I feel right at home in the world of the courtyard house.

In the late autumn evening, the setting sun bathed the tall steel rolling mill buildings in a hazy yellow light, and pale gray smoke slowly drifted from the chimneys, dissipating on the horizon. Before the end-of-get off work bell had even completely faded, workers in blue overalls and canvas hats were already streaming onto the main road of the factory area, pushing their bicycles in twos and threes, chatting and laughing as they walked towards the gate.

Chen Qing, carrying a kraft paper file folder, emerged from the side door of the workshop, his forehead still damp with a thin layer of sweat. His work clothes sleeves were casually rolled up to his forearms, revealing a section of his arm, his fingertips bearing faint traces of graphite from holding pencils and flipping through blueprints for so long. For the past two days, he had practically lived and worked in the workshop, his eyes slightly bloodshot, yet he dared not relax for a moment—this batch of parts wasn't ordinary civilian components; it was a military project just assigned from above, and precision, craftsmanship, and dimensions were paramount; even the slightest deviation was unacceptable.

The factory's technical department, where he worked, was a hidden gem. It not only had a group of experienced senior technicians, but also several highly qualified university graduates with solid professional foundations and broad perspectives. Newcomers like him, fresh out of vocational school and only joining the factory this year, were basically at the bottom of the department; important blueprints and core components were never their turn. Most of the time, he was left with scraps, auxiliary parts, and minor tooling improvements that others wouldn't even consider.

But Chen Qing never dared to be negligent.

He was holding back a lot of energy.

Coming from an ordinary background with no connections or influence, the only way to gain a foothold in the technical department and stand out from a group of college graduates and veteran technicians was to work harder, be more meticulous, and be more reliable than others. During the day, he would spend his days in the workshop, watching the machine tools and workers operate them, looking for bottlenecks and inefficiencies in actual production. At night, he would go home and, under the dim light, revise drawings, adjust processes, and calculate tolerances, often staying up late into the night.

Today was no exception. The file folder contained the process modification suggestions he had repeatedly checked and recorded on-site during the day in the workshop, which he planned to take home and work on refining overnight.

He kept his head down, hurrying through the factory paths towards the workers' bicycle shed. The shed was dimly lit, filled with the smells of rust, rubber, and dust. Rows of bicycles were crammed together, their bells and chains occasionally making soft clanging noises. Chen Qing skillfully found his slightly worn bicycle, hung his file folder on the handlebars, and reached for the lock.

Just then, a gentle yet steady greeting came from behind.

"Comrade, please wait a moment."

Chen Qing was taken aback and subconsciously turned around.

The man pushed a much shinier manganese steel bicycle, wearing a clean Zhongshan suit with a crisp collar, unlike the oil-stained ones worn by frontline workers. His demeanor was noticeably different. He wasn't very old, with regular features, a composed expression, and a steady, unwavering gait. He was clearly someone who had been in charge and had seen it all in his workplace.

Chen Qing felt a chill run down her spine and quickly stood up straight: "You... called me?"

The other person smiled slightly, their tone friendly and unpretentious: "You must be Chen Qing from the technical department?"

"Yes, I am Chen Qing. And you are..." He couldn't remember where he had seen this person before, but the other person immediately called out his name and department, so it was clear that they knew him.

The man nodded slightly, his tone calm yet conveying an undeniable sense of identity: "I'm Li Jing'an from the factory's second guesthouse."

As soon as Li Jing'an's name was uttered, Chen Qing's heart skipped a beat.

Although he hadn't been at the factory for long, he had heard quite a bit about the people and things going on inside and outside the factory. The director of the second guesthouse was definitely not an ordinary person. It was rumored in the factory that Li Jing'an was young, had a powerful background, and his words carried weight; even the production director and department heads treated him with great respect.

He immediately composed himself and respectfully greeted, "Director Li, hello! Did...you need something from me?"

Li Jing'an steadied the car, his gaze sweeping lightly over the file folder the man was carrying before returning to his slightly tired but bright-eyed face. His smile remained gentle: "It's nothing, I just happened to see him. A few days ago, the union organized a weekend dance, and I went. Your technical department head specifically mentioned you to me, saying he had a very good opinion of you."

Chen Qing was stunned for a moment, then an uncontrollable joy spread across his face, and even the tips of his ears felt slightly hot.

The section chief actually praised him outside?

Why would you even mention him to someone like Li Jing'an?

He quickly waved his hand, his tone somewhat embarrassed and humble: "Director Li, you flatter me too much. I just joined the factory this year and don't know anything. I'm just learning and observing from the experienced workers and I dare not slack off."

"A young person's diligence and hard work are the most valuable qualities," Li Jing'an said casually, as if in a relaxed conversation. "It's almost time to leave work, and you're still carrying around those file folders. Where are you taking those documents?"

Chen Qing subconsciously tightened the file folder around his chest, his eyes becoming more serious: "It's not for delivering documents. This batch of parts in the workshop has a heavy workload and high requirements. I've been overseeing it during the day, and I want to optimize some process details. I'll take it home and work on it tonight to try and not delay the production schedule."

Upon hearing this, Li Jing'an's eyes showed a hint of approval, and he gave a soft "Heh": "Going home and voluntarily working overtime to figure out the process? There aren't many young people in the factory as dedicated as you these days."

A simple compliment, spoken by Li Jing'an, carried a different weight. Chen Qing felt a surge of warmth in her heart, as if most of the fatigue from days of staying up late had dissipated, and she even unconsciously straightened her back a little.

"Of course, of course, I was just thinking... I should hurry as much as possible." He scratched his head, his tone shy, but he couldn't hide his excitement at being recognized.

Being valued by the section chief and encouraged in person by someone as influential as Li Jing'an was like a shot in the arm for him, a newcomer to the factory. He could almost see the day when he would gradually gain a foothold in the technical department, be given important responsibilities, and take on key roles.

Li Jing'an casually gave him a few more words of advice, telling him to take care of his health, not to overwork himself, and to let him know if he had any difficulties. After exchanging a few polite words, the two said their goodbyes.

Chen Qing straddled the bicycle, pedaled hard, and the wheels rolled out of the bicycle shed. He felt as light as if he could fly.

Li Jing'an stood there, watching the young man's slightly thin figure disappear at the factory intersection. The gentle smile on his face slowly faded, and his gaze darkened.

Important parts, military tasks, overnight process modifications...

Without needing to think too much, he could guess that Chen Qing was eyeing the highly confidential military orders that the factory had recently received.

He gently rubbed his fingers together.

Chen Qing lived in a typical tenement courtyard. The courtyard walls were mottled, and several families were crammed into the courtyard. He and his wife Zhou Yufei had only been married for a short time and were allocated two small rooms, one bedroom and one outer room. Although they were not spacious, they were kept clean and tidy, which was a peaceful little nest for the young couple.

When he pushed the door open, the aroma of food already filled the room.

Zhou Yufei had left work early—she was on the early shift and got home very early in the afternoon to do laundry, cook, and tidy up the house. Hearing the door open, she turned around, her apron still tied on, a gentle smile on her face: "You're back? Wash your hands quickly, dinner will be ready soon."

"Okay." Chen Qing responded, took the file folder, and went straight into the bedroom, placing it on the table beside the bed.

When they came out, Zhou Yufei had already set out the bowls and chopsticks: a plate of stir-fried cabbage, a bowl of steamed eggs, and a small plate of pickled vegetables—simple yet heartwarming.

"Are you tired today? Your eyes are all red." Zhou Yufei asked softly as she served him rice, her voice filled with concern.

Chen Qing sat down, picked up her chopsticks, but didn't rush to eat. Her face still held a hint of excitement: "Not tired at all. Yufei, let me tell you, I ran into someone at the bike shed today."

"Who is it?" Zhou Yufei answered casually, picking up her own bowl.

"Director Li of the Second Guesthouse, Li Jing'an." Chen Qing lowered his voice, but couldn't hide the smugness in his tone. "You know, he took the initiative to greet me and said that our section chief praised me in front of him, saying that I am down-to-earth and hardworking."

Zhou Yufei paused slightly as she picked up some food, then looked up at her husband.

Skillful.

What a coincidence!

A few days ago at the union dance, Li Jing'an bumped into her. The next day, Li Jing'an chatted with her for a few words at the entrance of the switchboard room, his attitude being excessively polite. Today, he actually "coincidentally" ran into her husband at the bicycle shed.

There are no such coincidences in the world.

A slight doubt crept into her mind, and she furrowed her brow almost imperceptibly.

Unbeknownst to others, she was carrying a heavy burden in her heart.

Xiao Su, a classmate, went out with Li Jing'an that afternoon and spent quite a while alone with him. When they returned, Xiao Su was acting strangely; her eyes darted around, and when asked what was wrong, she just shook her head and wouldn't say a word. Zhou Yufei could tell that something was definitely wrong with Xiao Su's behavior.

She kept this matter to herself and never mentioned it to anyone.

Zhou Yufei silently watched Chen Qing's enthusiastic expression. His face was full of the joy of being recognized, and his eyes were bright. He didn't think about anything else. He simply felt that being valued by his superiors and encouraged by important figures was something to be happy about and worth working hard for.

She opened her mouth, wanting to remind him, wanting to ask her husband if he really understood Li Jing'an, but she swallowed the words back.

Without evidence or any leverage, mere speculation will only make her husband think she's overthinking and being immature. Besides, they're just an ordinary technician and a worker, completely unrelated to the guesthouse director. Even if Li Jing'an had some ulterior motives, they wouldn't be the ones to be targeted.

After thinking for a moment, she simply said "Oh" softly, lowered her head, and slowly picked at the rice in her bowl, without asking any further questions.

Chen Qing was completely oblivious to the subtle change in his wife's expression, and continued excitedly, "This Director Li is a really nice guy. He's so approachable and speaks so kindly. He even told me that if I encounter any difficulties at work or in life, I can go to him. Listen to that, isn't he really helpful?"

Zhou Yufei's fingers tightened slightly, her doubts growing stronger.

Offering unsolicited favors is either a sign of malice or theft.

She had heard this phrase from the elders in her family since she was a child.

But she didn't say anything, just listened quietly, maintaining a gentle expression on her face, while secretly memorizing the name "Li Jing'an" even more deeply in her heart.

After finishing his meal, Chen Qing couldn't sit still for a moment. He wiped his mouth and went into his bedroom, closed the door, took out the file folder again, spread out the drawings, and, under the light of the 15-watt lamp on the table, began to revise, annotate, and calculate, stroke by stroke. The dim light illuminated his focused and tense profile. Outside the window, the sky was completely dark, and the sounds of neighbors talking, children crying, and the clatter of dishes came from the courtyard—everything was so ordinary and peaceful.

In the outer room, Zhou Yufei silently tidied the dining table, washed the dishes, and wiped the stove. The sound of running water could not hide the faint unease in her heart.