Chapter 295: Sha Zhu's Endurance

The banquet incident at the Steel Factory was like a heavy boulder pressing on Sha Zhu's heart, making them unable to breathe for the whole afternoon.

Being scolded outright by the leaders, having wages docked, being made to write a report—this was the first time in He Yuzhu's cooking career! More importantly, the humiliation was huge, and it happened in front of the brother unit! And the mastermind behind it all, they could tell with a toe that it was Xu Damao!

At dusk after work, the sky was gray and hazy, just like Sha Zhu's mood at that moment. They dragged their heavy steps and followed the crowd toward the Siheyuan.

The usual after‑work ease of weighing what to cook for their spouse was gone, leaving only a gutful of resentment and a smoldering anger with nowhere to vent.

Just as they stepped into the Front Courtyard of the Siheyuan, the road narrowed with an enemy, and they happened to run into Xu Damao pushing a bicycle and whistling back. Xu Damao was clearly in a good mood, and his smug grin, to Sha Zhu, was even stinkier and more eye‑gnawing than a stone in a latrine.

"Yo! Isn't this our factory's 'Spicy Master' comrade He Yuzhu?" As soon as Xu Damao saw Sha Zhu, he immediately gripped the brake and stopped the bike, one foot planted on the ground, his sarcastic tone instantly rising eight octaves, as if fearing the neighbors couldn't hear, "What's up? You showed your face in front of the leaders today, are you back to receive the courtyard residents' congratulations?"

Sha Zhu, already seething, surged like a spring, eyes instantly reddening. They lunged forward a step, nearly colliding with Xu Damao's bicycle handle, pointed at his nose, voice trembling with extreme anger: "Xu Damao! You damn it, stop farting here! Tell me! Was it you who added something to the sauce of the fish I was grilling, you bastard?!"

That shout, like a thunderclap on flat ground, immediately drew neighbors from the Front Courtyard, Central Courtyard, and even the back courtyard out.

Yan Bu Gui adjusted his glasses and stuck his head out the window; San Dama, who was folding laundry, stopped her movements; even Li Ping'an from the Xi Kua Yuan, hearing the commotion, lifted the curtain and quietly stood at the doorway watching.

Facing Sha Zhu's almost fire‑spitting glare, Xu Damao felt a moment of emptiness, but as more onlookers gathered, especially noticing Yi Zhonghai emerging from the Central Courtyard, he immediately steadied himself, putting on a face more aggrieved than Dou E's, and his voice rose even louder than Sha Zhu's:

"Sha Zhu! You slander! Which eye of yours saw me add something to your sauce? Huh? You claim it's me, where's the evidence? Without evidence, you're defamation! You're smearing a revolutionary comrade!"

He grew more forceful, even straightening his back, patting his bicycle seat as if adding weight to his words: "I tell you, Sha Zhu, I spent the whole day in the Propaganda Department drafting documents; several colleagues in our section can testify! I don't even know which way the cafeteria door opens! Your cooking is sloppy, making the leaders' guests choke on the spiciness, and you want to pin the dirty bowl on me? There's no way!"

"My cooking is sloppy? Fuck your mother's stinky dog fart!" Sha Zhu trembled with rage, fists clenching with a crackle, "Does anyone in the courtyard not know that you, Xu Damao, had a tooth knocked out by me a few days ago, and you're holding a grudge, seeking revenge!"

"Hey! You think you have any right after hitting someone?" Xu Damao, like a cat whose tail was stepped on, hopped and shouted, "Did I let you hit? That's you, He Yuzhu, being lawless! Moreover, one thing equals another, today this matter, you have no evidence, it's just nonsense! It's because you're jealous of my good work performance, you deliberately pick a fight!"

His words twisted truth, casting himself as the victim and the object of jealousy, almost making Sha Zhu die of anger on the spot.

The surrounding neighbors whispered to each other, debating. Some thought Xu Damao was right—without evidence you can't speak recklessly; others, knowing Xu Damao's character, felt this matter was likely tied to him, yet all watched with a desire for spectacle.

Sha Zhu stared at Xu Damao's shameless face, feeling a surge of hot blood rush to the head, all reason burning and collapsing.

He seemed to already hear his fist striking Xu Damao's filthy face, hearing the crisp crack of bone shattering! Strike! Must strike! Not striking would not settle the hatred in his heart!

He thrust up a fist the size of a vinegar bowl, the blue veins on his arm bulging. Xu Damao, frightened, instinctively recoiled, nearly falling off the bicycle, a flash of terror crossing his face.

At that hair‑trigger moment, Sha Zhu's gaze swept over the lit window of the Central Courtyard belonging to his own home. In the window paper, the blurred silhouette of Ma Dongmei cradling a child swayed gently. Immediately, Li Ping'an's words from that day rang in his ears like a warning bell: "... you're not the only one who eats full and the whole family won't be hungry; you have a wife and son, think of them...," "Impulsiveness is the devil, a thirty‑yuan lesson isn't cheap..."

Thirty yuan... inspection... wage dock... two mouths at home wailing for milk... and Ma Dongmei's worried eyes...

That raised fist, gathering all his strength, seemed bound by an invisible shackle, trembling violently in the air, yet it would not fall.

Sha Zhu's face tightened from red to purple to blue, jaw chattering, veins on his forehead and neck knotted, looking as if he were enduring immense pain and struggle.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the familiar scene to play out—Xu Damao being beaten, crying out, then three elders stepping in, holding a big meeting, imposing fines...

However, seconds passed, and the anticipated fist never came down.

Under the incredulous gazes of the crowd, Sha Zhu's trembling fist slowly, painstakingly lowered, inch by inch.

He gasped a few harsh breaths, as if having just run ten thousand meters, chest heaving, staring dead at Xu Damao, and squeezed out a hoarse sentence like a broken gong: "Xu Damao... you... you wait for me... this matter... isn't over!"

After speaking, he no longer watched Xu Damao's expression, which shifted from terror to astonishment to disbelief, and he abruptly turned, pushed through the onlookers, lowered his head, and trudged back to his own house in the Central Courtyard, slamming the door with a Bang—.

After saying that, he no longer looked at Xu Damao's expression, which shifted from shock to bewilderment and then to disbelief; he suddenly turned around, pushed through the onlooking crowd, head lowered, with heavy steps almost fleeing, rushed back to his own home in the Central Courtyard, and shut the door with a bang.

Everyone froze, as if collectively petrified. Is this still the Sha Zhu who would strike with a fist the moment he saw a chance, never using words? Xu Damao had pointed at his nose and thrown evidence on his face, yet he... held back? Did not act?

Yan Bu Gui subconsciously adjusted his glasses again, muttering, "The sun's coming out in the west?"

San Dama also wore an incredulous face: "Zhuzi lost thirty yuan last time, is this really a lesson learned?"

Xu Damao remained frozen, his face alternating blue and white. All the follow‑up drama he had prepared—complaints, tears, reporting to the elders—had no stage left.

Sha Zhu's unconventional move gave him a feeling of punching cotton, more uncomfortable than being hit. He opened his mouth to sneer a few more lines, but noticed the neighbors' gazes now carried something else, no longer mere spectacle but a scrutiny of his performance. He spat resentfully, pushed his bicycle, and trudged home, forgetting even to whistle.

Li Ping'an, who had been standing quietly at the Xi Kua Yuan entrance, watched Sha Zhu's tightly shut door, a faint, barely perceptible smile curling his lips, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

This reckless man finally began to use his brain instead of relying solely on his fists. To restrain for his family—that is a man's true growth.

He turned back into the house, gently closed the door, sealing the lingering astonishment and gossip inside.

From the Central Courtyard of the Sha Zhu Family, Ma Dongmei's low‑voice inquiries and a child's babble drifted out, occasionally mixed with Sha Zhu's deep, wounded‑beast‑like growl.

That night, many people in the Siheyuan re‑examined the man named He Yuzhu. And that unfallen fist left a deeper impression than any fierce brawl. Growth often comes with the pangs of hidden endurance, and life's script quietly advances through unexpected twists.

That night, many people in the Siheyuan were re-evaluating the man named He Yuzhu. And the fist that never fell left a deeper impression than any fierce brawl. Growth often comes with the pain of endurance, and the drama of life always advances quietly in unexpected turns.