Courtyard House: Inheriting the Restaurant, the Jia Family Wants to Get It for Free

"And my husband........."

In an instant, Qin Huairu was surrounded by several middle-aged women, who all pleaded with her. Their words conveyed the same message: Now that you, Qin Huairu, are successful, you mustn't forget your old neighbors in the courtyard.

Qin Huairu had never experienced anything like this before. Her face turned bright red, and she held her child, somewhat at a loss.

She didn't want to offend these neighbors she'd seen every day, and she dared not agree to anything on her own. She knew that in the end, everything at the factory required Cheng Shuhai's approval.

Just when she was in a dilemma, Cheng Shuhai returned.

"What are you all doing gathered here? It's so lively."

Cheng Shuhai's voice wasn't loud, but the courtyard instantly fell silent.

When the older women saw Cheng Shuhai, their faces immediately lit up with ingratiating smiles, and they dispersed, laughing and joking.

"It's nothing, nothing, just chatting with Huairu about everyday things."

"Director Cheng is back! Quick, go home and cook!"

Seeing the crowd disperse in a flurry, Cheng Shuhai understood everything. He walked to Qin Huairu's side, looked at the child in her arms, and then at her troubled expression, and he knew what was going on.

"Let's go inside," he said casually.

That evening, the news spread throughout the courtyard.

The atmosphere at the dinner table in Yan Bugui's house in the front yard was particularly oppressive.

"Dad, have you heard? Qin Huairu is now in charge at the factory, and he can even preside over meetings with the Soviets!" Yan Jiecheng said sourly while picking at the cornbread in his bowl.

Yan Bugui remained silent with a sullen face, simply slamming his chopsticks heavily onto the table.

"What responsibility? Isn't it just that Cheng Shuhai promoted her because she's his god-sister?" Yang Xiulian curled her lip. "If we're talking about competence, who can compare to our old Yan? He's an educated man!"

"Exactly!" Yan Bugui finally spoke, his voice filled with resentment. "I'm a primary school teacher, after all. I can do writing and arithmetic; in every way, I'm better than that rural woman. But she's lucky; she knows how to curry favor!"

"Dad, why don't you go and hug him too!" said the youngest son, Yan Jiefang, quick to speak.

"What do you know!" Yan Bugui glared at his youngest son. "What is Cheng Shuhai's status now? He's the director of the neighborhood committee and the chief technical consultant for international projects! I offended him last time I wanted to become the director. If I go and beg him again, where will I put my old face?"

"What's face worth?" Yang Xiulian asked bluntly. "If you could get Jie Cheng and Jie Fang's jobs in that factory, how much more money would you earn each month? It's a factory that cooperates with the Soviets; how could the pay be bad?"

Yan Bugui remained silent.

He had a clearer understanding of the situation than anyone else.

He accepted the position of neighborhood committee director without vying for it. But now, an opportunity that could change his family's fate is right in front of him. If he doesn't seize it, he'll regret it for the rest of his life.

"No, I have to give it a try!" Yan Bugui suddenly stood up. "Cheng Shuhai is the director of the neighborhood committee now; he needs to maintain good neighborly relations. He can't go too far!"

He thought about it all night and felt he couldn't go empty-handed. But he couldn't bear to give a generous gift, and he was also afraid that Cheng Shuhai wouldn't accept it.

Finally, he rummaged through the bottom of the cupboard and found a small bag of peanuts that a relative had given him for the New Year. He carefully wrapped it in newspaper and the next evening, just as Cheng Shuhai was getting off work and returning home, he knocked on the Cheng family's door.

"Director Cheng, are you home?" Yan Bugui walked in with a smile.

Cheng Shuhai was playing with building blocks on the ground with his two children when he saw Yan Bugui and knew why he had come.

"Teacher Yan is here, please have a seat." Cheng Shuhai pointed to the stool next to him, without getting up.

"No, no, I'll just say a few words and leave." Yan Bugui rubbed his hands together and placed the bag of peanuts on the table. "I heard that Huai Ru is now working as a key worker in the factory, she's really capable! It's all thanks to Director Cheng's excellent guidance!"

He started with a barrage of praise, then abruptly changed the subject.

"Director Cheng, you see, my son Jiecheng has been working at the steel rolling mill for so many years, and he's still just an apprentice with no hope of advancement. He's honest, hardworking, and willing to learn. Could you perhaps... let him work at your processing plant, even as an apprentice in the warehouse, doing odd jobs? We don't need a formal position or a high salary; we just want him to learn some real skills from you and broaden his horizons!"

Yan Bugui's words were extremely clever, packaging the back door approach as a desire for advancement, and even voluntarily lowering his requirements, making him seem particularly sensible.

Cheng Shuhai looked at the bag of peanuts on the table and found it somewhat amusing.

This was Yan Bugui's calculation: to gain the greatest benefit with the least cost.

He didn't look at the bag of peanuts, nor did he answer immediately. He simply slowly assembled a block before looking up at Yan Bugui.

"Teacher Yan, I understand how you feel. What father doesn't want the best for his child?"

Upon hearing this, Yan Bugui was overjoyed, feeling that there was hope.

However, Cheng Shuhai's next words froze the smile on his face.

"But I can't open this door." Cheng Shuhai's tone was calm, but it left no room for argument.

"The food processing plant is now a key foreign-related project under the Ministry of Industry. Every position there, even the cleaning staff, requires formal factory assessment and background checks. This isn't my factory; it's a state-owned enterprise. I can't use a public position to do personal favors."

"If Yan Jiecheng really wants to go, that's fine. When the factory holds a public recruitment drive in the future, let him register and take the exam just like everyone else. If he gets in based on his own ability, I welcome him. But if he wants to get in through my connections as the neighborhood committee director, that won't work."

These words were well-reasoned and contained no flaws.

They neither brought up his past ambition to become director nor humiliated him; they simply used the word "rules" to thwart all of Yan Bugui's plans.

Yan Bugui's face flushed red and then turned pale, and he stood there awkwardly.

He wasn't giving up and wanted to try again.

"Director Cheng, you see, if Jiecheng won't do, how about me? I'm an educated person, after all. I can do bookkeeping, write promotional materials, or something! I... I can even go without pay, just to help out and contribute to the national project!"

He had a good plan: once he got into the factory, he wouldn't have to worry about not having a chance to become a full-time employee.

Cheng Shuhai looked at him, almost bursting out laughing.

That old Yan is really good at scheming.

"Teacher Yan, I appreciate your kindness. However, the factory has a professional accountant transferred from the city, and there is also a dedicated person in charge of publicity work, so we are not short of manpower for the time being."

Cheng Shuhai stood up, walked to his desk, and picked up a few forms.

"However, there are indeed a few tasks that need help at the neighborhood committee. This is the latest population registration form for our area, and we need to make several copies to submit to the subdistrict office. If you really want to contribute to everyone, this task will be assigned to you."