The Courtyard House: He Yuzhu Returns with Boundless Hatred for Revenge

Winter of 1956. In the kitchen of the canteen at the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, He Yuzhu stood there in a daze for a while, holding a kitchen knife in his hand.

He Yuzhu looked up blankly, surveying his surroundings. Grayish-white walls, a damp cement floor, several large iron pots embedded in a brick stove, and a small mountain of cabbages and potatoes piled on a large iron table. He looked down at his rough hands, then back around, and after a long while, sighed deeply, "I've actually been reborn!"

In his memory, the icy chill was slowly tearing away his last vestiges of life. On New Year's Eve, a time for family reunions, he was driven out by Banggeng, Xiaodang, and Huaihua, whom he considered his own children. Their mockery was like the cold, indifferent eyes of Qin Huai. That night, he huddled like a dead dog in the bridge archway, sensing his impending doom. As his life was about to be extinguished, a surge of overwhelming hatred erupted from him.

That hatred was almost tangible; perhaps even the heavens couldn't bear it anymore, or perhaps this extreme hatred from the depths of the soul touched a certain point. This hatred, reaching its critical point, instantly pierced through the spatial rift, resonating with and merging with countless fragments of soul consciousness from parallel worlds. The immense energy tore through the barriers of space and time, surging towards the time passage.

Time can be reversed, and the years can be turned back.

His fingers traced the sharp edge of the cleaver, a sharp pain shooting through him, and blood instantly seeped from the wound. He stared at the drop of blood, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"Qin Huairu, Yi Zhonghai, Jia Banggeng, and the other beasts in this courtyard, we'll take it slow. In this life, I'll make you wish you were dead."

"Silly Zhu, what are you daydreaming about? The workers are about to come for lunch!" A loud, urgent female voice rang out at the door. Liu Lan rushed in, carrying an empty bamboo basket and bringing a gust of cold air with her.

Liu Lan, in her early twenties, is at the prime of her life. She is not short, with a well-proportioned and sturdy figure. Wearing blue overalls, two thick braids hang down in front of her chest, swaying back and forth with her hurried movements. The ends of her hair brush against her ample chest, giving her a bold and assertive air, clearly someone who does hard work.

"Look at the time!" Liu Lan rushed to He Yuzhu, slammed her bamboo basket on the ground, and pointed at the clock on the cafeteria wall. "You still haven't finished chopping these vegetables!"

He Yuzhu was completely jolted back to reality by Liu Lan's loud voice.

Without a word, the cleaver fell with a whoosh. The rhythm was precise, the force steady. In the blink of an eye, the potato was broken into evenly sized chunks; the blade flashed, so fast it was dazzling.

Liu Lan quickly peeled the potatoes while glancing at He Yuzhu out of the corner of her eye. His fierce and efficient manner was completely different from his usual carefree self. She couldn't help but mutter, "Silly Zhu, what's wrong with you today? You're acting so energetic!"

He Yuzhu didn't even look up, his knife flashing even faster: "Enough talk, get to work."

Liu Lan was taken aback by his retort, pursed her lips, and scrambled her lard even faster. Soon, everything was ready. He Yuzhu walked to the largest stove. The large iron pot was scalding hot from the fire, its bottom faintly glowing dark red. He scooped up a large spoonful of solidified, whitish lard and tossed it into the pot. The lard quickly melted, churned, and emitted wisps of smoke. After all, it wasn't yet 59, and large enterprises like the steel mill weren't short of lard for the time being.

Liu Lan brought over a bowl of chopped potatoes, and then saw He Yuzhu grab a handful of chopped scallions, ginger slices, and crushed garlic cloves, and throw them into the boiling oil.

With a loud "sizzle!", an extremely powerful heat wave, mixed with the aroma of caramelization and spiciness, suddenly exploded out, and white steam carrying a strong fragrance soared into the sky, instantly filling the entire kitchen.

"This smells amazing!" Liu Lan sniffed hard, overwhelmed by the aroma. "Shazhu, you did a great job today!"

He Yuzhu didn't reply, his eyes fixed intently on the bubbling spices in the pot. He then quickly flipped all the potato chunks into the boiling oil!

He Yuzhu wielded the spatula, the wok making a loud clattering sound as it flew up and down. Liu Lan watched from the side, completely forgetting what she was supposed to be doing. Today, this silly Zhu seemed like a different person, completely unlike his usual careless way of cooking large batches of food! She couldn't help but swallow hard: "Silly Zhu, why are you acting like you're fighting someone when you're just stir-frying potatoes?"

He Yuzhu ignored her, his hands continuing to work until the food in the pot became glossy and the aroma became even more intense and enticing. Only then did he abruptly stop shoveling the spatula and turn off the air vent of the stove. Large plumes of white steam were still rising.

The lunch break bell finally rang, and the workers poured into the canteen like a floodgate had been opened. The once empty canteen was instantly filled with a cacophony of voices. Long queues quickly formed in front of the food windows, and enamel mugs and aluminum lunch boxes clattered and rattled.

Actually, He Yuzhu didn't really put his skills to use in making this big pot of food today. For He Yuzhu now, there's absolutely no need to try to please the workers by cooking a good big pot of food; as long as the workers don't find it unpalatable and have no complaints, that's enough.

Reborn, he seeks revenge against the beasts of the courtyard house, but also meticulously plans how to live his life. What good are a few words of praise from the workers for the delicious communal cooking? It's far more worthwhile to focus on the private kitchens, satisfying the leadership and quickly advancing his chef's rank. Even becoming the canteen director is a daunting prospect. The current He Yuzhu is no longer the clueless fool he once was; he's cold-hearted, and everything must give way to revenge and personal gain.

The noise in the kitchen completely subsided.

The pots and pans were all put away, and the stove fire was extinguished, leaving only a lingering warmth and the smell of cooking oil in the air. Liu Lan and the other kitchen helpers were cleaning up, while He Yuzhu took off his apron and draped it over the back of his chair.

He walked to the middle of the kitchen and clapped his hands. The sound wasn't loud, but it was enough to draw everyone's attention.

"Stop what you're doing, everyone. I have something to say," He Yuzhu said, his voice low but carrying a calmness he hadn't shown before.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"First thing," He Yuzhu's gaze swept over them, "from today onwards, everyone stop calling me 'Silly Zhu.' I have a name, He Yuzhu."

Liu Lan was taken aback for a moment, then burst out laughing: "Oh my, did the sun rise in the west today? After calling him 'Silly Zhu' for so many years, why are you suddenly taking it personally?" She found it a bit funny and didn't take it too seriously.

He Yuzhu didn't laugh, his gaze fixed on her: "I'm not joking. If you respect me, call me Master He, Zhuzi, or just He Yuzhu. But if anyone calls me 'Silly Zhu' again, don't blame me for turning my back on them."

His tone was cold, so cold that Liu Lan's smile froze. A middle-aged woman helping out in the kitchen quickly tried to smooth things over: "Zhu Zi is right. It doesn't sound good for a young man who's about to get married to keep calling him 'Silly Zhu.' He should be more careful next time."

Liu Lan pursed her lips and didn't say anything more, but she thought to herself: This silly Zhu, something just doesn't feel right about him today.