seasoning Aunt Shen had given him over in his hands. He put it away for now—maybe he’d treat himself to a hotpot soon.

Judging from her accent, Aunt Shen was probably from Sichuan or Chongqing, likely transferred here for work. Such transfers were common in those days; a single order, and you could be sent off somewhere new, even if you’d just settled in yesterday.

She seemed to be about the same age as his father—but he was curious about her family situation.

After tidying up the room, Xiao Weiguo saw that there wasn’t much else to do. He decided to go out. There was no rush to go fishing today—five hundred pounds could be caught quickly tomorrow.

He thought he’d pay a visit to Yang Moguang—Elder Yang, who lived alone in his courtyard.

Partly to build rapport, since anything related to spiritual energy was important, and partly because Elder Yang was quite well-off—perhaps he could help Xiao Weiguo offload some supplies.

The black market was too risky. Last time, if not for his special storage, he’d have been caught red-handed.

Selling directly to these wealthy families was much safer, virtually risk-free. Oh, and there was Aunt Zhao Shuxian’s place as well—he could ask if they needed any supplies.

No sooner thought than done. Xiao Weiguo locked his door, wheeled out his bicycle, and left.

On a whim, he stole one last glance at his little room before leaving, feeling a surge of happiness. Just seeing his own place lifted his spirits.

As he passed through the middle courtyard, he saw a cluster of aunties chatting together. Plastering a smile on his face, he nodded and greeted them, all the while striding quickly toward the gate, silently praying they wouldn’t call out to him.

But fate had other ideas. One of the women called to him, “Hey, young man, I’m Aunt Ma—the matchmaker everyone knows around here. Tell me, are you looking for a wife?”

“No, Aunt Ma, I’m still young. Not thinking about marriage yet. If I ever need help, I’ll come to you!” Xiao Weiguo replied, hastily pushing his bicycle out the gate.

“What’s the rush?” Aunt Ma called after him, disappointed, before returning to her group.