Fusion System: Rebirth in a Courtyard - Bird Fighting Chronicles

Chapter 142 The Sound of Broken Bones in the Cold Courtyard, Heartlessness Stronger Than Winter Fros

Seven days after Liu Haizhong's funeral, ashes from burning paper money still lingered on the blue brick floor of the courtyard, their colors stained with varying shades of black by the cold spring rain. The windows of Yan Bugui's house in the front yard were always tightly shut. Only at the crack of dawn each morning could one hear the rustling sounds of him getting out of bed—this retired arithmetic teacher, even without having to rush to school early anymore, couldn't break his decades-old biological clock. However, the once unwavering morning reading had recently become sparse, as if half-scattered by the cold wind.

That morning, Lin Chen was going to the steel rolling mill to hand over the last batch of technical improvement documents. Before leaving, he made a point of going to the front yard to take a look. Yan Bugui was carrying a faded blue cloth bundle on his back, a corner of an old account book peeking out—his prized possession, which he never parted with, even sleeping under his pillow. The old man wore a cotton-padded coat with three patches, the collar worn smooth. His back was hunched, and his steps were more unsteady than usual; he had to lean against the wall and catch his breath after each step.

"Teacher Yan, going out so early?" Lin Chen greeted him. Yan Bugui looked up, a hint of unease flashing in his cloudy eyes. He hurriedly hid his bundle behind his back and chuckled dryly, "Ah, going to the neighborhood office to check this month's retirement pension. I'm afraid they've miscalculated." Lin Chen noticed his ears, which were purple from the cold, and remembered that Su Qing had knitted a pair of earmuffs for the elderly in her family and still had them left. He said, "I have a spare pair of earmuffs at home. I'll have Su Qing bring them to you later. It's still cold outside."

Yan Bugui's face flushed instantly, as if someone had touched a sore spot. He waved his hands repeatedly, "No need, no need! I'm not cold! I'm perfectly healthy!" As he spoke, he hurried forward, tripping over something and nearly falling. Luckily, he managed to grab the trunk of the old locust tree at the courtyard gate. Lin Chen tried to help him up, but Yan Bugui stiffly avoided him, leaving only a hurried figure disappearing into the alleyway.

When Su Qing returned from the finance department at noon, she placed the earmuffs on Yan Bugui's windowsill, leaving a note: "Teacher Yan, these earmuffs are for protection against the wind, please don't mind." But even when Lin Chen returned in the evening, the gray woolen earmuffs were still lying quietly on the windowsill, untouched. Qin Huairu happened to come to deliver the mended work clothes and, seeing this, sighed softly: "Teacher Yan's personality is so calculating; she even calculates the kindness of others, afraid of owing favors."

Lin Chen remained silent, staring at the tightly closed door of Yan Bugui's house. He recalled overhearing civil affairs officials discussing Yan Bugui's retirement pension being reduced last month, supposedly because his past tutoring scandal had resurfaced. Although the statute of limitations had passed, a significant portion of his subsidies had still been deducted. The old man might not say it, but he was undoubtedly anxious and worried. He was probably going to scrutinize that old ledger again, calculating household expenses and the debts his children "owed" him.

The accident happened three days later, in the early morning. Lin Chen got up early that day and was adding coal to the community help box in the yard when he suddenly heard a muffled thud from the front yard, followed by the crisp sound of something breaking, and then there was silence. His heart tightened, and he quickly ran to the front yard. Just as he turned the corner of the screen wall, he saw Yan Bugui lying next to the trash can, his right leg twisted unnaturally, a small wet patch of water on the ground beneath him, and a broken empty soy sauce bottle rolling nearby—it seemed that the old man had slipped and fallen while taking out the trash.

"Teacher Yan!" Lin Chen rushed over and squatted down, carefully touching Yan Bugui's arm. "How are you? Can you speak?" Yan Bugui's face was pale, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, his lips were trembling, and he pointed to his right leg, finally managing to choke out, "It hurts...it's broken..." Lin Chen looked down and saw that a small patch of the old man's trouser leg was already soaked with blood, and his ankle was swollen like a steamed bun, obviously seriously injured.

The commotion startled everyone in the courtyard, who rushed over. Qin Huairu helped Aunt Yan run out of the house. The old woman, upon seeing her husband on the ground, collapsed to the floor, crying, "Old Yan! What happened to you?!" Sha Zhu, who had just returned from the military guesthouse carrying snacks for He Yushui, immediately put them down: "Don't panic! I'll go call a tricycle! Brother Lin, you watch over Uncle Yan!"

Lin Chen brought a wooden board and some old towels from home, carefully using them to immobilize Yan Bugui's legs. He then soaked the towels in hot water and wiped the old man's face. Yan Bugui lay on the ground, his eyes fixed on the courtyard gate, repeatedly muttering, "Jie Cheng... Jie Fang... Jie Kuang... Jie Di..." Grandma Yan cried, "I've already sent Jia Dang to call them; they should be here soon."

They waited and waited, but even after Sha Zhu arrived with his tricycle, none of Yan's four children showed up. Yan Bugui's eyes gradually dimmed, his tightly clenched fists slowly loosened, and his lips pressed into a stiff line. Lin Chen and Sha Zhu carefully lifted the old woman onto the tricycle. Grandma Yan cried and wanted to go with them, but Lin Chen stopped her: "Grandma, please wait at home. Sha Zhu and I will accompany Teacher Yan to the hospital. We'll come back to let you know as soon as we have any news."

In the hospital's emergency room, the doctor took X-rays and said gravely, "A comminuted fracture of the right ankle joint, with a minor bone crack. You'll need hospitalization and surgery, and will be bedridden for at least three months. Prepare five hundred yuan for the surgery and hospitalization fees." Lin Chen was shocked; this was no small sum at the time, equivalent to more than half a year's wages for an average worker. He took out all the money he had, barely scraping together two hundred yuan. Sha Zhu also took out his newly received salary, barely enough for the deposit.

Lying in the hospital bed, Yan Bugui visibly trembled when he heard the words "five hundred yuan." He struggled to sit up, saying, "No surgery! I'll go home and recover! Five hundred yuan is too much!" Lin Chen held him down, "Teacher Yan, the fracture can't be delayed. Don't worry about the money; getting better is the priority." Yan Bugui looked at Lin Chen, a complex expression appearing in his cloudy eyes for the first time—a mixture of gratitude and shame. His lips moved, but he ultimately remained silent.

Lin Chen left Sha Zhu at the hospital while he rushed back to the courtyard to report the news and also to inform Yan's children. He first went to the machine tool factory where Yan Jiecheng worked, found the workshop foreman, explained the situation, and the foreman had Yan Jiecheng called out. Upon hearing that his father had broken his leg and needed surgery, Yan Jiecheng frowned, looking impatient: "I know, I know, I'm rushing to meet a deadline, I can't leave. Besides, I've only been married for two years, where would I get that much money? He only gave me fifty yuan when I got married, and now he wants five hundred? No way!"

Lin Chen patiently said, "Jiecheng, that's your father. He's waiting for surgery to save his life. If we don't have enough money, we can all chip in. You have to go to the hospital to see him, right?" Yan Jiecheng rolled his eyes. "See what? You know how he treated us back then. When my younger siblings were in school, he even kept track of the cost of a pencil, saying we'd have to pay him back later. I send him ten yuan every month now, that's more than enough!" With that, he turned and went back to the workshop, leaving Lin Chen standing there, speechless with anger.

When Lin Chen went to the transport team where Yan Jiefang worked, the situation was even worse. Yan Jiefang was playing cards with some coworkers. Upon hearing that his father was hospitalized, he didn't even look up and said, "I don't care. Back then, he favored my older brother. When I went to the countryside, he only gave me five yuan and didn't even buy me a decent cotton-padded coat. Now that he's in trouble, go find my older brother, don't come to me!" Lin Chen wanted to say something more, but was stopped by a coworker: "Comrade, don't try to persuade him. The grudge between father and son has lasted for decades. Jiefang has cursed his father countless times, but it's no use."

Yan Jiekuang worked on a farm in the suburbs, and Lin Chen had to travel across most of the city to find him. The third brother didn't refuse outright, but said with a bitter face, "Brother Lin, it's not that I don't want to help, but I made a mistake last month and had my wages docked. Now I can barely support myself. Besides, my father gave all his savings to my eldest brother for his wedding; none of us benefited from it. If you ask me, this money should be paid by my eldest brother."

It was already evening when they finally found Yan Jiedi's house. Yan Jiedi's husband ran a small restaurant, and they lived a fairly comfortable life. Upon hearing that her father-in-law had broken his leg, Yan Jiedi was stunned for a moment, then sighed, "Brother Lin, it's not that I'm unfilial, you don't know how unreasonable my father was back then. When I got married, he insisted that my husband give him fifty yuan for child support, otherwise he wouldn't let me marry. In the end, my husband had to borrow the money from relatives. Now that he's in the hospital, I can go visit him, but I don't have a single penny. I paid back the child support money from back then a long time ago."

Lin Chen had been running around all day, his mouth dry and his heart growing colder. He hadn't expected that Yan Bugui, who had spent his life scheming against his children, would end up with no one to care for him when it really mattered. When he returned to the hospital, Sha Zhu was feeding Yan Bugui porridge, but the old man hadn't eaten a single bite. He just stared blankly at the ceiling. Seeing Lin Chen enter, Yan Bugui's eyes flickered, and he asked softly, "They...didn't come?"

Lin Chen couldn't bear to tell the truth, so he made up an excuse: "Jie Cheng and his colleagues are busy at work. They said they'd come over after get off work. Jie Di is making soup for you at home; she'll bring it over later." Yan Bugui's lips twitched, revealing a bitter smile: "Don't lie to me. I know they won't come." He paused, then turned to look at Sha Zhu, "Sha Zhu, back then you stole my family's pickled vegetables, and I chased you and cursed you for three blocks. Don't you hate me?"

Sha Zhu scratched his head and chuckled, "Hey, that was so many years ago. I was hungry back then, wasn't I? Besides, you didn't really hold it against me afterward." Yan Bugui then looked at Lin Chen, "Little Lin, I used to always go against you and even helped Yi Zhonghai plot against you. Why are you helping me now?" Lin Chen sat on the edge of the bed and said softly, "Teacher Yan, I'm helping you not because you were good to me before, but because you're an elder and a member of this community. Besides, everyone gets old eventually, and everyone needs help sometimes."

Yan Bugui's eyes slowly reddened, tears streaming down his face and soaking the pillow. His hands trembled as he reached under the pillow and pulled out a cloth bundle. Inside was the yellowed account book and a crumpled wad of cash, probably a few dozen yuan. "This is all the money I've saved…" the old man choked out, "I've spent my whole life scheming… scheming and scheming… and in the end… I've lost all affection for my children… and in the end… I don't even have anyone to bring me water…"

Lin Chen took the ledger and opened it to the first page. It recorded the delivery fee for Yan Jiecheng's birth—five cents—with a small "owed" drawn next to it. Turning the page further, he found records of the children's school fees, stationery expenses, and even a record of someone stealing half a cornbread. Every entry was meticulously recorded, marked "to be repaid." Looking at the densely written characters, Lin Chen felt a mix of emotions. This ledger wasn't just about money; it was clearly Yan Bugui's lifelong obsession, and a deep chasm between him and his children.

"Teacher Yan, if you trust me, I'll talk to the children for you." Lin Chen closed his book. "Family ties aren't an account book; they can't be measured in monetary terms. They are your children, their blood flows in their veins. As long as we speak frankly, there will always be a turning point." Yan Bugui nodded, tears streaming down his face. "Okay...okay...thank you...Lin..."

The next day, Lin Chen asked the street officials for help and summoned all four of Yan's children to the street office. At first, the children tried to pass the buck and argued fiercely. Lin Chen placed the account book on the table and showed it to them: "Look, your father has kept accounts all his life, recording every expense you've made. He doesn't really want you to pay him back; he's just afraid you'll forget his kindness and that no one will take care of him when he's old. He spent all his savings on Jie Cheng's wedding, so he was biased towards you, but he is still your father, who raised you."

Lin Chen paused, then said, "Teacher Yan is in the hospital now. Sha Zhu and I have managed to scrape together the surgery fees, but the subsequent hospitalization and nursing care will require a lot more money. I know you have reservations, but he's old and knows he made a mistake. Are you really going to just stand by and watch him go uncared for?" The street official also chimed in, "Children, filial piety is the most important virtue. No matter what, supporting the elderly is your obligation. If this goes to court, it won't look good for you either."

After a long silence, Yan Jiecheng finally spoke: "I can give you 100 yuan to go to the hospital and see him again, but I can't stay by his side every day. I have a wife and children to support." Yan Jiefang added, "I'll give you 50 yuan, that's all I have." Yan Jiekuang scratched his head: "I'll give you 30 yuan, and if that's not enough, I'll find another way." Finally, Yan Jiedi said, "I'll give you 150 yuan to go to the hospital and take care of him for a few more days. I'll come back as soon as he can get out of bed."

Although the children were still reluctant, they finally reached an agreement. Lin Chen returned to the hospital with the 330 yuan he had scraped together and told Yan Bugui. The old man's eyes finally lit up. That afternoon, Yan Jiecheng arrived at the hospital first. Standing by the bedside, looking at his father's pale face, his lips moved, and after a long pause, he managed to say, "Dad, take good care of yourself." Yan Bugui looked at his eldest son, tears welling up again. He wanted to say something, but Yan Jiecheng interrupted him, "I have something to do at work, I have to go. I've given the money to Brother Lin." He then hurriedly left the ward.

In the following days, Yan's children visited Yan Bugui one after another. Although they didn't stay long or say anything particularly heartwarming, they at least let the old man know that they hadn't completely abandoned him. Yan Jiedi came to take care of him for three days, wiping his body and feeding him. Although she didn't say much, her actions were quite meticulous. Watching his daughter's busy figure, Yan Bugui said softly, "Jiedi, I was wrong back then. I shouldn't have forced you to pay child support." Yan Jiedi paused, her eyes reddening, and shook her head: "Father, let's not talk about the past."

The surgery was successful, but Yan Bugui's recovery was slow. Lin Chen and Su Qing visited him at the hospital every day, sometimes bringing fruit, sometimes helping to look after him. Qin Huairu also frequently had Jia Dang bring over porridge and side dishes. Since Aunt Yan was elderly and had difficulty walking, the neighbors in the courtyard took turns helping her buy groceries and cook. Lying in his hospital bed, Yan Bugui watched as those he had once schemed against and offended came to help him, and his remorse deepened.

One day, Lin Chen brought Yan Bugui a new notebook and placed it on his bedside table: "Teacher Yan, the past is the past, don't think about it anymore. You can write down happy things in this notebook, like when Jie Cheng's child came to visit you last time, or the sweater Jie Di knitted for you. These are much more interesting than an account book." Yan Bugui picked up the notebook, stroking its smooth cover, and suddenly tears streamed down his face: "Little Lin, I've lived my whole life wrong..."

On the day of his discharge, Lin Chen and Sha Zhu went to pick up Yan Bugui to take him home. As soon as they entered the courtyard, they saw Yan Jiecheng standing at the gate with his son, carrying a thermos: "Dad, I made you some pork rib soup, come home and drink it." Yan Jiefang and Yan Jiekuang were also there, carrying newly bought canes and cushions. Yan Jiedi, supporting Yan Dama, held a newly knitted sweater: "Dad, I knitted this for you, it'll keep you warm in winter."

Yan Bugui looked at his children standing at the door, then at the neighbors gathered in the yard, his cloudy eyes filled with tears. He slowly raised the new notebook in his hand and said to his children, "I've burned the old account books. I won't keep accounts anymore; I want to remember your kindness." Yan Jiecheng was stunned for a moment, then stepped forward and took his father's arm: "Dad, let's go home."