Fusion System: Rebirth in a Courtyard - Bird Fighting Chronicles

Chapter 138: Family Ties Scattered Where Account Books Are Torn, A Lonely Shadow in Old Age Faces a

The autumn heat of 1973 was exceptionally fierce. The midday sun scorched the bluestone path of the Hongxing Courtyard, and even the foxtail grass at the base of the wall drooped listlessly. The wooden door of Yan Bugui's house in the front yard was ajar, and intermittent arguing could be heard from inside, like a taut string that was about to snap at any moment.

Lin Chen had just returned from the workshop, carrying a new supply of face cream from the supply and marketing cooperative for Su Qing. As he passed by the Yan family's house, he happened to see Yan Jiecheng angrily slamming the door as he stormed out. He was carrying an old wooden box, the lid of which wasn't closed properly, revealing yellowed pages inside—Yan Bugui's account book, which he had kept for most of his life.

"Dad! I can't possibly keep track of this!" Yan Jiecheng's roar shook the dust off the courtyard wall. "From childhood to adulthood, I've kept track of every meal I ate from you, every piece of clothing I wore from you. Even the pencil stubs you bought me back then are on the 'pending repayment' list. Now that I'm getting a permanent position, I'm borrowing five yuan from you as a deposit and you're charging me a monthly interest rate of one percent. Do you treat me like a son or a creditor?"

Yan Bugui's high-pitched voice came from inside the door, carrying the pedantry characteristic of intellectuals: "You can't say that! Raising children to provide for old age is an economic calculation. I've spent a total of 168.73 yuan on your food, clothing, and education. Now that you've been working for three years, you've only repaid 35.2 yuan. Even at bank interest rates, that's not enough to cover the interest!"

Lin Chen stopped in his tracks and saw Yan Bugui chasing after him, wearing a faded blue cotton jacket. His withered finger pointed at Yan Jiecheng's back, his lips trembling with anger: "If you dare take the account book today, don't call me your father anymore!"

Yan Jiecheng whirled around, slamming the wooden box to the ground. Account books scattered everywhere, and a gust of wind carried several pages filled with densely packed numbers to Lin Chen's feet. "Recognize me as your father? Do you even deserve it?" Yan Jiecheng's eyes were red. "Back then, when my mother secretly slipped me a roasted sweet potato, you wrote in the account book, 'Yan Jiecheng stole half a sweet potato, valued at two cents.' When my sister Jiedi got married, you demanded fifty yuan for her upbringing, almost driving her to jump into the river. A father like you? I'd rather not acknowledge you!"

These words were like a sharp knife stabbing into Yan Bugui's heart. He swayed, pointing at Yan Jiecheng, unable to speak. Aunt Yan ran out of the house, picked up the scattered account books, and, wiping away tears, pleaded, "Jiecheng, don't be angry with your father. He's doing this for the family..."

"For this family? He's doing it for his own retirement!" Yan Jiecheng kicked away the wooden box beside him. "Now that I've been promoted, I'll live in the company dormitory and send you five yuan a month as alimony. Consider it paying off your old debt!" With that, he turned and left without even looking back.

Yan Bugui watched his son's retreating figure, then suddenly sat down on the ground, clutching the ledger that read "half a sweet potato, discounted by two cents," and burst into tears. His cries were not as deep and resonant as those of an ordinary old man; they carried the grievance and bewilderment of a failed scheme, attracting the attention of neighbors in the middle and back courtyards.

"Instructor Yan, what's going on again?" Sha Zhu had just returned from the military district guesthouse, carrying snacks for Qin Huairu's children. Seeing this scene, he quickly squatted down to help Yan Bugui up. He was much calmer now and no longer as impulsive as before. However, looking at the account books scattered on the ground, his eyes held a complex expression.

After being helped up, Yan Bugui was still sobbing. He handed the account book to everyone and said, "Look at this! I raised him with so much hardship, and I kept these accounts because I was afraid he would be destitute in his old age. And now he's all grown up and says he doesn't recognize me as his father!"

Lin Chen picked up an account book at his feet. It was written in neat handwriting: "March 14, 1965, Yan Jiefang stole half a bottle of ink, worth three cents; May 2, 1966, Yan Jiekuang lost an eraser, worth five cents..." Every entry was clearly recorded, even the date was accurate to the day.

"Teacher Yan, I'm not trying to be mean," Qin Huairu said softly, holding Huaihua, whose fever had just subsided. "How can you calculate raising children like that? Back when I had three children, no matter how hard life was, I never calculated the cost of a single meal for them. Now, the children are the closest to me." She meant it sincerely. Ever since she put aside her calculations and made a living in the sewing shop, she has come to understand more and more that family ties cannot be calculated with an account book.

Yan Bugui glared at Qin Huairu and said defiantly, "What do you know? I'm a teacher, and everything must be fair and just. Raising children to provide for you in old age is an investment, and investments should have a rate of return!" He was immediately retorted by Aunt Liu from the backyard, "According to you, Guangtian Guangfu was beaten and scolded by his father when he was young, but he still takes care of us in our old age, doesn't he? If family ties could be calculated with a rate of return, your calculations would have been ruined long ago!"

Liu Guangtian had just returned home from get off work when he heard his mother's words. He smiled and chimed in, "Uncle Yan, my dad used to favor my older brother, giving him all his savings. Later, my brother ran away, and my dad regretted it so much he cried. But Guangfu and I didn't stop supporting him because of that. Now my dad helps me take care of the kids every day, and we're doing quite well." He paused, looked at Yan Bugui, and said, "You reap what you sow. If you treat the children with sincerity, they will naturally treat you well. No matter how meticulously you keep accounts, you can't warm their hearts."

Yan Bugui was speechless. His lips moved, but in the end he could only sigh and bend down to pick up the scattered account books. Aunt Yan followed behind him, picking them up while secretly wiping away tears. She had long advised her husband not to be so calculating, but he always said, "Raising children to provide for old age requires careful calculation of costs." Now that things had come to this, she felt terrible.

Seeing that nothing serious had happened, everyone gradually dispersed. Before leaving, Lin Chen specifically said to Yan Bugui, "Teacher Yan, if there's any misunderstanding over there, I can help you talk to them." He didn't want to meddle, but seeing Yan Bugui's lonely and miserable appearance, and remembering his own tragic death from cold and hunger in his previous life, he felt a little sorry for him.

Yan Bugui paused for a moment, then shook his head: "No need, he's in a bad mood right now, it's pointless to say anything." Despite his words, a hint of expectation flashed in his eyes. Lin Chen noticed this, said nothing more, simply nodded, and turned to go back to his room.

That evening, Lin Chen went to Yan Jiecheng's dormitory. The dormitory wasn't large, containing only a bed and a table. Several mechanical blueprints were pasted on the wall, showing that Yan Jiecheng was a hardworking and reliable person. Upon seeing Lin Chen, Yan Jiecheng was somewhat surprised and quickly poured him a cup of hot water, handing it to him: "Brother Lin, what brings you here?"

"I came to see you and also wanted to talk to you about your father." Lin Chen took the water glass and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I saw what happened during the day. Although your father is a bit scheming, he was afraid of being alone in his old age. He's getting old, so it's inevitable that he has more worries."

Yan Jiecheng sighed, leaned against the table, and his tone softened considerably: "Brother Lin, it's not that I don't acknowledge him, I'm just furious about that old ledger of his. When we were little, my siblings and I would even share a piece of candy. If we ate even one extra bite, he would write it down. Once, I had a high fever, and my mother wanted to boil me an egg, but he wouldn't let me, saying, 'Eggs are nutritious, if you keep track of it, you'll have to pay it back double later.' Do you think that sounds like something a father would say?"

Lin Chen fell silent; he understood Yan Jiecheng's grievances. In his past life, he had been schemed against by Jia Zhangshi and framed by Qin Huairu; he knew better than anyone the feeling of being hurt by those closest to him. "Your father did make a mistake," Lin Chen said slowly, "but he's getting old now, and your mother is all he has left. If you really don't take care of him, what will he do in his old age?"

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t care about him,” Yan Jiecheng frowned. “Didn’t I say I’d send him five yuan a month for support? But I just don’t want to settle those old scores with him anymore. I want to be his son, not his creditor and debtor.”

"That's right," Lin Chen smiled. "Actually, your dad doesn't really want to settle accounts with you. He just feels insecure. If you have time, go home and visit him more often, and talk to him about your thoughts. If he knows you're not going to abandon him, he definitely won't force you to pay those 'debts' anymore."

Yan Jiecheng thought for a moment and nodded: "Okay, I'll go back and see them this weekend." He paused, looked at Lin Chen and said, "Brother Lin, thank you so much. If it weren't for you lending me five yuan as a deposit back then, I wouldn't have been able to get a permanent position."

"We're all neighbors, it's only right to help each other out." Lin Chen stood up. "It's getting late, I won't bother you any longer. Go back and have a good talk with your dad this weekend." With that, he turned and left the dormitory.

On the weekend, Yan Jiecheng indeed returned to the courtyard house. He didn't mention the account book, but simply bought Yan Bugui a new blue cloth jacket and a pound of brown sugar for Aunt Yan. Yan Bugui's expression improved considerably upon seeing his son return. Although he didn't offer any apologies, he made a point of putting a piece of braised pork on Yan Jiecheng's plate during the meal, something that had never happened before.

Lin Chen watched this scene and nodded inwardly. He knew that Yan Bugui's temperament couldn't be changed overnight, but as long as the father and son were willing to take the first step, their relationship would gradually improve. But he didn't expect that not long after, the Yan family would run into trouble again, this time involving Yan Jiedi.

Yan Jiedi was getting married to her colleague, whose family was of modest means and could only offer a dowry of twenty yuan. When Yan Bugui found out, he vehemently disagreed, insisting that the groom pay fifty yuan as "raising expenses," otherwise he would not allow Yan Jiedi to get married.

"I've raised her to this age, putting in so much effort and money, fifty yuan is too little!" Yan Bugui sat on a stone bench in the courtyard, holding an account book. "I calculated that from the time she was born until now, her food, clothing, daily necessities, and tuition fees have totaled one hundred and twenty-seven yuan and fifty cents. Giving them fifty yuan is already a 40% discount!"

Yan Jiedi knelt on the ground, crying, "Father, his family really can't afford that much money. Please stop pressuring us, okay? We truly love each other!"

"Can sincerity feed you? Can it be your retirement fund?" Yan Bugui remained unmoved. "If he can't come up with fifty yuan today, you're not leaving the house!"

Qin Huairu couldn't stand it and stepped forward to advise, "Teacher Yan, Jie Di is a good girl. Marrying someone who truly treats her well is better than anything else. Fifty yuan is not a small amount for an ordinary family. If you really care about Jie Di, don't push her too hard."

"Mind your own business!" Yan Bugui waved his hand impatiently. "This is our family matter; it's none of your business as an outsider!"

Just then, Lin Chen and Su Qing returned together. Su Qing had just finished get off work in the finance department, holding an account book in her hand. Hearing the arguing at the Yan family's house, she frowned. She walked up to Yan Bugui and said softly, "Teacher Yan, I'm Su Qing from the steel rolling mill's finance department. I'll help you with some accounting."

Seeing that Su Qing was dressed neatly in work clothes, wearing glasses, and looking like an intellectual, Yan Bugui softened his tone: "What kind of score do you want to settle?"

"Let's calculate the costs of raising Jie Di, and the costs of your future retirement." Su Qing took out a pen and paper from her bag. "Jie Di is twenty-two years old this year. According to you, the cost of raising her is 127.5 yuan. You are fifty-eight years old now. Assuming an average lifespan of seventy years, you have twelve years left for retirement. If Jie Di marries someone who truly treats her well, the couple will give you twenty yuan alimony each year, which would be 240 yuan over twelve years, far exceeding your cost of raising her. But if you force them not to marry, and Jie Di resents you, who will take care of you when you are old?"

Su Qing's words were clear and precise, leaving Yan Bugui stunned. He was most skilled at accounting in his life, but he had never considered this "retirement expense." Seeing his silence, Su Qing continued, "Besides, Jie Di is your daughter. Her happiness brings you pride. If you ruin her happiness for fifty yuan, how can you feel at ease even if you receive a lot more money later?"

Yan Bugui looked at his daughter kneeling on the ground crying, then at the number Su Qing had written on the paper, and the scales in his heart gradually tipped. He remained silent for a long time, then finally sighed and put the account book on the table: "Fine, fine, it'll be twenty yuan as you say."

Upon hearing this, Yan Jiedi immediately stopped crying and smiled, scrambling to her feet and hugging Yan Bugui's arm: "Dad, you're so good to me!"

Yan Bugui patted his daughter's hand, his eyes filled with guilt: "Live a good life from now on. If you suffer any grievances, come home." He paused, then took out ten yuan from his pocket and handed it to his daughter. "This is your dowry from your father. Buy something you like."

This was the first time Yan Bugui had given money to the child voluntarily, without keeping track of it or calculating interest. Yan Jiedi took the money, and tears welled up in her eyes again, this time tears of emotion. Lin Chen and Su Qing, standing to the side, exchanged a glance and both smiled with relief.

Yan Jiedi's wedding was simple, with just a few tables set up in the courtyard. Lin Chen and Su Qing gave her a pair of pillowcases embroidered with "May you have a long and happy marriage," which Su Qing embroidered herself; Qin Huairu gave her a wedding dress that she had sewn herself, with fine stitches and exquisite workmanship; Sha Zhu brought several of his signature dishes from the guesthouse and even acted as a temporary chef.

On the wedding day, Yan Bugui drank quite a bit, and his eyes were red as he looked at his daughter in her wedding dress. He held his son-in-law's hand, not mentioning the account book again, but repeatedly admonishing him: "Treat Jie Di well. If I find out you've mistreated her, I won't forgive you."

The son-in-law nodded quickly: "Father, don't worry, I will definitely treat Jie Di well."

After the banquet, Yan Bugui sat on a stone bench in the courtyard, looking at the firecracker debris scattered all over the ground, and suddenly said to Aunt Yan, "Old man, burn my account book."

Aunt Yan was stunned for a moment, then quickly realized what was happening and nodded hurriedly, "Okay, I'll go burn it now." She went into the house, took out the account book that she had kept for most of her life, and lit it in the yard. In the firelight, the densely packed numbers gradually turned to ashes. Yan Bugui looked at the dancing flames and a relieved smile appeared on his face.

Lin Chen happened to be passing by and saw this scene, and he was happy for Yan Bugui. He knew that Yan Bugui had finally understood that family ties cannot be maintained by account books; those cold numbers can never compare to the warmth between family members.

Since then, Yan Bugui has changed a lot. He no longer argues with his children about money, and every day after school, he tutors the neighbor's children in arithmetic without charging a penny. When Yan Jiecheng comes home on weekends, he buys his son's favorite braised pork hock in advance; when Yan Jiedi goes back to her parents' home, he buys his grandson some candy. Although he still occasionally can't help but calculate the cost of daily necessities, he no longer holds his children accountable.

One late autumn day, Lin Chen returned home from get off work and saw Yan Bugui leading several children in doing their homework in the yard. The setting sun filtered through the branches of the old locust tree, casting a warm golden glow on them. Yan Jiecheng, carrying a net bag filled with fruit, walked into the yard with a smile: "Dad, I'm home."

Yan Bugui looked up, saw his son, and smiled: "It's good to be back. Come inside, your mother made chicken soup."