Chapter 279: Going to School

The autumn wind of 1962 drove away the last clingy heat of late summer and brought the scent of a new school year. A few little kids in the Siheyuan had reached the age to shoulder their schoolbags, but the world inside those bags and the road to the school were vastly different.

In the Central Courtyard of the Jia family, Jia Zhangshi unusually refrained from cursing and instead held up a brand‑new, dark‑blue, high‑quality school uniform, gesturing it over Bang Geng. The fabric was crisp and even in the dim room it caught the light.

"Look, my great‑grandson looks so spirited in this outfit!" Jia Zhangshi smiled a Chrysanthemum Stamp on his face, his Sanjiao Yan brimming with pride. "Going to school calls for a proper school look! You can't dress in rags and be looked down upon!"

Bang Geng lifted his little face and turned in circles, pleased with the new clothes, yet still clueless about the words "going to school."

Qin Huairu watched silently from the side, her heart a swirl of emotions. The old woman truly spared no expense for Bang Geng. The new clothes, plus a new schoolbag and stationery, cost at least ten yuan, and she didn't blink an eye.

She knew the money came from the over‑three‑hundred‑yuan compensation from Dongxu. The old woman treated that cash like a lifeline; normally she pinched every cent so tightly she'd wish it could split into eight petals, yet on Bang Geng she was lavish to a jaw‑dropping degree.

In contrast, Xiao Huaihua's outfit was still patched‑up old clothes.

"Mom, isn't this… too eye‑catching?" Qin Huairu couldn't help whispering.

"What do you mean eye‑catching?" Jia Zhangshi snapped. "My grandson must dress well! He'll be taking university exams and becoming an official! Not like some cheap knock‑offs that look the same no matter what!" She cast a sideways glance at Xiao Huaihua on the kang, her tone cutting.

Bang Geng's enrollment, under Jia Zhangshi's full backing and financial paving, was splendid, essentially the hope of the entire Jia family's future.

In the Xi Kua Yuan and the rear‑yard Sa Zhu Family, it was a different scene. Li Yaozong and He Xiao, the two little ones, had also reached kindergarten age.

That morning, Lin Xueqing and Ma Dongmei each tidied up their sons. Li Yaozong wore a half‑new, clean, soft little jacket; He Xiao was similarly dressed— not brand‑new, but neat and presentable.

"When you get to kindergarten, listen to the teacher, play nicely with the other kids, understand?" Lin Xueqing crouched, adjusting her son's collar.

"Got it! Mom!" Li Yaozong's voice rang out, his big eyes like black grapes full of anticipation.

Next to him, He Xiao mimicked him, puffing his little chest: "Listen! Play!"

Sha Zhu watched merrily from the side, saying to Ma Dongmei, "See? My son is so clever!"

The two mothers held their children's hands, walked out of the courtyard gate together, and headed to the street office's daycare. On the way they met acquaintances who greeted them:

"Sending the kids to school?"

"Yes, to kindergarten."

"That's good, someone's watching, you can take it easy."

This simple, warm scene tasted different to some eyes. Jia Zhangshi peered through the door crack, spat, "What's the point of kindergarten? Pure waste of money! Kids just run around the courtyard and grow up. It's just burning cash!" She had completely forgotten how much she'd spent on Bang Geng's attire.

In the Front Courtyard of Yan Bu Gui's family, the atmosphere had become somewhat subtle. Yan Jiecheng's last matchmaking had failed; although Yan Bu Gui verbally dismissed "rural girls as short‑sighted," he knew deep down that with their own standing, finding a good match was hard. He clutched a small notebook and began to manipulate his iron abacus again.

"Jiecheng's job is temporary, low pay, no security. Our family's situation…" He pushed up his glasses, analyzing to San Dama, "Next time we look, there must be a hard condition—the woman must have a city household registration!"

"City household registration?" San Dama was startled. "So a girl who can get a fixed grain ration could consider us?"

"Why not?" Yan Bu Gui puffed his chest. "No matter what we say, we're still a scholarly family! Jiecheng's looks aren't bad either! The key is, a city household registration is fundamental!" He tapped the notebook, his tone solemn. "Without it, any children we have will be rural‑registered, with no fixed grain ration! Won't they starve to death? This isn't stinginess, it's foresight! It's a long‑term plan!"

In his logic, the calculation was taken to the extreme, becoming "far‑sighted strategy." He demanded a city registration not for in‑laws' benefit, but purely to avoid a future bottomless pit that would force the Yan family to pour money into.

Thus, Yan Bu Gui went back to Wang Meipo; this time his conditions were crystal clear and "hard‑core"—the primary condition: city household registration! As for the "ten eggs for fifty cents" matchmaking fee, he never mentioned it, as if he'd never said it.

Wang Meipo listened to his spittle‑flying talk of "strategic foresight," sneering inwardly while still giving a perfunctory response. This old Yan, his abacus grew ever sharper, but unfortunately the beads couldn't crack anyone else's face.

A few days later, Wang Meipo indeed found another—a female worker from the nearby Textile Factory named Yu Li, who did have a city registration, average family background, and an ordinary appearance. Upon hearing "city registration" and "has a job," Yan Bu Gui instantly felt she met his "strategic requirements" and hurriedly arranged a second matchmaking.

This time, the Yan household still performed a big clean‑up (a superficial show), and Yan Jiecheng was still forced to wear that Zhongshan suit. At the lunch table, there were still stir‑fried cabbage and corn‑noodle buns, the only change being that the small dried fish dish had become… a plate of salted shredded radish.

Yu Li watched the spread, then glanced at the Yan family's cramped, crowded, wall‑to‑wall‑empty house, while Yan Bu Gui ranted endlessly about "the importance of a city registration" and Yan Jiecheng's "temporary job" and its "stable future." Her expression shifted from polite at first, to helpless, and finally almost numb.

The result was predictable. After returning, Yu Li asked Wang Meipo to convey a single line: "The Yan family is a scholarly lineage; I can't reach it."

When the news came back, Yan Bu Gui held his little notebook, baffled: "Those conditions are perfect! City registration, a job! What else could she be dissatisfied with?"

He seemed forever unable to understand that his extreme utilitarian and stingy calculations were themselves the highest barrier, blocking every possibility.

Yan Jiecheng, after two failed matchmakings, grew increasingly silent. San Dama watched her son, worried in her heart, yet dared not say much.

In the Siheyuan, the children shouldered their schoolbags, heading toward different life starting points; the adults continued on their respective tracks, their characters and choices steering them toward already predetermined ends.

Bang Geng, in his new clothes, naïvely stepped into the school, bearing Jia Zhangshi's unrealistic extravagance; Li Yaozong and He Xiao babbled in kindergarten, enjoying a relatively normal childhood; while Yan Jiecheng, under his father's unyielding iron abacus, continued his hopeless single life.

In this world of fireworks, joy and sorrow do not intersect, and the future has already been quietly written in these daily moments.