Chapter 252: Envy in the Siheyuan

The news of Li Ping'an's return from a business trip, like a stone thrown into a dead pond, stirred layer upon layer of ripples in the Siheyuan. And that faint, almost imperceptible, meat aroma drifting from his family's Xi Kua Yuan, a scent that could captivate the soul, turned those ripples into a hidden whirlpool.

In the Front Courtyard, Yan Bu Gui, whose nose was comparable to a hunting hound, was restless that night. He paced inside his own house, muttering nonstop, "Did you smell it? Did you smell it? It must be meat! That kid Li Ping'an must have gotten something good! And he doesn't even share any profit with the courtyard neighbors, he's so clueless about being a decent person!"

His wife retorted irritably, "They earned it with their own ability, why should they give any to you? Back then..." before Yan Bu Gui glared her back, cutting her off. Yet he knew in his heart that trying to reap free benefits from Li Ping'an was as hard as scaling heaven. The meat scent was like a tiny hook, itching his mind unbearably, yet leaving him helpless; he could only swallow his saliva in secret and curse a few "stingy" words to vent his resentment.

In the Central Courtyard, the Jia family reacted even more intensely. Bang Geng clung to the doorframe, his small head thrust outward, greedily inhaling, tugging at Qin Huairu's sleeve: "Mom, meat! It smells like meat! I want to eat meat!"

Jia Zhangshi sat cross-legged on the kang, his Sanjiao Yan filled with jealousy and spite, slapping the kang mat and shouting, "What a heartless creature! The moment there's any meat you shut the door and eat it yourself! Aren't you afraid you'll choke! No hint of neighborly spirit! He deserves it..."

The curses from behind were poisonous yet lowly, dissipating into the murky air of the house.

Qin Huairu silently pulled Bang Geng back, her heart a mix of five flavors. She knew Li Ping'an's goods weren't something to cling to, and the mother-in-law's curses were useless beyond venting, but seeing her son's yearning eyes, she herself felt a lack of oil and water in her belly; that bitterness and helplessness coiled around her like cold vines.

Jia Dongxu hunched his head and squatted on the threshold, listening to his mother's scolding and the rumbling from his own stomach, irritably tugging his hair, and feeling an inexplicable resentment toward Li Ping'an.

As for Sha Zhu, being a cook, he was more sensitive to flavors; smelling the meat aroma, he smacked his lips and said to Ma Dongmei, "Hey, Brother Ping'an knows what he's doing, there's some skill. This meat stew... the heat was a bit off."

His comments were more professional critiques, without much thought of taking advantage; after all, he was a cook and could occasionally scrape a bit of oil from the cafeteria.

Ma Dongmei laughed, "He's the Head of the Security Department; a trip far away always brings some opportunity. We just need to live our own lives well."

First Elder Yi Zhonghai's family.

Yi Zhonghai sat beside the Eight Immortals Table, his brows slightly furrowed. He, of course, also smelled the meat aroma and felt a bit uneasy.

In his view, Li Ping'an's behavior somewhat undermined the courtyard's atmosphere of "sharing joys and hardships" (even though the hardship was only his moral demand on others). He thought Li Ping'an should be more "considerate of the overall situation", at least... should symbolically give a portion to the most struggling Jia family in the courtyard, reflecting the spirit of unity and mutual aid.

But he also knew that times had changed; Li Ping'an's position was solid and his methods harsh, and his prestige as a "First Elder" was no longer enough to make Li Ping'an act according to his wishes. He could only sigh in secret, feeling that the world was declining and people's hearts were no longer ancient.

In the Back Courtyard, Xu Damao didn't have many thoughts; he had some connections himself. Though envious, he was more calculating whether the next time he went to the countryside to screen a film he could also scoop up some wild game.

Liu Haizhong's family, the atmosphere was subtle.

Second Elder Liu Haizhong held a tray, also drooling over the meat scent, "Hmph, that kid Li Ping'an, now a Deputy Head, eats meat at home and even invites me, the courtyard's Second Elder! What a disgrace!"

But as he spoke, his Adam's apple rolled involuntarily. He felt that tonight's scrambled eggs no longer smelled fragrant.

Liu Guangtian and Liu Guangfu, seeing Liu Haizhong's absent-mindedness, secretly snatched some eggs to eat, but Liu Haizhong noticed and scolded angrily: "All you do is eat all day; if you could get into a technical school like Guangqi, I'd be happy to buy meat every day."

Liu Guangtian and Liu Guangfu felt deeper resentment toward their elder brother; why does everything good to eat and wear in the family cling to him, while we can only eat porridge.

Just as the courtyard residents' thoughts fluttered over that hint of meat scent, time passed, and in the blink of an eye it was New Year's Day 1961.

In previous years at this time, the Steel Rolling Mill would issue some benefits, even as little as two taels of pork per person, or three to five jin of double-layered noodles, allowing workers to have a slightly flavorful New Year's Day.

But this year, the warehouses were cleaner than a face, and in the cafeteria's big pot, the thin broth reflected a human silhouette. The plant leaders were anxious as fire, yet even a clever housewife cannot cook without rice. Next to the New Year's Day holiday notice posted on the bulletin board, there was nothing, that emptiness colder than the howling north wind.

The factory area was suffused with a repressive sense of disappointment. Workers trudged home with heavy steps, no trace of holiday joy on their faces. In these times, staying alive was already hard; celebrating? It was more like a luxury.

In the Security Department office, the atmosphere was also somewhat dull. Although the meat Li Ping'an brought back last time had slightly improved the brothers in the department, it was a drop in the bucket; with the year-end approaching, if the bowl saw no more oily scent, the year would be too stifling. Li Ping'an decided to take the Security Section into the mountains for a hunt.

In the Director's office, Li Ping'an looked at the few core pillars before him—Wang Dahu and two other capable, tight-lipped officials.

"The year-end is hard, the plant can't produce anything, but our Security Section brothers cannot just endure," Li Ping'an said straight to the point, his voice low and strong, "I've been thinking, taking advantage of the New Year's holiday, let's organize a mountain hunt."

"Hunt?" Wang Dahu's eyes lit up, and the other two also showed excited expressions.

"Right. Over at Xishan, the forest is dense, and I've heard there are wild animals. We'll take guns, form a lean squad, go fast and return fast."

Li Ping'an spread a crude map, "The main targets are hares and pheasants; if we encounter wild boar, that's even better. All actions are confidential; the game we catch will be distributed uniformly by the department, so the brothers can have some meat in their bowls for the New Year."

The proposal immediately received everyone's approval. In these times, leaders who proactively seek benefits for their subordinates are far too few!

"Director, just give the orders! We'll all follow you!" Wang Dahu rubbed his fists.

"Fine." Li Ping'an's gaze swept over the few, "Personnel must be absolutely reliable, mouths tight. Prepare vehicles, firearms, ropes, dry rations. Tomorrow at four a. m., meet at the factory back gate; move silently!"

An operation for a single bite of meat at year-end unfolded quietly, unknown to anyone. The scheming and envy within the courtyard walls contrasted sharply with the proactive strike outside the walls for survival and a full stomach.

Li Ping'an knew waiting was useless; only by taking initiative could one carve out a sliver of hope and warmth for oneself and those nearby in these harsh times. The wild forest of Xishan was about to welcome visitors.