Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

"Dad... okay, I admit it."

Yan Jiecheng slumped his shoulders and agreed. He couldn't deny it—if he insisted, Yan Bugui could argue with him until dark, even bringing up the time he stole candy from the stove when he was a child.

"Okay, it makes things easier now that you've accepted it. The subway system in Beijing has long since been shut down, so if you want to collect scrap metal, you can only go to the countryside and cooperatives. The news hasn't spread yet, so you'd better set off as soon as possible, and be quick on your feet these next few days..."

The moment Yan Bugui picked up his abacus, he transformed into a shrewd old accountant: "Back then, a pound of iron cost five or six mao? That was the old calendar! Now, even one yuan and fifty cents is enough to make people scramble for it, two or three yuan is the real price. When you go to the countryside, buy it at two yuan and fifty cents, the sooner the better. Every day you're late, the price will go up by one cent..."

"Two yuan and fifty cents? Dad! That's scrap metal!"

"Nonsense! I don't know it's scrap metal? I'll give you a dollar, and you could run around the entire city of Beijing three times and still not bring back a pound!"

Yan Bugui was so heartbroken he kept clicking his tongue – if he had known things would turn out this way, he would have preferred to make more trips to the scrap yard and haggle with people at the door, rather than just stare blankly at them now.

The father and son spent the whole afternoon calculating on the octagonal table: Yan Bugui would first advance thirty yuan as principal, but Yan Jiecheng would have to repay forty yuan within six months—this was only after Yan Jiecheng slammed the table and shouted for half the night that the interest was reduced from fifty yuan.

Even bicycles have to be borrowed, costing one cent a day. Yan Jiecheng declared sternly: he wouldn't do the job without a bicycle! Walking into the village? His legs wouldn't break, but his back would; carrying dozens of kilograms of iron back? He might as well just lie down and be buried.

Yan Bugui didn't stop him, but frowned, pondering the cost of the vehicle—even a penny was too much! He had only bought the vehicle ten months ago; it was secondhand, but the wheels were brand new and the chain was shiny. Just thinking about Yan Jiecheng pedaling recklessly over those bumpy dirt roads and gravel slopes in the countryside made Yan Bugui's heart tighten.

But Yan Jiecheng was unyielding, sticking to his word for a mere penny, refusing to do anything more. He didn't have a proper job to begin with, earning a minimum of seven or eight yuan a month working three cents a day; with the principal and interest added on, his debt quickly ballooned to fifty yuan. As a day laborer, after deducting food expenses, he was lucky if he had three coins left at the end of the month.

Yan Bugui's calculations were so thorough that Yan Jiecheng's forehead was sweating, his face was flushed, and his voice was hoarse from arguing that they finally managed to reach an agreement.

However, in Nanluoguxiang, there weren't many families like the Yan family who were forced by He Yuzhu to scavenge for scrap metal. Everyone knew the situation: three or four kilograms was enough; who would really hand over all their pots and pans? That "Excellent Courtyard House" plaque hadn't been hung on the wall for years; they'd long since stopped caring about it.

But they were dreaming. He Yuzhu had an excellent memory and kept a close watch on every household. After two rounds of mobilization, not a single family escaped—iron nails, iron spoons, iron door knockers, even the thimble that the old lady kept at the bottom of her trunk were all taken away.

He Yuzhu himself couldn't afford to be ambiguous. Just as Yan Jiecheng said, he had too many hats on his head; without a leader, his words wouldn't carry weight. Adding to this the five jin of iron He Yushui donated at school, the He family managed to scrape together twenty jin, placing them among the top families in the entire Nanluoguxiang area.

Once the quantity is complete, I feel at ease.

Lou Xiao'e has just graduated, and it's time to keep the promise she made to her wife—to find her a proper job.

He Yuzhu chose a sunny day and rode his bicycle alone into the deep mountains outside the city. He didn't rest all day and hunted back three wild boars, three wolves, two rabbits, and two pheasants.

For He Yuzhu, hunting was never a matter of luck. Once he spotted the prey, that creature was doomed. In the mountains, he was a living devil; when a pack of black bears encountered him, all that remained was a bearskin draped over his shoulder. Following the hoofprints, droppings, and claw marks, he could always drag back a freshly caught trophy.

"The harvest has covered our costs; it's time to head home."

He gazed at the mountain of prey piled on the cart, thinking to himself—if he had to give a reason, he would have already pulled out a whole cow from his stash of belongings.

He took out an old handcart, tied it to the back rack of his bicycle, bundled up his prey, and steadily pulled it back to Beijing.

These days, meat is precious. Wild boar meat may be a bit rough, but for farming families, it's still a rare treat. As for that gamey smell? He Yuzhu knows best how to deal with it—salt curing, wine soaking, rubbing with wood ash, stewing with Sichuan peppercorns and star anise, he can suppress any smell.

He dragged his cart into town, attracting frequent stares from passersby. The entire cart was laden with bloody meat, weighing at least 800 pounds, making the axle creak. He was stopped and questioned by two patrolmen, but upon seeing the cart full of game and hearing that he was the canteen manager of the steel mill, they waved him off.

When He Yuzhu pushed the car into the courtyard of the Nanluoguxiang Subdistrict Office, the pile of meat startled several clerks, who stopped writing. Director Wang rushed over upon hearing the commotion, glanced at He Yuzhu and the car full of fresh meat, and paused for half a second before speaking: "Zhuzi, what are you doing?"

"Director Wang, I went for a walk in the mountains today and brought some back with me," He Yuzhu said with a smile. "You can decide how to distribute them. Give more to the poor households and families of martyrs who are short of meat; keep the rabbits and pheasants for my family; the pigs and wolves are up to you."

Upon hearing this, Director Wang's eyelids twitched—the wild rabbits and pheasants together weighed less than fifteen pounds, but the three wild boars and three wolves, cleaned of meat, would weigh around five hundred pounds. On the black market, wild boar meat was cheaper, starting at six or seven mao per pound; including the offal and bones, this pile of goods was worth more than three hundred, almost four hundred yuan.

Meat ration coupons are hard to come by these days; even four hundred yuan might not get you this much meat. She wanted to refuse, but couldn't bear to; she wanted to accept, but was afraid of what might happen behind her back.

"Zhu Zi, come sit in my room for a while. Old Li, bring the car in first."

Director Wang led He Yuzhu into his office, poured him a strong cup of tea, placed it beside him, leaned forward, and lowered his voice: "Yuzhu, tell me the truth, sending so much meat, is it... something you need my help with?"

He Yuzhu immediately gave a thumbs up and grinned, "Director Wang, you're really something! You have such sharp eyes—no wonder you're the pillar of this old neighborhood. My little tricks are like paper lanterns in front of you, you can see right through them!"

Director Wang smiled so broadly that wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes: "Stop with the smooth talk! Get to the point. As long as it doesn't cross the line, I'll lend a hand if I can."

"Hey, even if we don't arrange for it, I plan to give some of this meat to families in need and families of martyrs and soldiers. There are three mouths to feed in my family; how can we possibly eat so much?"

He Yuzhu waved his hand and leaned closer with a smile: "Director Wang, my wife Xiao'e graduated from high school, right? I wanted to ask you to inquire whether the subdistrict office needs any temporary helpers right now. We don't need her to have a stable job, just let her learn, run errands, broaden her horizons, and gain some confidence in handling matters."

"Temporary worker..."

Director Wang pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly, before speaking: "There is a vacancy—the mediation team is short-staffed. Aunt Zhang is getting old, and there's no one to work with her. If you trust her, let Xiao'e work with her for now. She'll have a lot to do every day, handling all sorts of trivial matters and family squabbles; but this kind of work… Zhu Zi, you know what I mean."

He Yuzhu knew perfectly well: mediating this mess was a lose-lose situation, and nine times out of ten, neither side would benefit. The neighbors dared not confront him openly because of the street office's reputation, but they still had to vent their anger—Aunt Zhang had worked for half her life, who would dare to give her the cold shoulder? In the end, wouldn't it be the young girl who had just joined the family who would get scolded and bullied?

If a young wife with no experience or prestige tries to mediate a fight, the other party might not even give her a second glance.

He just smiled and said, "It's alright, Director Wang. Xiao'e is a steady person who doesn't cause trouble but isn't afraid of it either. Besides, with me backing her up, anyone who tries to take advantage of her will have to think twice."

"Alright! Since you've made up your mind, bring her over the day after tomorrow to complete the formalities. It'll be sixteen yuan a month, meal tickets are on her own, and Aunt Zhang will personally teach her the other rules on her first day."

Director Wang patted him on the shoulder, his tone honest—sixteen yuan isn't a small amount; many day laborers only manage to earn ten yuan a month. But compared to permanent employees, temporary positions are like drifting duckweed: they can be terminated at any time, wages remain unchanged, and labor protection benefits are far inferior. Even so, the line of people wanting these positions stretches to the end of the alley.

"Zhu Zi, when you're dividing the meat later, could you take some back with you?"

He Yuzhu waved his hands repeatedly: "No, no, the wild rabbit and pheasant are enough for me to stew for two meals! You can divide the rest according to the rules, I won't get involved."

Director Wang nodded: "Okay! The subdistrict office will keep 20 jin of grain for the relief efforts, and the rest will be distributed to the two subdistricts on the left and right—they also have quite a few impoverished households and families of martyrs there."

He Yuzhu gave a thumbs up again: "Tsk tsk, you have such a broad perspective! Anyone else would have already jumped into their own kitchen."

"Get lost! You're just making fun of me!"

Director Wang smiled and waved, and the two left the office one after the other.

He Yuzhu didn't stay to watch the meat being divided; he picked up the game and turned to leave.

Tonight he planned to make spicy rabbit and pheasant stew with wild mushrooms—Lou Xiao'e loves spicy food, and He Yushui loves soup, so these two dishes would surely make them beam with joy; the remaining two game pieces would be sent to Chen Xueru in a couple of days. Her belly was getting bigger every day, and she had already asked the neighborhood committee for a long leave, ostensibly to go back to her hometown to visit relatives.

He Yuzhu had secretly visited the countryside twice. He knew the area well, the people were peaceful, and Chen's mother was looking after him, so he felt at ease. However, he always took a detour, afraid of being caught by Chen's mother and being bombarded with questions.

The dinner table was steaming hot. He Yuzhu had just put down his spatula when he started talking about the neighborhood committee. Lou Xiao'e almost dropped her chopsticks when she heard this. She was so happy that she nearly jumped off her chair and kept shouting that she wanted to hug him.

Most of her classmates who didn't get into university are still idle at home; these days, high school graduates aren't as sought after as vocational school graduates. Finding a job requires queuing up, applying, and waiting for quotas, a process as slow as brewing traditional Chinese medicine. Yan Jiecheng from the front yard graduated from high school several years ago and is still wandering around at home.

More than twenty days have passed in the blink of an eye, and the end of the month is just around the corner.

The steel rolling mill has been unusually quiet lately. It has only had special meals three times in the past month. The rest of the time, he just patrols the area, keeping an eye on the quality of the "hot water heater" and making sure it is up to standard.

In his spare time, he delved into the intricacies of steelmaking, and within twenty days, he had leveled up his skills to level three. But to go further, simply practicing blindly wasn't enough; he needed hands-on experience and deep thinking.