Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

While queuing for dinner, several workers from Workshop 3, who had just finished work, gathered around the window, sweat still dripping from their foreheads, enthusiastically reviewing the "hot water heater" show that afternoon.

Ma Hua was scraping the bottom of the pot with a large ladle when he heard this. His mouth stretched from ear to ear, and with a flick of his wrist, the two dishes were piled up like small volcanoes, with the tips almost piercing the lid of the lunchbox!

This kind of treatment is something they don't usually get—the two workers were stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing: "Wow! Did the sun rise in the west today? Thanks, Master Ma!"

"Hey, no need to be so polite!" Ma Hua slammed his spoon against the rim of the bucket, his voice booming, "Making sure our frontline brothers eat well is the canteen's bottom line!"

He'd heard Sha Zhu repeat those words a million times; they came out of his mouth effortlessly, as if he'd written them himself. No sooner had he finished speaking than he suddenly lowered his voice and took a half-step closer: "Just now you were praising my master—and here we are, immediately adding more!"

The two were taken aback, blinked, exchanged a glance, and smiled knowingly: So the secret to a full stomach was hidden in the words? Praise Sha Zhu, and you'll be full!

A single truth is worth ten meal tickets!

But Jia Dongxu, who was in the corner wearing a mask and with his hat pulled down low, almost dug his nails into his palms when he heard this.

Why should he? Sha Zhu can make a fortune just by talking, while Jia Dongxu has to clean the latrine and hide from people while smelling his own odor?

The factory is booming lately—steel production has doubled, benefits are skyrocketing, and even the greenhouses are producing lush green spinach and cucumbers. The most practical benefit? Everyone gets fifteen extra special food vouchers! They don't replace a main meal, but adding a scrambled egg or a cold dish makes it quite delicious.

Jia Dongxu also had one. But in the past, the cafeteria would roll their eyes at him, and when scooping food, their hands would tremble, and four or five vegetable leaves would be considered generous; most of the time, three leaves would float on the soup, swaying like his life.

He decided to sell tickets for money, bringing his own steamed buns and pickled vegetables.

Now? Transferred to toilet cleaning, salary halved, and then selling tickets? Probably not even enough to fill a steamed bun.

So he wore his hat askew, smeared his face with soot, and covered himself completely with a mask, looking like a ghost just dug out of a coal pile. The cafeteria lady glanced at the smell, scrambled her hands faster than lightning, finished with a spoonful, and quickly waved her hand: "Next!"

Dirt is a dirty spot, but it can still fill a gap between your teeth.

"You idiot Zhu...who do you think you are? I'll tear you apart sooner or later!"

He carried the box of bland food out of the cafeteria, his eyes so dark they could drip ink.

All the bad luck he's had over the years has been nailed to Sha Zhu's spine—one day, he'll chew it up and swallow it down, bit by bit, with interest!

But right now, he has to rush back to the fitter's bench. His monthly salary of twenty-odd yuan is the bare minimum for his family to survive.

He paused, suddenly remembering the time when Yi Zhonghai was still around—rules were rules, but the master would cover for him, his coworkers would look after him, and if he made a mistake, someone would take the blame for him.

He glanced down at the lunchbox: "Let's save this food; we won't need to cook at home tonight."

At the same time, the factory leadership meeting had just ended.

Half an hour after the end-of-get off work bell rang, the conference room door creaked open.

Factory Director Yang had a stern face, Li Huaide had a half-smoked cigarette in his mouth, and Wang Shushu stood up with his cane, his back slightly hunched. He didn't say a word, only raised his eyebrows at Factory Director Yang—the meaning was clear: the old man didn't want to get involved, you can do as you please.

The other deputy factory director wasn't even at the factory.

The result? Director Yang resigned.

The retreat was swift and decisive. It wasn't an admission of weakness; rather, Wang Shushu's seemingly casual reminder carried more weight than an official seal.

Li Huaide escorted He Yuzhu all the way to the logistics department building, finally unable to contain himself, patting him on the shoulder and bursting into laughter: "Zhuzi! We owe you a lot for your 'little invention' today—otherwise, if we wanted to get involved in the production line, we'd probably have to wait until next spring!"

"Oh dear, just tinkering with some gadgets, what kind of invention is that?" He Yuzhu waved his hand with a smile.

Li Huaide shook his head, his eyes gleaming: "Your 'little gadget' will sell like hotcakes even in the White Bear Country! People in Beijing will be scrambling to buy it, and the Northeast will be stockpiling it. We'll even save on the money to build a factory—just adjust the lathes, spray the welding torches, and the assembly line will be up and running!"

Sha Zhu scratched his head but didn't reply.

But the blue light from the immersion heater had already illuminated the entire steel rolling mill's ledgers.

The last time we started a washing machine factory, it was purely because we were forced by the steel rolling mill—they couldn't even make a proper casing, so we had to start from scratch.

"Zhu Zi, how about a couple of drinks today?"

Li Huaide raised an eyebrow, his eyes crinkling with laughter, and his back straightened considerably. Having just pocketed a windfall, everyone in the factory was scrambling to light cigarettes for him.

He Yuzhu waved his hand: "Brother Li, I really can't today. We're newlyweds, I have to hurry back to warm the bed."

"Ouch!" Li Huaide slapped his forehead. "I was so busy having fun that I forgot you just lifted your veil yesterday! Fine, I won't stop you, now get home and go coax your wife!"

"Then I'll head out first." He Yuzhu nodded with a smile, turned around and left.

Pushing open the door to enter the courtyard, He Yushui was already squatting in front of the stove, tending the fire. Lou Xiao'e had also woken up and was stirring the porridge while wearing an apron. Hearing the noise, she immediately came over, tiptoeing to take off his hat and coat, her fingertips still trembling slightly—it had only been half a day since they parted, and her heart felt like it was holding a fluttering little sparrow.

"Yuzhu, you're back..."

He pulled her into his arms, and the bride's ears instantly turned bright red. Her eyelashes were still trembling when she pulled away.

"Is the food already served?"

"The cornbread just went into the steamer, and the cornmeal porridge is bubbling away." She lowered her head, pursed her lips, and spoke softly.

"Huh? Why are you bringing out cornmeal?" He raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't there a mountain of wheat flour?" — The several tons brought back from Hong Kong Island were enough for three people to eat meat-filled pancakes every day for a year.

"Let's be frugal, for the sake of peace of mind." She shook her head gently. "The aroma of fine grains fills the air every day; those eyes in the courtyard are glued to our door. Besides, our cornmeal is sifted, so it's sticky, sweet, and incredibly fragrant when steamed."

She wasn't lying. She had never tasted this coarse grain before, but when the flames from the stove licked her nose, the aroma of the burnt grain filled her nostrils, even more enticing than osmanthus cake.

"Okay, if you don't like it, we'll use white flour instead." He rolled up his sleeves and went into the kitchen. "Enough! We eat steamed buns three times a day, and we've stockpiled enough flour to build a west wing. As for the neighbors? Even if we send a complaint letter to the heavens, no one will dare to touch a hair on our heads—our family is an exception."

Beside the stove, he tossed and turned the wok, and two plates of vibrant green vegetables were ready in the blink of an eye. He Yushui's shredded vegetables were so even, as if they had been measured with a ruler. He simply put them into the wok, sautéed them until fragrant, and took them out of the wok, as swiftly and efficiently as flipping a deck of cards.

As soon as dinner was served and the chopsticks touched the rim of the bowls, Lou Xiao'e lowered her voice and began to recount her "terrifying experience" from the afternoon: she slept until the sun was setting, ate a bite of food, and then slipped out of the yard for a stroll. As soon as she entered the house, the young wives surrounded her, and the older women chased after her, clutching sunflower seed shells and exchanging pleasantries, as if they wanted to recognize her as their goddaughter on the spot—she was so frightened that she bowed repeatedly and fled back into the house, still panting.

He Yuzhu paused, his hand still holding the food, his mind perfectly clear:

Once you stand tall, the winds will blow around you; behind every smiling face, who isn't calculating how many sesame seeds they can swindle from your pocket?

He didn't point it out. Lou Xiao'e had been protected by the Lou family since she was a child, and had never even seen water from a sewer. This old well in the courtyard was a bit dark, but she had to explore its depths herself—it was better than being bullied in the future.

The water splashed as he washed the dishes. He brought over two kettles of boiling water and poured them into a basin, where steam rose. The two sat side by side soaking their feet. In the rising steam, he suddenly spoke:

"Xiao'e, I have to go out the day after tomorrow night to see that friend from last time."

His voice was soft, yet like a pebble thrown into water—he had actually invited Chen Xueru. She was already showing her pregnancy, and he needed to go and keep watch over her that night.

"I doubt he'll come back, but he'll surely be stepping through the dew before the rooster crows."

Lou Xiao'e's face fell instantly, her chopsticks poking at the bottom of her bowl: "The whole night?...You didn't come back?"

"I can sneak back later." He paused, lowering his voice even further, "I'm just afraid of running into the night patrol... After all, this is a 'forbidden' thing."

She understood instantly, her eyelashes drooping before lifting again a moment later, her voice soft yet crisp: "Then you must be very careful, don't get caught... But our family is piled high with gold and silver, why do we have to wade into this mess?"

"It's not about the money. The key is that those antiques and paintings will eventually be sold off for cash if they fall into the hands of outsiders. It's better for us to keep them ourselves and open an exhibition hall when we get old. We can look at them every day and have a lot of fun."

Lou Xiao'e couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Who allows private individuals to run exhibition halls these days? Are you planning to go to Hong Kong Island and cause trouble?"

"It might not be a bad thing," He Yuzhu said, raising an eyebrow. "Who knows what will happen when policies loosen up? Besides, China is poised for takeoff in twenty years. Once the market opens up, opportunities will be everywhere. If I start investing in factories now, I might just become 'Half-City He' in the future."

Of course, that's all for later. Right now, the most important thing isn't any grand future plan.

He took the foot-washing water out to empty it, then returned and closed the door behind him. Turning to look at Lou Xiao'e sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes were burning, and his voice lowered slightly: "Xiao'e, you should rest now..."

"What time is it...?" Lou Xiao'e glared at him, but when she met his wolfish gaze, her face flushed red.

Yesterday's experience was really great, but I was exhausted afterwards. My back ached and my legs were weak; even the slightest movement made me numb.

She lowered her head and pursed her lips, then muttered softly after a while, "Today... you have to listen to me. You can only stop when I tell you to."

After a passionate and tender moment, Lou Xiao'e's cheeks flushed pink as she playfully scolded, "You're so naughty! You promised to listen to me, but you wouldn't stop, and you made my legs go weak."

He Yuzhu grinned and argued cheekily, "How can this be stopped so easily? Xiao'e, you have class to catch up on tomorrow morning."

Lou Xiao'e didn't say anything more. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing became slightly rapid, and her whole body felt weak as if her bones had been removed. She leaned into his arms, and before half a minute had passed, her breathing became even, and she fell into a deep sleep.

He Yuzhu herself was still full of energy, but considering that she had to get up early for class the next day, she ultimately didn't cause any more trouble—she suppressed her anger and decided to make up for it properly after she graduated.

Once the commotion inside the He family's house had completely subsided, the figure who had been sitting idly in the corner of the courtyard for a long time slowly leaned against the wall to stand up, vigorously rubbed his numb calves, and quietly slipped back into his own house.