Siheyuan, integrating everything, cultivating the city

But since he took over this craft, the prospects of Siheyuan have gradually dimmed. The craft passed down to his generation seems redundant. Now young people are unwilling to learn this craft. They either work in factories or simply move to distant big cities. Siheyuan has become the home of the older generation, and these elderly people are becoming fewer and fewer.

Li Xiangqian scratched his head and walked towards the small house not far away. The house was not big, with a dim lamp hanging on the mottled wall and a few old sacks piled in the corner. He sat on a wooden chair and lit a cigarette. In the smoke, his thoughts gradually returned to the past few years. At that time, he was still learning the craft. His father led him and taught him how to do and repair it. Although he didn't make much money, everyone in the yard lived on this craft, relying on each other and living a stable life. But now, with the changes of the times, craftsmanship has become cheap, and people no longer need to tinker like before. New things are emerging in an endless stream. Who would care about these old things?

He thought of the young workers he met on the road when he was out working a while ago. They were carrying tool bags and had tired but determined looks on their faces. When they talked about the future, they always had some hope. Maybe not everyone's hope can come true, but at least they dared to think about it. Li Xiangqian was about to lose this hope. He knew that the courtyard house on which he depended for survival was disappearing. It was not just a matter of the neighbors moving away, but the entire lifestyle and the culture of the courtyard were disappearing bit by bit. The courtyard house used to be a symbol of a big family, but now, the family has long been broken up, the people have left, and all that is left are a few broken walls and a few empty wells.

It was getting dark. Li Xiangqian put out his cigarette, stood up and walked to the window. The yard outside the window was silent, and the lights in the streets in the distance were dim. The rotten potatoes were still piled by the well. The rain had soaked them, and the sticky juice slowly seeped into the soil, emitting a smell of corruption. He suddenly felt an inexplicable panic in his heart. This panic was not because of a few bags of rotten potatoes, but because he felt that his life was like these potatoes, rotting silently until it could no longer be saved.

A few days later, Old Wang came again. He was still skinny, leaning on a bamboo pole, but walking very fast. Li Xiangqian watched him come in from the door, holding a small basket of fresh-looking vegetables. Old Wang put down the basket and sighed, "Little Li, the harvest here is really bad. Don't think about growing potatoes to survive the winter. If the weather is bad, nothing can be saved."

Li Xiangqian gave a bitter smile and didn't reply. He knew that what Old Wang said was right, but apart from these potatoes, he couldn't think of anything else he could rely on to survive the winter. He asked Old Wang: "How many years can our courtyard last?"

Old Wang glared at him and said, "Don't let your imagination run wild. This yard has been here for hundreds of years. We've lived here and it's still doing fine."

Li Xiangqian did not say anything else. He understood that Old Wang was trying to comfort him, but this courtyard house with hundreds of years of history no longer had the vitality it once had. The young people left, the old craftsmanship was gone, and the baskets of rotten potatoes seemed to remind him that the courtyard house was slowly coming to an end.

A few days later, it rained heavily in the yard. Li Xiangqian looked out from the window. Raindrops hit the ground, splashing muddy water. The rotten potatoes had long been washed out of shape by the rain. The rain flowed into the old well, making the moss around the well even more slippery. A strong smell of corruption filled the air.

He sat in the house, listening to the sound of rain quietly, thinking about the changes that had taken place in the courtyard over the years. The neighbors moved away one by one, the old door of the courtyard began to lose tiles, and the brick walls of the courtyard were covered with moss and weeds. Li Xiangqian suddenly realized that perhaps this courtyard was destined to die, not because of anyone's negligence, but because this era no longer needed it. His mood was as heavy as the rain, as if every drop of rain hit his heart, reminding him of the beauty of the past and the powerlessness of the present.

Li Xiangqian walked back to the house slowly, his figure looked particularly lonely against the gray wall of the courtyard. The light in the house was dim, and the dim light could barely illuminate the few things on the wooden table. Li Xiangqian sat down and stared at the old ceramic bowl covered with scratches on the table, his eyes were empty, as if something had sucked away all the spirit. There was a suppressed emptiness in his heart, like a field that had not rained for a long time, cracked into countless cracks with no end in sight.

He reached out and pinched his cheek, trying to clear himself up, but his mind was a mess and he couldn't make sense of it. The craft had been passed down to him for so many years, and he had tried hard and struggled, but now, there were fewer and fewer people in the courtyard, and business was getting harder and harder. Even the potato field he had worked so hard to plant was rotten. He kept thinking in his mind: Did I do something wrong? Is there anything that can be remedied? He didn't dare to neglect every mouthful of soil and every piece of land. He spent so much effort and time, why did it all end up in vain?

Li Xiangqian supported his head with one hand and sighed heavily. He was not a person who gave up easily, especially since he grew up in this courtyard and learned the craft from his father since he was a child. He had already deeply engraved tenacity and perseverance into his bones. But now, he really couldn't see any way out. He felt like he was trapped in this square courtyard wall, without even a chance to breathe.

He suddenly heard a light knock on the door, interrupting his thoughts. Li Xiangqian frowned, wondering, "Who could it be at this late hour?"

The door creaked open, and Li Ergou, a neighbor about his age, appeared in front of him. He was holding a small basket with a few pieces of sweet potatoes that had already changed color.

"Brother Xiang Qian, I heard that your potatoes are rotten?" Li Ergou's tone was a little hesitant, but he asked after all.

Li Xiangqian was stunned for a moment, nodded, and replied with a wry smile: "Yes, it's a sin that we didn't even keep any good potatoes."

Li Ergou touched the back of his head and handed over the basket. "My land is not in good condition this year, and a lot of these sweet potatoes have gone bad, but at least there are still some edible ones. I'll give you some as an emergency measure."

Li Xiangqian looked at the sweet potatoes in the basket, feeling a little bitter, but he did not reach out to take them. He knew that Ergou's family was not doing well either, relying on odd jobs to make a living, and he could barely take care of himself, let alone have extra food for him?