Siheyuan: I just came across and wanted to chase me away

Chapter 1080 Yi Zhonghai's Depression

Gu Nan nodded, remaining silent. He picked up his pen again and reviewed the documents, the pen tip leaving clear handwriting on the paper. In his mind, however, he was pondering—although Xu Damao hadn't meddled with Deputy Director Li this time and hadn't caused any trouble, he hadn't offered any real help either, so he couldn't be considered meritorious. However, his film-showing skills were undeniable. Last time the factory held a safety production publicity campaign, he edited together accident cases from previous years into a documentary, adding shocking images and narration, which made the workers' hearts ache. That effect was more effective than holding ten meetings. The factory's publicity activities couldn't do without someone as skilled as him. Once things stabilized in the factory, it wouldn't hurt to return the position of publicity department director to him; after all, he was a capable person, better than letting those who only knew how to talk occupy the position.

On the other side, Yi Zhonghai dragged his heavy steps to the entrance of the courtyard house, each step feeling like walking on cotton, unsteady and anxious. The setting sun stretched his shadow long and crooked, lying on the ground like a listless clothesline carelessly discarded. The moment his hand touched the cold brass door knocker, the biting chill shot up, making him recoil as if pricked by needles.

He huddled in the shadows of the corner, watching the wisps of smoke rising from the courtyard—he knew without looking that the Jia family was cooking; he could faintly smell the aroma of cornbread mixed with a hint of pickled vegetables. His heart felt like a tangled mess of waterlogged hemp, aching all over. It was utterly shameful. That morning at the factory, he'd overheard two young workers gossiping behind his back. Their voices weren't loud, but every word pierced his ears clearly: "I never imagined Master Yi's eighth-grade fitter title was just a fluke. He couldn't even hold onto his fifth grade in this assessment, dropping straight back to fourth. It's a laughingstock!" "That's right! To suppress Deputy Factory Director Gu, he'd thrown all shame at it, anonymously reporting him, and now he's exposed himself. He deserves it!" Those words were like poisoned needles, piercing his heart, making it hard to breathe. He had lived most of his life, used to being treated like a big shot in the courtyard. Everyone would respectfully call him "Uncle Yi." When had he ever suffered such humiliation? But what they said was the truth, and he didn't even have the confidence to refute them.

The crickets chirped merrily by the wall, their incessant chirping seeming to mock his pathetic state endlessly. Yi Zhonghai sighed deeply, pulled a crumpled cigarette case from his pocket, shook it for a while before finally managing to pull out the last cigarette. He put it in his mouth but didn't light it, letting the astringent taste of the tobacco spread on his tongue. He didn't know how to enter this gate, nor how to face the pitying, mocking, or gloating gazes in the courtyard. The setting sun slowly sank, pressing his shadow shorter and shorter until it drooped listlessly on the ground like a punctured balloon, devoid of any life.

But it's too late now. Deputy Factory Director Li has been arrested, and he himself has been reduced to a fourth-level fitter—he's completely lost face. There's a whole mess waiting for him in the factory—Bang Geng is about to be sent to the countryside, and Qin Huairu will likely come crying to him again, begging for help.

Yi Zhonghai wasn't truly concerned about Bang Geng's condition. That kid was spoiled rotten by Jia Zhangshi, lazy and good-for-nothing; whether he went to the countryside or not was none of his business. What truly mattered to him was Qin Huairu—he was still hoping she would give him a child. All these years, he had openly and secretly helped the Jia family, hoping that one day Qin Huairu would bear him an heir. Now that he had lost face at the factory, his prestige in the courtyard would likely suffer as well. If even this hope was dashed, his life would truly become a joke.

Yi Zhonghai held the unlit cigarette in his hand, the paper crumpled from repeated rubbing by his fingertips, the edges frayed. His knuckles turned white from the force, and even the veins on the back of his hand bulged faintly, like stiff earthworms crawling across them. His eyes held an indescribable gloom, as thick and unyielding as the deepening night, concealing a bellyful of unyielding resentment and anger—he had toiled most of his life in the factory, and the little respect he had earned through his skills was now shattered; Jia Dongxu was still struggling to pass the fourth-level fitter exam; now even Deputy Factory Director Li had fallen, and he feared he wouldn't even have anyone to talk to in the factory anymore—nothing was going right for him.

In the end, he still walked towards the "old haunt" tavern near the factory gate. Right now, his heart felt like a tangled mess, and it seemed that only drinking could relieve his frustration.

The tavern reeked of cheap liquor mixed with sweat. Several greasy wooden tables were occupied by shirtless, rough men, their shouts of drinking games and cursing filling the air. Yi Zhonghai didn't speak. He found a seat in the corner and gestured with his chin to the innkeeper, who wore an oily apron: "A bottle of Erguotou, and a plate of fried peanuts, please."

The liquor, murky and cloudy, was poured into a chipped enamel mug, its surface still stained with remnants of the previous spill. He picked up the mug, tilted his head back, and gulped down more than half of it. The pungent liquid burned his throat like hot irons, scalding his way down to his stomach, sending a shiver down his spine, but doing nothing to quell his anger. Cup after cup, the peanuts on the saucer barely touched the empty bottle. He then asked the innkeeper to refill it two more times, until his eyes glazed over, his tongue became tied, and he began muttering incoherently. One moment he was saying, "A fourth-level fitter... why is my apprentice so useless?" The next he was cursing, "That kid Gu Nan... what a nuisance!" Finally, he slumped onto the table, supported by a familiar coworker, and staggered towards the courtyard house, not even remembering how he crossed the threshold.

The afternoon bell rang, signaling the end of the workday. Qin Huairu carried her empty vegetable basket home, the handle burning her palms. She was still thinking about asking Yi Zhonghai if she could find another way, as there were only two days left before the rice harvesters went to the countryside. But when she arrived at Yi Zhonghai's door, she stood on tiptoe and knocked for a long time, but there was no response. Aunt Wang from next door poked her head out and said, "Uncle Yi went out at noon and hasn't come back." Her heart sank. She had no choice but to give up and dejectedly walked home, her steps feeling like lead.

As soon as they pushed open the courtyard gate, Jia Zhangshi greeted them with Banggeng. Jia Zhangshi was still clutching a greasy rag in her hand, clearly having run out halfway through wiping the table, but her eyes were fixed on the alley entrance, like a crow waiting for food, obviously having waited for a long time. Banggeng also craned his neck, his face showing a hint of anticipation—when he left in the morning, his mother had said there was some commotion at the factory today, and maybe by tonight they would hear news of Gu Nan's bad luck, which might change his chances of going to the countryside.