Chapter 265: Silent Thunder

The autumn of 1961 came like a guilty thief, crept in, and, cloaked in desolation, was ready to slip away.

The crops in the fields, after being nourished by that lifesaving rain, finally managed to stand upright, but the harvest remained a question hanging over everyone's mind. Life in the Siheyuan was still counted grain by grain into the pot, scrupulously eking out a living.

In the Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an cradled his increasingly frail son Li Yaozong; the little fellow could already murmur a vague "Dad… Dad," his arms waving like lotus stems, adding a rare warmth to the chilly autumn.

Xueqing sat under the lamp, in the dim yellow light, carefully altering Li Ping'an's old garment to piece together a small winter coat for his son. With cloth coupons tight, every inch of fabric had to be used to the razor's edge.

"Ping'an, I heard this year's autumn harvest, the officials overestimated again?" Xueqing whispered without looking up as she threaded the needle. Having worked at Yi Yuan, she was more in the know than the average housewife.

Li Ping'an teased his son, his gaze calm as water: "Hmm, overreporting the yield has been going on for a while. The rain was a stopgap, but the soil is too thin, and after the harsh toil before, the field's vitality is wounded. It would be good if we can just scrape through this year; next year… I'm afraid it'll be the same."

He said no more, but Xueqing understood the unspoken part. Food was always a sword hanging over their heads. She let out a soft sigh, and her needle moved a few beats faster.

Unlike the hard‑won calm of the Xi Kua Yuan, the Central Courtyard Jia family was like a tightened string. Qin Huairu's belly was already showing, making her movements increasingly difficult.

With Jia Dongxu's meager wages gone, the household survived on the factory's ten‑yuan subsidy and Yi Zhonghai's occasional "help," barely making ends meet. Bang Geng was at an age when he could eat, yet he kept whining of hunger, and Xiao Dang was as skinny as a cat.

Jia Zhangshi's complexion grew darker each day, her slanted eyes flashing with resentment and scheming. She dared not openly provoke Li Ping'an again, nor readily request a household donation, fearing the likes of Xu Damao would publicly expose her past. Yet hunger and fear gnawed at her heart like a Poison Snake.

That evening, Yi Zhonghai returned from work, unusually carrying a small strip of Pork Belly tied with a grass rope, about the width of a finger, roughly three to four taels. He had waited in line for half a day and called in favors to get it from the side‑shop's backroom.

Before he could step inside, Jia Zhangshi darted out like a cat that smelled blood, eyes fixed on the meat, a guttural "Gulu" sound escaping her throat.

"He's the First Elder, and you…?" Jia Zhangshi forced a smile uglier than crying onto her face.

Yi Zhonghai's heart tightened; instinctively he tried to hide the meat behind his back, but it was too late. He forced a steady face: "Oh, I bought some meat, just to improve things."

"Improve, improve?" Jia Zhangshi's voice rose sharply, tinged with sobbing. "You think you can improve! Our whole family is starving! Bang Geng cries all night from hunger, and Qin Huairu, carrying the old Jia lineage, can't even see a drop of fat! Yi Zhonghai, do you still have a conscience?! Jia Dongxu is your disciple! Are you just watching his family starve to death?!"

Her voice was sharp and cutting, instantly drawing many eyes in the courtyard. Yan Bu Gui, just back from work, adjusted his glasses, his small eyes glittering with the thrill of spectacle. A few families in the Front Courtyard, preparing dinner, pricked up their ears.

【7】 Yi Zhonghai's face flushed red then white, his hand holding the meat frozen mid‑air, caught between two choices. Give it—his heart ached; he and his wife had craved that meat for a long time. Not give—Jia Zhangshi would cause a scene, and where would his Moral Model façade go? Especially after the previous donation fiasco, he needed to keep up the image of caring for his disciple's widow.

【8】 Qin Huairu stepped out at the right moment, leaning on the doorframe, her face pallid, eyes slightly reddened, and whispered low, "First Elder…" The sight was pitiful to anyone who saw it.

【9】 Yi Zhonghai muttered a curse under his breath, but ultimately reason (or rather, that pitiful vanity and the reputation propped up by others) triumphed over his appetite. He forced a strained smile and handed over the meat: "Sister‑in‑law, as you said… take this meat back, give Qin Huairu and the children something to replenish themselves."

【10】 Jia Zhangshi snatched the meat, her expression instantly clearing, yet she kept pressing: "That's more like it! Looks like you still have a hint of a master's demeanor!" With that, she turned and went back inside, slamming the door shut.

【11】 Yi Zhonghai stared at his empty hand, feeling hollow inside, as if those few morsels of meat had taken his spirit away. He trudged home, his face dusty and disheveled; an elderly woman watched his empty‑handed return, sighed, and asked nothing.

【12】 In the back courtyard, Xu Damao perched on his own windowsill, taking in the scene at the Central Courtyard, snorted, and said to Wang Cuihua, who was kneading dough, "Did you see? Yi Zhonghai, that Old Fox, got squeezed again by Jia Zhangshi. This bit of meat—what's it good for? Not even enough to jam between teeth! He's dying for face and suffering for it!"

【13】 Wang Cuihua didn't look up, kneading the black dough mixed with bran vigorously: "Mind your own business! If you have time to watch the spectacle, you'd better think about where to get some greens tomorrow."

【14】 Xu Damao was choked into silence, sulkily turned his head away, his resentment toward Wang Cuihua deepening. He was now completely held at bay by this woman, unable to anger, let alone speak.

【15】 In the Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an vaguely heard the commotion from the Central Courtyard and shook his head. Yi Zhonghai's plight was self‑inflicted; he had chosen Jia Dongxu for elder care, and now the bottomless pit had entangled him, impossible to shake off.

【16】 He felt no sympathy, only sorrow. In these times when everyone is on edge, that hollow "morality" and "reputation" sometimes torments more than hunger.

Night deepened, and the Siheyuan fell back into silence. Yet many households were destined to stay awake.

From the Jia house drifted a long‑missed, faint scent of meat. Bang Geng and Xiao Dang stared hungrily at the plate, drooling. Jia Zhangshi muttered, "Good grandchild, eat more, …"

Qin Huairu watched the children's yearning eyes, feeling as if pricked by needles. She touched her swollen belly, filled with uncertainty and fear for the future. How much more profit could Yi Zhonghai's fatty meat yield? Once the child is born, how will they get by?

Yi Zhonghai lay on his bed, tossing and turning. He never got to eat that meat, and his heart felt clogged. He began to doubt whether his original choice was wrong—caring for the elderly never materialized, only bringing trouble. Now he was on a tiger he couldn't dismount.

Li Ping'an listened to the faint night cries of some child beyond the window, gently patting his son in his arms. The little fellow was already sound asleep, breathing evenly. His gaze was sharp, as if it could pierce the heavy night and see the hidden currents and dangers beneath.

The food crisis was far from resolved, factional strife simmered in the factory, and the courtyard's beasts each harbored ulterior motives… This seemingly tranquil Siheyuan was like a deep pool, with unseen whirlpools beneath that could spell death.

He knew that silent thunder often erupts when people are most unprepared. And now, perhaps, it was only the suffocating calm before the storm. He must stay ever more vigilant, guarding the small peace around him.

Xu Damao was choked speechless, he sullenly drew back his head, his hatred for Wang Cuihua grew a little more. He was now completely under this woman's control, not daring to be angry, let alone speak.

In Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an also faintly heard the movement in the Central Courtyard; he shook his head. Yi Zhonghai brought this on himself; originally, to support his old age, he chose Jia Dongxu, but now the person is entangled by this bottomless pit, unable to shake it off.

He felt no sympathy, only pity. In these times when everyone looks out for themselves, that bit of false "morality" and "reputation" sometimes tortures people more than hunger.

Night deepened, the Siheyuan returned to silence. But many households are destined not to sleep.

In the Jia household, a long-lost, extremely faint meat aroma wafted out. Bang Geng and Xiao Dang stared at the meat in the plate, salivating. Jia Zhangshi murmured: "Good child, eat a bit more, …"

Qin Huairu looked at the children's eager eyes, her heart felt as if pricked by a needle. She touched her swollen belly, filled with confusion and fear about the future. How much more oil can be squeezed from this fatty piece of Yi Zhonghai? Once the child is born, how will life go on?

Yi Zhonghai lay in bed, tossing and turning. That bit of meat he ultimately didn't get to eat, his heart felt blocked. He began to doubt whether his original choice was wrong? He failed to support his elders, instead stirring up trouble. But now he's riding a tiger, can't get off.

Li Ping'an listened to the faint night cries of some child coming from outside the window, gently patting the child in his arms. The little one had already fallen asleep, breathing evenly. His gaze was sharp, as if he could see through the heavy night to the hidden undercurrents and dangers below.

The food crisis is far from resolved; factional struggles in the factory surge beneath the surface; the beasts in the courtyard each harbor ulterior motives… This seemingly tranquil Siheyuan is like a deep pool; beneath the surface, who knows how many deadly whirlpools lie hidden.

He knows that silent thunder often strikes when people are least expecting it. Perhaps now is merely the lull before the storm, that suffocating calm. He must be more vigilant, safeguarding this small peace around him.