Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

"Fellow workers and comrades! We are hereby announcing an important personnel adjustment—due to the major breakthrough achieved by the machine tool improvement team, the factory party committee has decided that: Comrade Li Huaide will be promoted to deputy factory director; Comrade He Yuzhu will take over as canteen director; and the former canteen director, Zhang, will be transferred to the facial towel factory."

The entire improvement team will be commended, with a minimum reward of 30 jin of grain coupons and 20 yuan in cash!

Every name struck Yi Zhonghai like a hammer blow to the heart.

He stood frozen in place, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.

A level 7 fitter! One of the factory's top technicians! Just because he didn't attend those few lectures by Engineer White Bear, he was kicked out of the group? He doesn't understand blueprint design? But who can deny his skill with his hands? How is he not qualified to fill a gap or take over a position?

If I had made it into the team... I'd get a big-ticket voucher, a 50 yuan bonus, and maybe even a thermos or nylon stockings! Now it's all gone!

Just as he was gritting his teeth, Director Zhang's voice drifted over again: "Master Yi, you heard the broadcast too."

"How about we change our minds? I'll go back and pack my bags then."

Yi Zhonghai suddenly looked up, his eyes hardening – so be it! It's just a month's salary? He can make it back by working a few night shifts!

"Here you go!" he gritted his teeth. "I don't have the money with me right now. Two o'clock this afternoon, same place, not a penny less!"

"Alright." Director Zhang's lips curled into a slight smile. "Still here, see you then."

He knew Yi Zhonghai was afraid of being in the spotlight, so naturally he wouldn't arrange an appointment in the office.

How many people in the logistics department are on the same side as He Yuzhu? If he, a good-for-nothing leader who is about to leave office, is caught handing money to someone, and it gets back to He Yuzhu, wouldn't that be asking for trouble?

He Yuzhu's promotion this time was frighteningly fast.

In just one year, he rose from a regular cook to a level 17 cadre—it was like riding a rocket.

But who can blame them for doing the work?

On the surface, the Red Star Tool & Functional Equipment Company was built on the tireless efforts of its improvement team. But what was behind the scenes? Without He Yuzhu's connections, could Li Huaide have persuaded Sharif to join? Would the White Bear engineers have personally taught the core technology to a group of Chinese people?

Those who have taken Sharif's class all know what's going on, but no one says it out loud.

The moment He Yuzhu stepped into the canteen, the entire kitchen erupted in excitement.

"Oh! Director He's here! Congratulations on your promotion!"

"Uncle-Master! This is a matter of bringing honor to our ancestors!"

He Yuzhu waved his hand and smiled nonchalantly: "There's no such thing as a director, it's just that the organization trusts me."

"Stop making a fuss, it'll look bad if word gets out."

As he spoke, he turned around and took out a few sugar coupons and a few small bills, along with the bicycle key, and handed them to his nephew Qian Shih-hu: "Shih-hu, ride my bike to the supply and marketing cooperative at noon and buy some milk candy. I'll give each of you two as a token."

Remember—don't tell anyone! I don't have that much sugar to distribute to the whole factory!

"Don't worry, I've got it covered!" Qian Shih-hu said, beaming as he took the items.

"Split the bill among the three canteens, and just leave the keys on my office windowsill," He Yuzhu instructed before turning and leaving.

He must keep a low profile now.

Although the resume can withstand any scrutiny, jumping to level 17 in just one year is too conspicuous.

He understood the saying, "The tallest tree catches the most wind, and the first bird to stick its head out gets shot."

Besides, Sharif will be leaving soon too.

This Soviet expert was not originally on the aid list; he was only there temporarily and would have to leave after giving the lecture.

As a result, he stayed at the No. 3 Steel Rolling Mill for almost half a year, stubbornly refusing to leave.

Why?

First, he was addicted to the braised pork, stir-fried mutton with scallions, and braised pork knuckle made by He Yuzhu, exclaiming that they were "even better than those at the Grand Hotel Moscow."

Secondly, he has a quirk—he is obsessed with collecting wooden food models, and the exquisite pastry shapes made by He Yuzhu perfectly fill the gap in his collection.

If the domestic projects weren't so urgent, his superiors would have urged him to go back long ago.

The notice has been issued, and we have to leave after the New Year.

But before he left, he made up his mind: he must make He Yuzhu cook a few good meals!

For this reason, he went to the canteen every few days, and whenever He Yuzhu had free time, he would cook a special meal for him.

There's nothing we can do; they're the unsung heroes behind the unsung heroes.

Without his guidance and introduction, how could Red Star Machine Tool have been launched so quickly?

"Master, the lunchbox is clean." The apprentice stood at the door, holding the enamel mug carefully.

Just as Jia Dongxu put down Yi Zhonghai's lunchbox, he was about to bring up the matter of He Yuzhu becoming the canteen director today—he had a feeling that something was off about it, and that He Yuzhu had probably used some underhanded tactics behind the scenes, maybe even bribed him.

Before he could finish speaking, Yi Zhonghai stood up, turned around and walked out, saying as he went, "Dongxu, I'm going home for a bit. I have something urgent to discuss with your aunt."

If I'm late, please let the workshop foreman know.

What is the status of a level 7 fitter in a steel rolling mill? They are the backbone! If they are three to five minutes late, who would dare to complain about it? Yi Zhonghai walked briskly and left the factory gate in the blink of an eye, heading straight for the courtyard.

When the neighbors in the front yard saw him return at midday, they were all taken aback.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. The third aunt only had time to call out "Old Yi?" before the figure flashed into the courtyard and pushed open the door to his own house.

Inside, an elderly woman was sewing shoe soles. Looking up, she nearly pricked her finger with the needle: "Old Yi? Why are you back at this hour?"

Yi Zhonghai's brows remained furrowed, and he lowered his voice: "It's urgent."

"Where's the money at home? Give me a hundred yuan."

"What?!" The middle-aged woman's hand trembled, and the thread snapped. "One hundred yuan? Are you crazy? Our monthly expenses are only a few cents! Eleven yuan is the most we have! Last time we had to buy food coupons, we were heartbroken for half a month. And now you're asking for a hundred? What happened?"

Yi Zhonghai rubbed his hands impatiently: "Don't ask so many questions, I really need it urgently."

When have I ever spent money recklessly? Go get it now!

The old woman stared at him for a few seconds. Seeing that his face was ashen and he didn't seem to be joking, she gritted her teeth, got up, went under the bed, and pulled an old cloth bag out from the wooden partition.

As you peel back the layers, ten "big black ten" bills lie quietly—that's all the cash they have in their household.

The rest was deposited in the bank long ago.

These days, how many ordinary families keep their money in the bank? But their family is different; they have a lot of savings, and they're afraid of it getting moldy, getting lost, or being eaten by rats if they keep it at home.

It can only be stored.

Yi Zhonghai took the money, stuffed it into his inner pocket, and turned to leave.

I was ten minutes late when I got back to the steel rolling mill.

The workshop director glanced up but didn't say anything.

He knew in his heart that with Yi Zhonghai's skills, even ten novices couldn't make up for ten minutes of work he missed.

He lingered at his workstation for a while, tightened two bolts, pretended to wipe his hands, and got up to say, "I'm going to the outhouse."

No one doubted it.

Where a level 7 worker wants to go is none of anyone's business.

But he didn't go into the toilet at all. Instead, he went around to the back wall and found Director Zhang waiting there.

Without saying a word, Yi Zhonghai pulled out five large black ten bills and handed them over: "Director Zhang, this is the deposit."

If you know the answer to what I'm asking, I'll give you the remaining five cards right away.

Director Zhang took the money, flicked it between his fingers, his eyes darted around, and then put it in his pocket, saying in a low voice, "Alright, I trust your character, Master Yi."

Yi Zhonghai nodded and lowered his voice: "Tell me, why did He Daqing leave back then?"

Director Zhang narrowed his eyes, remained silent for a moment, and then slowly spoke: "The rumors outside are that it's about the White Widow... Nonsense! Who is He Daqing? He's the top technician in the factory, even Chairman Lou respects him."

Whoever he wants to marry, who dares to stop him? But when he left, even Chairman Lou's personal persuasion couldn't stop him.

He paused, his tone growing increasingly serious: "I remember it clearly. He approached me privately back then, asking if I could get his son, He Yuzhu, into the factory."

I laughed and said, "Are you worried about not having enough room if you marry a widow? Should I help you find a courtyard?" He shook his head and said, "I might have to leave the capital and go far away..."

"Think about it, what would make someone like that so resolutely abandon everything and leave overnight? A woman? Impossible!"

Yi Zhonghai felt a tightness in his chest upon hearing this, and his fists clenched involuntarily.

There was definitely something going on!

Moreover, perhaps only that deaf old woman knows the truth.

But she pretended to be deaf and mute for decades, insisting that Sha Zhu would take care of her in her old age, cook for her, bring her medicine, and provide her with three meals a day without fail.

Does she really believe that Sha Zhu is reliable? She must be out of her mind!

Jia Dongxu listened to him. Qin Huairu was sensible and filial. With these two children, how could she be inferior to that carefree He Yuzhu?

How foolish! He's getting senile!

He took a deep breath, shoved the last five large black ten-dollar bills into Director Zhang's hand, and asked in a hoarse voice, "Anything else? Is there anything else you know but haven't said?"

A gust of wind slipped in through a crack in the wall, causing the edges of the banknotes to flutter slightly.

Director Zhang held the hundred-yuan note, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Finally, he stopped hiding it and lowered his voice to say to Yi Zhonghai, "To tell you the truth, I don't know much about what happened inside either."

But if you want to investigate He Daqing, you might as well take a trip to Nanxiang Hutong—Widow Bai used to live there, and I heard he often stayed overnight at her house… Tsk, you two are neighbors, don't you have any idea about these things?”

Upon hearing this, Yi Zhonghai's mind went blank for a moment, and he immediately realized what it meant.

No wonder He Daqing was always away from home during that time, sneaking back in the middle of the night – he was sneaking into someone else's bed!

"Thanks, Director Zhang."

Before he finished speaking, Yi Zhonghai turned and left, his steps crisp and decisive.

It hurt to spend that hundred dollars, but the information I got in return was worth it.

After his figure disappeared through the door, Director Zhang shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Hey, it's just a big compound, is it really necessary to go to such lengths? Not even blinking an eye at a hundred yuan... They must have a deep grudge against us."

Meanwhile, outside the Zhengyang Gate, the setting sun cast its rays upon the small tavern, and the cloth banners of the tailor shops along the street swayed gently in the wind.

"Sherif, these shabby taverns outside are really no fun." He Yuzhu got off his bicycle, brushing the dust off his trousers as he spoke. "I've been to that place you're talking about. The peanuts were all soggy, and the liquor was diluted with water. One sip and it'd make your back teeth ache."

"But Vladimir said that only by drinking in a place like this can you experience the most genuine happiness of ordinary people like you." Sharif grinned, speaking in broken Chinese, not exactly fluent, but earnest.

He spent a few months at the Third Steel Rolling Mill, and they could barely chat, except when it came to ordering food.