Chapter 237: Daily Life

Li Yaozong's arrival was like a tiny stone tossed into the deep waters of the Siheyuan, the ripples it raised lingering for a long time.

The wooden door of Xi Kua Yuan, usually kept shut, seemed, because of this little life, to exude a bit of unusual vitality and… a faint, almost intangible, enticing aroma.

Li Ping'an grew busier and more cautious. He still went to the Steel Rolling Mill on time each day, handling the increasingly heavy security duties and the various worker morale issues sparked by material shortages.

But as soon as work ended, he hurried home like an arrow, rushing back to the small courtyard lit with warm lamps.

Lin Xueqing recovered quickly under her husband's and sister's careful care. Li Ping'an, under the pretexts of "comrade assistance" and "black‑market high price," extremely restrainedly took out a small amount of tonics from the space.

The simmered chicken broth and rice porridge always contained a splash of Spirit Spring Water.

The water seemed truly miraculous; Lin Xueqing's complexion grew increasingly rosy, her milk abundant, Xiao Yaozong was fed to be plump and white, his cries loud and strong, a stark contrast to the other courtyard children who looked wilted from malnutrition.

This subtle difference stood out sharply to the generally gaunt neighbors.

Jia Zhangshi seemed to prick up their ears, listening for any movement in Xi Kua Yuan.

Whenever that simmering aroma (even though Li Ping'an tried to control the heat and timing) faintly drifted out, she would sniff sharply, then sourly scold Qin Huairu: "Did you smell that? You're cooking a private pot again! Tsk tsk, what a case of same people, different fates! She's in her confinement like a lady of the old society! Not like you, having a child is as easy as laying an egg, can't even get a mouthful of thick porridge!"

She had completely forgotten how she had once deducted her daughter‑in‑law's food ration.

Qin Huairu silently fed Bang Geng the translucent vegetable puree that could even reveal a silhouette, feeling as if pricked by needles inside.

Seeing her own son's frail body and thinking of Li Yaozong's vigorous cries in Xi Kua Yuan, a mix of despair, jealousy and humble longing wildly grew in her heart.

She would sometimes hold Bang Geng and linger near Xi Kua Yuan, hoping to "chance upon" Li Pingle bringing water, or at least exchange a few words, just to feel the different atmosphere there.

Yan Bu Gui's scheming was even more direct. He "happened" to appear in the Front Courtyard several times when Li Ping'an finished work, rubbing his hands, his face full of ingratiating smiles: "Ping'an, off work? Heh, uh… I heard Yaozong's mother has abundant milk, the child is well‑nourished? What a blessing! Look… if your family has any leftovers or things that don't suit your taste… like the skimmed oil from the chicken soup, or the crust from the porridge… don't waste it, give some to us? Your big nephew has been craving lately…"

He said it so naturally, as if discussing something self‑evident.

Li Ping'an always politely but distantly rebuffed: "Third Elder, you're joking. That little bit is all the mother's lifeline for the child, we really can't spare it. In these times, no family has it easy." His tone was calm, yet carried an unchallengeable resolve.

Liu Haizhong still kept his wobbling "leadership" stance; during a spontaneous gathering of the whole courtyard by the water tank, he stood with hands behind his back, officiously "admonishing" Li Ping'an: "Comrade Ping'an, having better home conditions is good. But you must watch the impact, promote the style, and rally the courtyard's struggling families to get through the hardship together!" He never mentioned himself, who had the Er Da Ma fry an egg for him every day.

Yi Zhonghai watched from afar, never approaching, his gaze complicated. He knew Li Ping'an's family surely had connections, but he could not guarantee his own safety and did not want to get too close to the Li family now, lest other red‑eyed neighbors involve him or demand he "promote the style." He merely muttered privately to Er Da Ma: "The Li family… they do stay steady."

The most vexed was Xu Damao. He was suffocated by the rural widow and a 500‑yuan external debt, and watching Li Ping'an's family add a child and seem to get by made his heart even more clogged.

He dared not openly provoke Li Ping'an, so he hid in his house, venting at his sighing wife: "Look at them! Look at you! What a Sangmen Star!"

Amid these overt and covert gazes and gossip, Li Ping'an remained highly vigilant. He fully understood the principle "an innocent man is blameless, but one who holds a jewel bears guilt."

He became even more careful in controlling the frequency and amount of supplies taken from the space, each time crafting a meticulous excuse. He even deliberately let Li Pingle, at certain moments, carry a clear bowl of porridge around the courtyard, creating the illusion that "the Li family is also struggling."

Yet, when faced with truly bottom‑line suffering, he was not wholly cold‑hearted.

One deep night, Li Ping'an got up to change his son's diaper and faintly heard a heavily suppressed, animal‑like whimper coming from the Central Courtyard.

He quietly moved to the window, and by the faint moonlight saw Qin Huairu curled alone in the corner outside the Jia house, her shoulders heaving violently, her hand still clutching something tightly. On the ground before her lay half of a dried, blackened, clearly gnawed wild vegetable bun.

Li Ping'an watched in silence. He knew it might be what Qin Huairu had saved from between her teeth to give Bang Geng, or perhaps something the Jia Zhangshi had discovered, snatched, taken a few bites, then discarded in disgust. In this courtyard, Qin Huairu's suffering was silent and desperate.

He did nothing, quietly returning to the bedside. He was not a savior, unable to deliver salvation to all.

All he could do was guard his own little world. Yet deep inside, a corner of his heart was still stirred by that midnight whimper.

He thought, if… if the situation eased later, perhaps he could, without exposing himself, use a more covert method to give that pitiful woman a tiny, almost insignificant help, even just a few pieces of candy that could keep the child alive.

The thought flashed by, quickly suppressed. The most pressing matter now remained caution, concealment.

In Xi Kua Yuan, Xiao Yaozong uttered unconscious babbles in his sleep, Lin Xueqing turned over and slept soundly. Li Ping'an tucked the blanket corners for his wife and child, his gaze once again sweeping over the heavy night outside the window.

The scent of porridge may slip by unnoticed, but this winter of humanity's coldness, he did not know when it would end. He was like the most patient hunter in a peril‑filled jungle, guarding his own treasure, waiting for the moment true dawn finally arrived.

And the myriad gazes outside the courtyard, the twisted hearts of those famished, made him keenly aware that this silent guard battle was far from a time to let down his guard.