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

He Yuzhu locked the door with a crisp click, which sounded particularly jarring in the courtyard in the early morning. This lock had been lying in the drawer for several years. Ever since Yi Zhonghai and his team held a meeting to promote a civilized courtyard environment where no one would pick up lost items and doors would not be locked at night, and to compete for the title of advanced civilized courtyard, requiring all households not to lock their doors and to create an atmosphere of neighborly love, He Yuzhu's main house had never been locked.

He Yuzhu doesn't care about any of that now; he just wants to make those beasts suffer. What does this "advanced and civilized courtyard house" have to do with him? This place, teeming with freaks, actually got this designation? The neighborhood committee must be blind! If they can't even make decisions about their own homes, that's truly outrageous!

In the morning, I gave He Yushui a key, locked this door, and walked straight to the front yard.

As soon as he stepped out of the central courtyard, Yi Zhonghai, in the east wing, peeked through a corner of the curtain, his face dark as he stared at He Yuzhu's retreating figure, especially the lock on the door, which ignited his anger. "That idiot Zhu, he's really gone too far! Daring to openly break the rules of the compound!" he gritted his teeth, cursing under his breath. "Fine, very well. At the compound-wide meeting tomorrow night, I'll see how I deal with you! I'll make sure you're completely shut down!"

He Yuzhu no longer cares what those beasts think. Let them use their schemes and plots; he'll crush them all with force. He refuses to believe that his brute force can't subdue them.

He first went to a state-run pharmacy and bought some warming and nourishing herbs commonly used in medicinal cuisine, such as astragalus, goji berries, and angelica. Then he went to the free market and bought a three-pound old hen. Only then did he carry his things and walk leisurely towards the steel rolling mill.

Upon arriving at the canteen kitchen, it was still early, and not all the kitchen helpers had arrived yet. He Yuzhu greeted Liu Lan, who had arrived earlier, and then busied himself with his tasks. He first cleaned the old hen, chopped it into pieces, found a clay pot, put the chicken pieces and the medicinal herbs he had bought into it, added enough water, and secretly added a little bit of spiritual spring water from his space. Then he took it to the small kitchen and started simmering it over a low flame. Before long, a unique aroma, a blend of the fragrance of medicinal herbs and the rich flavor of chicken, began to fill the kitchen.

"Hey, Zhu Zi, what delicious stew are you making? It smells so good!" Liu Lan sniffed and came closer, asking curiously.

"This is a medicinal chicken soup prepared for the leaders, to help them recover." He Yuzhu said calmly without looking up.

Liu Lan pursed her lips and didn't ask any more questions. She dared not call He Yuzhu "Silly Zhu" anymore; the look in his eyes yesterday still made her a little scared.

After simmering the chicken soup, He Yuzhu began preparing the large pot of vegetables for lunch. He chopped vegetables and prepared ingredients with his usual efficiency, but his mind was no longer on it. The steel mill's banquet meals were no longer He Yuzhu's sole domain. He had only been the head chef of the canteen for two years, having left the restaurant, and his culinary skills were far from what Li Huaide had possessed during his time in power. He had only monopolized the leaders' private meals by virtue of the fact that the canteen was the only one with a dedicated kitchen.

Thinking of his culinary skills inevitably brought back memories of his apprenticeship at Fengzeyuan Restaurant, and of his mentor. He Yuzhu felt a pang of guilt; in his past life, he had been blinded by greed, manipulated by those old bastards, leading him to break with his master and utter so many absurd words. He was too ashamed to ask for his master's forgiveness now. He could only wait for his runaway father, He Daqing, to return and have him speak to his master. After all, they were fellow disciples, and it would be easier to talk to him.

After chopping some ingredients for the large pot of vegetables, he handed the work over to another mediocre cook in the canteen. He had to go to the private kitchen to cook for the leaders, one of whom was being used to test the medicinal effects of the spring water. As for the large pot of vegetables, the mediocre cook usually took charge of the cooking; after all, these days, as long as there was oil and water and the salt was just right, that was enough. The workers didn't have high expectations. They were satisfied as long as they were full; who had many other demands?

The sharp sound of the lunch break bell rang throughout the steel rolling mill, and workers from various workshops and offices surged out like a tide, noisily converging on the various canteens. Soon, long queues formed in front of the canteen windows, a cacophony of voices filling the air.

In contrast to the hustle and bustle of the main hall, the small, private kitchen located inside the canteen was remarkably quiet. The room was simply furnished, with a photo of the helmsman hanging on the wall and a clean white tablecloth covering a round table in the center. At that moment, Tan Jin, the first secretary of the steel rolling mill's Party committee, sat alone at the table, leisurely enjoying his lunch.

Tan Jin appeared to be in his forties, thin and with a haggard, sallow face bearing the marks of long-term illness, but the unwavering resolve forged in the crucible of war remained in his eyes. His old-fashioned Zhongshan suit stood ramrod straight, bearing the distinctive mark of a soldier.

His lunches were also extremely simple. As a level 10 administrative cadre, his standard of care should have included at least three meat dishes and two vegetable dishes, but Tan Jin always insisted on one meat dish and one vegetable dish, perhaps with a soup, without exception. This was a unique style of hard work and frugality that he had developed as a veteran of the Red Army, having come all the way through the war years.

He ate very slowly, and you could even see a hint of strain in his movements—the old wounds from his early hardships and the battlefield were still draining his energy. Because of his health, he usually only came to the factory to work two days a week, spending most of his time resting at home.

Even so, his prestige within the factory remained extremely high. As a member of the Party Committee of the Ministry of Metallurgical Industry, even after Li Huaide held absolute power in the steel rolling mill following the rise of the regime, he remained the First Secretary of the Party Committee, and the factory's core security force was firmly in his hands, demonstrating the organization's trust and reliance on him. Even in the later stages of the regime's rise, he held the high position of Vice Minister for two years until his death from illness, which explains why He Yuzhu sought to join his cause.

He Yuzhu, carrying the pot of medicinal chicken soup, gently knocked on the door of the small kitchen.

"Please come in." Secretary Tan Jin's voice was gentle but lacked strength.

He Yuzhu pushed open the door and carefully placed the casserole on the table. "Hello, Secretary Tan."

Tan Jin looked up, recognized He Yuzhu, and smiled slightly: "It's Master He. What's this...?" His gaze swept over the casserole, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He Yuzhu quickly explained, "Secretary Tan, to be honest, I've been researching medicinal cuisine for several years, and recently I feel I've gained some insights. Seeing how much you care about the factory and how your health needs improvement, I was thinking... could you please try it on me?"

Upon hearing this, Tan Jin's expression softened slightly, and he put down his chopsticks: "Master He, I appreciate your kindness. However, there are factory regulations..."

"Secretary, don't worry!" He Yuzhu knew who Secretary Tan was and immediately explained, "I paid for all the ingredients in this chicken pot myself. You can ask the security guards if you don't believe me. I made sure they checked it when I brought it into the factory and registered it. I didn't take a single penny off the company!"

Hearing this, Tan Jin's serious expression softened. He looked He Yuzhu over again, his eyes showing more approval: "Is that so? Then I must thank you for your kindness, Master He." He paused, then took out a wallet from his pocket. "However, I must pay for this. How much did it cost? Tell me the truth."

Knowing Tan Jin's temperament, He Yuzhu didn't refuse and honestly gave him a number. Tan Jin carefully counted out the corresponding amount and handed it to him, saying, "Public matters are public matters, and private matters are private matters; they can't be mixed up. I appreciate your kindness, but this rule cannot be broken."

He Yuzhu took the money, carefully put it away, and said, "Secretary, please drink this soup while it's hot. I'll come back to the canteen in a few days to ask you how it's doing and whether the recipe needs any adjustments."

Tan Jin looked at the pot of golden-yellow, uniquely fragrant chicken soup, then at He Yuzhu's sincere face, and finally nodded: "Okay, then I'll try Chef He's cooking."