Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

On the other side, Lou Bancheng sat in his office, smoking one cigarette after another, his brows never unfurrowed.

He Daqing is gone, and now there's a problem—no one in the cafeteria can keep things in order.

Let alone individual cooking, even the communal dishes have drawn complaints from workers who say they are hard to swallow.

In the past, he wouldn't have bothered with all this arguing. He'd already given you food, and you still wanted to be picky?

But things are different now.

The policies have changed, workers have gained higher status, and they can easily file complaints with the government.

The factory is still nominally his, but his hands and feet have long been tied.

You can't hit them, you can't scold them, and you have to give reasons for firing them; if you're not careful, it will cause a public opinion storm.

The worst part is that three days later, those key clients will be coming to renew their contracts!

Last time, we ate the dishes cooked by He Daqing, and the guests and hosts were very happy, so we decided to place an order on the spot.

If the hospitality is subpar this time, not only will the order fall through, but all future collaborations will also be ruined.

Lou Bancheng irritably stubbed out his cigarette, when suddenly a thought flashed through his mind—

"Oh, right! Before He Daqing left, he said... his son's skills are no worse than his!"

He sat up abruptly and immediately had someone call the cafeteria manager.

As soon as the man entered, Lou Bancheng cut to the chase: "What are your arrangements for the reception three days from now?"

The cafeteria manager looked distressed and cautiously said, "Chairman Lou, how about... we outsource it? We can order a table from outside?"

"Outside?" Lou Bancheng squinted. "Don't look for state-run restaurants, they're too rigid."

Go check if there are any reputable private kitchens in town, and prioritize contacting those with famous chefs to see if you can make a reservation.” He paused, then added, “Also, go find He Daqing’s son right away.”

"He Yuzhu?" The cafeteria manager was taken aback.

"Yes, it's him." Lou Bancheng leaned back in his chair, his tone calm but undeniable. "He Daqing said it himself, his son's skills are no less than his own."

"Let him keep an eye on things, in case we can't get a spot elsewhere, then he can fill in."

Although doubts still lingered in my mind—after all, no matter how capable he was, he was still just a young upstart—now was not the time to be picky.

He's no longer the Lou Bancheng who could summon a famous chef with a single word. Now, he has to be humble, tactful, and have a backup plan when doing things.

The canteen manager nodded vigorously: "Understood, I'll go inquire at a few time-honored restaurants in the city right away, and while I'm at it, I'll go to the courtyard house and have a chat with He Yuzhu."

……

At the same time, in the kitchen of Fengzeyuan Restaurant.

Li Yuanguo lifted the curtain and walked in, a smile on his face: "Zhuzi, there's been a response to what you asked me to inquire about."

He Yuzhu was chopping scallions with practiced ease when he heard this. He looked up and asked, "Master, you mean... that kung fu master?"

"That's right." Li Yuanguo nodded. "Next Sunday, I'll take you to visit him."

The fact that someone is willing to see you is an opportunity.

He Yuzhu sheathed his knife, wiped his hands, and asked seriously, "Then what kind of gift should I bring?"

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on his young face; his gaze was calm, yet sharp.

"Two boxes of pastries and two bottles of wine, is that enough? Are you short of money?"

"Master, you can rest assured. I have it all saved up here. I have so much money that it can't even fit in my pockets."

He Yuzhu grinned, his eyebrows raised with a hint of smugness.

These days, being a cook is no joke—you can easily make forty yuan a month, more than enough to support a family of seven or eight.

Those who cook at Fengzeyuan are all considered to have "secure jobs" by the locals.

After work, he quickly picked up two aluminum lunch boxes, hopped on his gleaming old bicycle, rang the bell, and headed straight for Hongxing Elementary School.

The night breeze brushed past my ears, and the streetlights cast long shadows.

When he arrived at the school gate, He Yushui was already hopping around waiting for him at the gatekeeper's room.

He Yuzhu immediately pulled out two Daqianmen cigarettes from his pocket and handed them over with a smile: "Grandpa, you've worked hard. Have one to perk you up."

The security guard was overjoyed and waved for the people to leave.

The two brothers rode their bicycles home, the wheels making a crisp clattering sound as they rolled over the bluestone pavement.

Just as I turned into the courtyard, I bumped into Yan Bugui carrying a bucket of water and swaying back. His trousers were rolled up to his knees and his shoes were covered in river mud.

"Hey, Uncle San is fishing again?" He Yuzhu joked. "You teachers really know how to enjoy life. Classes end early, and you can even sneak in a couple of fishing rods. You live a more comfortable life than retired cadres."

Yan Bugui sighed and lifted the bucket lid: "Don't even mention it. I was starving when I finally remembered this, and then I had such bad luck today—I only caught one carp, and the other three were all crucian carp!"

The "carp" in the bucket was smaller than the palm of my hand; it was indistinguishable from the crucian carp when they stood together.

Try selling this thing? Nobody's buying it.

We can only cook it ourselves as an extra meal.

He suddenly squinted at He Yuzhu, then changed the subject: "Zhuzi, if you don't mind these crucian carp... I'll take them with me? Only you could cook this little fish into something that tastes like dragon liver and phoenix marrow."

How could He Yuzhu not understand the hidden meaning in those words? The Third Uncle was here to freeload.

But my younger sister is still at school, and I can't just let her wait around hungry.

He readily agreed: "Sure, Uncle San, how about coming over for a drink later?"

"Sure! Sure!" Yan Bugui beamed immediately. "I'll bring a bottle of loose liquor with me!"

For less than three cents, you can enjoy two hearty dishes and a hot meal. This is an absolute steal!

Not to mention Sha Zhu's culinary skills, which are so good that even the master chefs of state-run restaurants secretly learn a few tricks from him.

"No need to bring the wine, I still have half a bottle left." He Yuzhu waved his hand.

"Oh dear, how could I accept this!" Yan Bugui quickly declined, then turned and shouted towards his house, "Old woman! Steam two buns made from two kinds of flour and take them to Zhuzi!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already nimbly scooped the "carp" out of the bucket, stuffed the bucket and the remaining three crucian carp into He Yuzhu's hands, and slipped back into the house.

He Yuzhu stood there, shaking his head with a wry smile: "Hey, this old man, he's always trying to take advantage of others."

He turned and took his sister's hand. "Come on, Yushui, let's go home for dinner."

……

Three dishes are definitely not enough to fill a tooth gap, especially for someone like Yan Bugui, who doesn't consider himself full until he's burping and oozing oil.

He Yuzhu rolled up his sleeves, lit the stove, and the firelight reflected on his face.

First, a pot of crucian carp and vegetable soup bubbled and boiled, the milky white broth bubbling and the aroma filling the air; then, with a flick of the spatula, the vinegared cabbage sizzled into the pot, the sour and fragrant aroma exploding instantly, the whole alleyway could smell it.

With that one bite, the cabbage was crisp and refreshing, sweet and sour, and glistening with oil—it was simply irresistible.

The fragrance seemed to have grown legs, roaming freely throughout the yard.

Several windows were flung open with a "whoosh," and heads popped out one by one, sniffing loudly and staring blankly.

Jia Zhangshi leaned against the windowsill, her neck stretched out, her lips trembling as if she were chewing on some harsh words, but the aroma of food choked her throat, and she couldn't even finish her curse.

Yi Zhonghai was eating when he smelled the irresistible aroma and slammed his hand on the table: "Bang!"

The bowls and chopsticks jumped up, and soup spilled all over the table.

"That idiot Zhu! Is he deliberately trying to provoke us? Who is he trying to impress with all this delicious food? He's just like his father, selfish and disrespectful to his elders!"

The older woman next to her kept her head down and ate her rice without saying a word, but she was thinking to herself: "She's a professional chef, is it wrong for her food to taste good? The key thing is... these past two days, the deaf old lady has also been craving meat, and she's been knocking on my door every day with her cane, begging for meat."

After hesitating for a long time, she finally spoke up: "Zhonghai, the old lady in the backyard has been saying she wants to eat meat lately..."

"Didn't we just eat this a couple of days ago?" Yi Zhonghai frowned deeply. "Raw meat is only seven or eight mao a pound now, and cooked meat costs a dollar and twenty cents! We're just eating cabbage ourselves, but she's acting up as soon as she smells the aroma!"

An older woman sighed, "Who can stand being fumed like this every day? When Sha Zhu turns on the stove, even an old lady with deaf ears can't escape the smell."

"That bastard!" Yi Zhonghai grew angrier the more he thought about it. "It's one thing to cook a meal and not share it, but he deliberately lets the aroma waft out to tempt people. He'll get his comeuppance sooner or later!"

He almost rolled up his sleeves and rushed over to lecture them, but then he remembered that Yan Bugui was also staying at the He family's house, so he held back.

But we can't ignore the old lady's situation.

That old lady is usually quiet, but if she really makes a scene, she can chase after him for meat in front of the whole courtyard. He can't bear the embarrassment.

Finally, he could only grit his teeth and order, "Fine, go buy a pound of meat tomorrow."

We'll give a small portion to the old lady, and the rest... we can have a little something too.

They lived in Zhongyuan, just a wall away from Shazhu's house. Every day, the aroma of their food wafted in, making their insides ache with hunger.

This meal wasn't just to show respect to the elders—it was also to relieve my heart, which was about to explode from the torment of the aroma.

In this courtyard house, Yan Bugui is the only one who can benefit from He Yuzhu's culinary skills.

Others? Don't even think about it.

He Yuzhu usually keeps to himself and rarely goes out. Before dawn, he washes himself, picks vegetables, and scrubs pots by the pool. His movements are as swift as a cat licking its paws, and he never dawdles.

He's a man of few words, barely saying three sentences a day. Who would dare to knock on his door every day for a free meal?

But today, just as the three hot dishes and a pot of soup were placed on the table, glistening with oil and emitting a wonderful aroma, Uncle San arrived right on time, knocking on the door with a light but firm sound, as if he knew the door very well.

"Here it comes!" He Yuzhu opened the door and saw that the Third Uncle was indeed carrying two steamed buns made from two kinds of flour. He chuckled to himself: This old man really believed my words about "bringing staple food". If he hadn't made two extra steamed buns to keep at the bottom of his trunk, there probably wouldn't even be enough to fill the gaps between his teeth today.

The steamed buns looked grayish, with very little white flour mixed in, probably less than 30%, a typical case of "three parts appearance and seven parts deception".