Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

When an elderly man named Yi Zhonghai and a deaf old lady fell ill one after another, a brief power vacuum emerged in the courtyard.

This allowed Uncle Liu Haizhong to smell the fragrance of power he had never experienced before in his life.

He was like a poisonous mushroom that had been lurking in a dark corner for a long time. After a heavy rain, he couldn't wait to spread out his shiny cap and try to block out all the sunlight in the yard.

He began to devote himself to the great cause of "managing" the courtyard house with unprecedented enthusiasm.

This enthusiasm even surpassed his obsession with his seventh-level forging title in the factory.

Because in the factory, he was subject to constraints from the workshop director and factory leaders.

But in this courtyard house, right now, Liu Haizhong is the king!

Every day before dawn, as soon as the rooster crows, Liu Haizhong would sit up abruptly in bed, full of energy, as if he had heard the rallying cry.

With his hands behind his back, he deliberately showed off his signature, ten-month pregnant belly as he patrolled the courtyard.

His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, not missing a single "flaw" in his sight.

"Hey! The Yan family!"

His loud, booming voice startled Uncle Yan Bugui, who was brushing his teeth under the windowsill, making him tremble and almost swallow the toothpaste foam in his mouth.

"Second Uncle, what brings you here so early in the morning..." Yan Bugui said with a forced smile.

Liu Haizhong, his face stern, pointed at a wilted cactus on Yan Bugui's windowsill: "Look at this flower! It's almost dead! Crooked and lifeless, it seriously affects the overall appearance of our yard! This is a typical example of decadent petty-bourgeois sentiment! Clean it up right now!"

Yan Bugui cursed Liu Haizhong's ancestors for eighteen generations in his heart, but on his face he could only nod and bow: "Yes, yes, Second Uncle is right, I will take care of it right away."

After reprimanding Yan Bugui, Liu Haizhong strolled over to the west courtyard.

The coal briquettes in front of Xu Damao's house were piled up a little too high, with one end sticking out.

"Xu Damao!" Liu Haizhong roared again.

Xu Damao was about to go out to show a movie when he heard the noise and quickly ran out.

"Second Uncle, what are your instructions?"

"Look at this pile of coal!" Liu Haizhong pointed at the pile of coal, his voice filled with anguish. "It's piled up so high! What if some mischievous kid knocks it over? What if a spark falls and ignites it? This is a safety hazard! Don't you understand? Where is your sense of responsibility? Where is your sense of collective duty?"

A barrage of questions left Xu Damao speechless, and he could only repeatedly admit his mistakes and quickly flatten the pile of coal briquettes again.

Liu Haizhong nodded in satisfaction, feeling as if every pore on his body had relaxed.

The feeling of pointing out the flaws in the world and reprimanding the masses is simply wonderful!

Verbal reprimands alone are not enough; he wants to institutionalize and perpetuate his power!

He solemnly promulgated a series of new college rules, which he considered "brilliant and powerful," on the blackboard in the center of the courtyard, which was originally used to announce the opening of a college-wide assembly, using crooked and uneven chalk writing:

Provisional Measures for Regulating the Use of Public Water Pools in Courtyard Houses

Emergency Notice Regarding the Implementation of a Zoning Responsibility System for Environmental Sanitation within the Hospital

Several Regulations on Strictly Prohibiting the Drying of Underwear and Other Indecent Items in Public Areas of the Courtyard

"Guiding Opinions on Strengthening the Construction of Spiritual Civilization within the Hospital and Eliminating Loud Noises and Neighborhood Conflicts"

……

Each and every piece is so exquisitely detailed it's almost unbelievable.

For example, he specified the usage time of the public water pool down to "each household shall not exceed fifteen minutes per visit".

What if I exceed the time limit?

fine!

He was fined one cent for every minute overtime, and his wife, Auntie Erda, would sit by the pool with a small stool and an old stopwatch discarded from the factory, personally supervising the timekeeping.

This was tough on the housewives in the courtyard. Washing clothes and vegetables was like a battle. Amidst the rushing water, Aunt Erda's sharp urging voice could be heard: "Hurry up! Qin Huairu, you've already been on for thirteen minutes! If you don't finish soon, you'll be fined!"

Qin Huairu could only hurriedly rub the clothes while forcing a smile.

For example, if a child cries too loudly in the yard, it is defined as "making noise and affecting neighborhood harmony".

The first time, Liu Haizhong personally visited the house to issue a verbal warning.

The second time, a college-wide public reprimand will be issued on the blackboard, naming names.

The third time... that household will be disqualified from the year-end "Outstanding Family" award!

Although he himself proposed the "Advanced Family" award, and the prize was nothing more than a crooked, bright red certificate that he had drawn by hand, Liu Haizhong felt it was both a great honor and a punishment.

Liu Haizhong was completely immersed in the supreme pleasure of giving orders and controlling everything.

He enjoyed the complex gazes of his neighbors, some open, some covert, some filled with suppressed anger, and some with feigned flattery.

Whenever someone bows and scrapes to him and says, "Thank you for your trouble, Second Uncle," he feels taller than ever before, his spine straight, as if he has become the real "emperor" of this courtyard.

He even started imitating the mannerisms of high-ranking leaders in movies, speaking slowly and deliberately. His old catchphrase "that, that" disappeared, replaced by various official jargon.

"Well, we need to look at this from two perspectives..."

Regarding your question, I have three points to make...

He had somehow acquired two shiny, ornamental walnuts, which he would often twirl in his hands, making a "crunching" sound, and occasionally letting out drawn-out "hmm" or "ah" sounds from his throat, looking quite impressive.

However, he soon discovered that the "new order" he had painstakingly built had a huge, unfillable gap.

In this courtyard, there is a person and an area that is a lawless place that his "courtyard rules" and "official authority" cannot touch—the backyard, He Yuanchao.

He Yuanchao continued to do as he pleased, as if Liu Haizhong and the rules he had promulgated were nothing but air.

His family could pile up coal briquettes however they wanted, sometimes even piling them up like a small hill. Liu Haizhong watched from afar, his eyelids twitching, but he didn't dare to go closer.

He could turn the TV volume up as loud as he wanted, and the dialogue from classic movies and rousing background music would often echo throughout the courtyard in the evening, and no one dared to utter a single word of dissent.

The aroma of stewed meat at night was still so domineering and rich, wafting unrestrainedly throughout the courtyard, penetrating the nostrils of every household, and making people's stomachs churn with gluttony.

Liu Haizhong repeatedly tried to find fault with He Yuanchao, the toughest nut to crack, in order to truly establish his absolute authority.

Once, he saw He Yuanchao hang his clean blue work clothes on the most conspicuous clothesline in the courtyard, where they fluttered in the wind.

The opportunity is coming!

Liu Haizhong immediately swaggered over, his belly protruding, and prepared to give him a good talking-to about the rule that "indecent items are strictly prohibited from being dried in public areas."

He had already prepared his plan: to make a strong first impression, then explain the policies, and finally elevate the theme by making the man publicly apologize.

As a result, he had just reached the door of He Yuanchao's house, and before he could even knock, the door creaked open.

He Yuanchao brought out a steaming bowl of fragrant pickled fish soup from the house, walked slowly to the stone table in the courtyard, sat down, picked up a spoon, and took a leisurely sip.

That complex aroma of freshness, fragrance, sourness, and spiciness, like an invisible hand, instantly gripped the throat of Liu Hai.

He Yuanchao raised his eyelids and glanced at him. His eyes were calm and unwavering, as deep as an ancient well, yet they made Liu Hai feel a chill run down his spine, and cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.

There was no provocation, no disdain in his eyes, only a pure and utter indifference.

It was as if, in his eyes, Liu Haizhong was no different from a stone or an old locust tree in the yard.

Liu Haizhong had been trying to say something for a long time, but it seemed that he was frozen by that look, and he didn't dare to say a single word.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he could only manage a smile that looked more like a grimace. He forced himself to turn away, muttering, "Well, I was just...inspecting the backyard's cleanliness...hmm, not bad, very well maintained."

After saying that, he practically fled in panic, walked around the backyard for a long time, and slunk back to his own home.

On another occasion, he came up with a plan. Under the pretext of "responding to the national call for energy conservation," he wanted to add a new rule to the blackboard: after 9 p.m., no "unnecessary" lights or sounds are allowed in the courtyard.

It's obvious to anyone with eyes to see that this is aimed directly at He Yuanchao, who watches TV until very late every night.

Before the regulations were even written on the blackboard, when he was about to announce them at the next day's hospital-wide meeting, he heard Secretary Zhang from the factory office riding his bicycle, making a clanging sound, into the courtyard and politely asking He Yuanchao to come over.

Yan Bugui, being well-informed, quickly found out the inside story and quietly spread it around the courtyard: "Have you heard? He Yuanchao has been invited to write an important report for the factory leaders! Secretary Zhang personally came to invite him! That's quite a bit of influence..."

Now, his bangs looked completely lifeless.

He was like a fully inflated balloon, suddenly punctured by an invisible needle.

Write a report for the factory leadership!

What does this mean? It means that He Yuanchao is a favorite of the factory leaders! He's a cultured person who can get to the top!

His pitiful, limited official authority as the "second uncle" within the courtyard was shattered beyond repair by He Yuanchao, who was unyielding and connected to real power.

This made Liu Haizhong feel extremely frustrated and angry.

He lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The walnuts he played with made a "crunching" sound, and he felt as if a hundred thousand ants were crawling on his mind.

He realized that as long as He Yuanchao was still in this courtyard, he could never be considered the real "number one"!

He Yuanchao was like a nail, firmly fixed on his throne of power, making him unable to sit still!

He must be moved! He must be trampled underfoot!

He dared not confront them head-on.

He Yuanchao's calm gaze and the factory leaders' high regard for him were two insurmountable mountains.

Then the only option is... to use "tactics"! To use a scheme to kill someone with a borrowed knife!

That day, Liu Haizhong specially asked his second aunt to go back to the countryside and exchange a three-year-old hen for a high price from a relative.

The second aunt simmered the chicken soup over a low flame for a full three hours. The rich and overpowering aroma of the chicken soup filled the entire backyard, overpowering the smell of dinner from every household.

Liu Haizhong personally prepared a large bowl of the most succulent chicken soup, glistening with golden chicken fat, and specially selected the largest and fattest chicken leg to put in. His face was plastered with a "caring" smile that he had rehearsed countless times beforehand, and he knocked on Sha Zhu's door.

"Zhu Zi, are you home? Your second uncle is here to see you." He deliberately made his voice gentle and friendly.

From inside the house, after a long while, a weak reply came: "Who is it..."

The door opened, and a strong smell of alcohol and a musty, decadent odor wafted out.

Sha Zhu was eating a plate of dark, pickled vegetables and drinking the cheapest Erguotou liquor all by himself.

Since being fired from the steel mill canteen and then betrayed by his beloved younger sister He Yushui and the woman he longed for, Qin Huairu, he has completely broken down. He has an unshaven beard, sunken eyes, and smells strongly of alcohol.

He is now a trapped beast abandoned by the whole world, and can only numb himself with alcohol.

When Liu Haizhong brought in a bowl of fragrant chicken soup, a brief, incredulous look of surprise flashed across Sha Zhu's cloudy eyes.

"Second Uncle...you...you're..."

"Hey! What are you saying, kid!" Liu Haizhong slammed the chicken soup and chicken leg onto the table with a "bang," and the aroma instantly overwhelmed the sour smell of the pickled vegetables.

He sat down opposite Sha Zhu as if they were old friends, his face showing a look of utter disappointment and frustration. "You've lost your job, but you can't treat yourself like this! Health is the foundation of everything! With your amazing cooking skills, you'll never starve! Gold will shine eventually!"

His words were spoken with such sincerity that he seemed like a truly caring elder who looked after his nephews and nieces.

He stretched out his large, fan-like hand and patted Sha Zhu heavily on the shoulder, continuing earnestly, "I know you're feeling aggrieved! Your second uncle has seen it all! It's all because of that He Yuanchao! Now that he's in power and climbed the social ladder, he doesn't even respect me, his second uncle! It's outrageous! There's no law at all!"

Upon hearing the name "He Yuanchao," Sha Zhu's eyes instantly turned red, like a powder keg with a lit fuse.

He gulped down a large mouthful of strong liquor, not even bothering to wipe the liquid running down his chin, and gritted his teeth, snarling, "That bastard! I... I'll kill him sooner or later!"

"Kill him? How?" Liu Haizhong leaned forward, his voice full of seductive allure, coaxing, "Fists alone won't do! Didn't you learn your lesson last time? This is a new society; it's about policy! It's about methods! It's about the art of struggle!"

He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and whispered in Sha Zhu's ear like the serpent tempting Eve in the Garden of Eden: "Zhu Zi, do you want to get revenge? Do you want to stand tall in the yard again? Do you want to... show Qin Huairu, show your dear sister, who's a truly reliable man?"

Every question was like an awl, piercing Sha Zhu's most painful spot.

Sha Zhu's breathing became heavy, and his bloodshot eyes stared intently at his bangs, as if he were looking at the last straw.

Seeing that the time was right, Liu Haizhong's eyes gleamed with cunning and calculation as he slowly revealed his "open strategy": "Report him! We must unite and file a formal complaint against him for speculation and profiteering!"

……

He Yuanchao was completely unaware of all this and didn't care.

To him, the petty power struggles in the courtyard were nothing more than the croaking of a few frogs in a summer pond, and they didn't concern him at all.

He's been really busy lately.

During the day at the factory, besides efficiently completing his own work, he spent most of his time in the factory's technical department's archives.

With the handwritten note specially approved by Lou Zhenhua, he had unimpeded access to the entire archives.

He could freely access those valuable technical drawings and internal documents that were locked in metal cabinets and that even many veteran technicians had to apply for before they could see.

Those yellowed blueprints bearing the marks of their time, those technical manuals left by Soviet experts, might seem like dry symbols and lines to others, but in his eyes, they were a treasure trove waiting to be discovered.

The advanced understanding brought by the transmigrator's soul, coupled with the "god-level focus" state granted by the system, allowed him to thrive in the ocean of technology.

His knowledge base and technical vision are increasing at an extraordinary speed.

In the evening, he would promptly give He Yushui a special meal.

The little girl is smart and eager to learn, filled with the purest thirst for knowledge.

Under He Yuanchao's systematic guidance, her progress was nothing short of miraculous.

From struggling to even hold a pen at the beginning, I can now write simple words and sentences independently, and even recite several Tang poems.

Her handwriting has evolved from being crooked and worm-like at first, to now displaying a steady and upright character that He Yuanchao taught her.

He Yushui's admiration for He Yuanchao grew day by day, surpassing the affection between siblings and almost reaching the level of looking up to him.

She would proactively help He Yuanchao clean the house, sweeping the floor until it was spotless; she would wash his clothes and hang them to dry in a corner of the backyard.

Although He Yuanchao always said that she didn't need to do these things, the girl insisted. In her own words, "Brother, you taught me to read and write, which is a great kindness. I only feel at ease if I do this little thing."

Watching the little girl under the bright light, biting her lip and writing "Study hard and make progress every day" on her homework with a serious expression, He Yuanchao occasionally felt a warmth from the bottom of his heart.

In this cold, selfish, and calculating courtyard house, this is perhaps the only touch of "warmth."

That weekend, He Yuanchao did not go fishing as usual.

He rode his brand-new old-fashioned bicycle to Liulichang early in the morning.

With the money he received as a reward from the system last time, he carefully selected a batch of fine Xuan paper, several wolf-hair brushes of different sizes, and a stick of top-quality Huizhou ink from an old shop.

Then, instead of setting up a stall on Qianmen Street as before, he straightened his collar and went directly into Rongbaozhai, the most famous and oldest calligraphy and painting shop in Liulichang.

The master craftsman in the shop wore a long gown and sleeves, exuding an air of aloofness typical of cultured people.

When he first saw a young man in ordinary blue overalls walk in, he thought he had come to the wrong door, with a somewhat distant and polite professional smile on his face.

"Comrade, what would you like to buy?"

He Yuanchao didn't say much, but simply placed a long, rectangular scroll on the thick, sturdy mahogany cabinet that had been polished smooth by the passage of time.

When He Yuanchao slowly unfurled a long scroll of Du Fu's "Eight Poems on Autumn Feelings," written in running-cursive script in one go, which he had been inspired by the previous night, on the counter, the entire Rongbaozhai fell silent instantly.

Only a few regular customers could be heard gasping softly.

The powerful strokes, the incisive and penetrating lines, and the unrestrained and profound ink charm seemed to carry the desolate autumn wind of the Tang Dynasty and the melancholy and frustration of the poet saint, instantly capturing everyone's attention!

The shopkeeper, a well-informed and arrogant man, was sipping tea in the back with a purple clay teapot when he saw the calligraphy. He gasped in shock, his hand trembled, and he didn't even notice the scalding tea spilling onto his hand. He almost dropped the purple clay teapot.

He rushed out, his hands trembling, and pulled out his reading glasses from his pocket, putting them on. He practically pressed his face against the fine Xuan paper, muttering incoherently, "A masterpiece...this is absolutely a masterpiece! This style...this spirit...Heavens! Unprecedented in this world! Unprecedented in this world!"

Half an hour later, He Yuanchao calmly walked out of Rongbaozhai carrying a heavy envelope wrapped in kraft paper.

Inside the envelope was a full three hundred yuan as a "writing fee".

This was a "friendship price" offered by the excited shopkeeper, who said, "Let's be friends since this is our first time working together."

The shopkeeper practically begged and pleaded, hoping that He Yuanchao would produce more "masterpieces" in the future, which would be exclusively sold by Rongbaozhai, with prices negotiable.

He Yuanchao looked at the thick stack of brand-new "Great Unity" notes in the envelope and felt a sense of calm.

For him, money has increasingly become just a numerical symbol.

What he wanted was the solid feeling of taking control of his life step by step, without relying on anyone's charity or money conjured up out of thin air by the system, but relying on his own real strength.

Just as he was pushing his bicycle, preparing to ride away, a familiar figure appeared at the street corner not far away.

It's Lou Xiao'e.

She wore a pale yellow dress today, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, making her stand out in the crowd. A barely perceptible hint of hesitation and nervousness crossed her face as she walked towards Rongbaozhai.

The two looked at each other and were slightly taken aback.