Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

When the furniture factory workers hauled truckloads of brand-new tables, chairs, cabinets, and beds into the courtyard, the neighbors gathered around, clicking their tongues in amazement. After understanding the reason, their envy intensified—a thin piece of paper had been exchanged for four or five new pieces of furniture. Outsiders couldn't see the weight of that picture, but the items right in front of them were substantial and weighty: fine wood grain, rounded edges, and glossy paint. A single piece could easily be worth twenty or thirty yuan.

Once all the new furniture was in place and the workers left, He Yuzhu casually moved all the old furniture to Old Wang's house.

Old Wang's house was small and couldn't hold so many items. After expressing his gratitude profusely, he helped Lou Xiao'e sell the extra items at a discount, giving her all the money.

"Yuzhu, I have some good news for you today."

Lou Xiao'e pushed the stroller into the house. The two slanted wooden planks at the door were specially nailed on by He Yuzhu, and the stroller slid in with a gentle touch from the wheels.

"Director Wang just told me that our subdistrict office has done a solid job, and the district has studied it and is preparing to expand the jurisdiction to the surrounding areas. The Nanluoguxiang area will definitely be expanded in the future, and there is a high probability that the position will be filled by someone who gets a permanent position. Director Wang said that I was the first person he thought of."

Upon hearing this, He Yuzhu's eyes lit up: "You're really something, Xiao'e! It's only been a little over a year, and you're already on the verge of becoming a full-fledged employee..."

Although Lou Xiao'e had only been on the job for a short time, she was very capable. Not to mention anything else, she donated all of her salary for more than 20 months, totaling nearly 400 yuan. In addition, He Yuzhu gave her several suggestions and helped her out, which made the street office stand out in the district several times. Naturally, her name was also credited for her achievements.

It's a skill for a wife to benefit from her husband's success. Who told Lou Xiao'e to be so lucky to have a husband who is both strong-willed and protective of his own? Others may be envious, but there's nothing they can do—their own husbands don't have He Yuzhu's cleverness or his drive.

"Well, once he's a full-time employee, the work will be pretty much the same. At most, I'll just have to take on a temporary worker. But he won't be able to relax until he's carrying his backpack."

Lou Xiao'e looked down at He Xiao, who was dozing off, gently brushed her son's nose with her fingertip, then turned around and sat down at the table to eat.

After He Yushui entered high school, she didn't go home as often. Although she had a bicycle, it was still a lot of work to go back and forth. When she was tired, she would just grab a bite at the school cafeteria; she would only ride back home when she was craving something, making sure the stove was burning brightly and the food smelled delicious.

During meals, the two often talked about Lou's parents. The elderly couple had kept in touch with each other in Hong Kong, writing one letter a month, relayed through the Foreign Affairs Bureau; Lou Xiao'e also often took photos of He Xiao, which she would then send over after they were developed. The couple's replies were full of joy, and they even asked the Foreign Affairs Bureau to send back many small clothes, blankets, and rattles.

The next day, after Lou Xiao'e pushed He Xiao out to work, He Yuzhu got on his bicycle and left.

When the weather is fine, he never picks or drops off the car—this is a rule set by Lou Xiao'e; only when it rains will he hold an umbrella and follow beside the car, never leaving its side.

Upon arriving at the factory, he started work early as usual.

In less than an hour, all the work for the day was done efficiently. The logistics director's job wasn't exactly trivial: he strolled around and glanced at the purchasing department, warehouse, greenhouse, and canteen, checking what needed to be checked and asking what needed to be asked, and there was nothing else waiting for him.

He wondered to himself: Why was Li Huaide always so busy before? He had piles of documents that he couldn't finish approving; but when it was his turn to sit in this position, he was so idle that he could count the dust on the window frame.

Just as I was holding an enamel mug, drinking tea and flipping through the newspaper, there were a few light knocks on the door.

"Come in."

As soon as he finished speaking, the door was pushed open, and several people filed in. Leading them were Factory Director Yang and Zhang Tianyang from the Foreign Affairs Bureau. He Yuzhu didn't know any of the other three.

He quickly stood up: "Director Yang, Director Zhang, what brings you here...?"

"Director He, these are the people who came to see you. I was just passing by and opened the door for them." Factory Director Yang waved his hand with a smile.

Director Zhang nodded in agreement, "Director He, these three are academicians from the Chinese Academy of Sciences. They've come specifically to consult with you on some matters. Is this convenient for you?"

Besides an open newspaper, there were several old books on microelectronics scattered on the table. The pages were curled and the corners of the books were slightly upturned—they were obviously just casually placed there, exuding a leisurely and unhurried air.

"Of course it's convenient. Shall we go to the conference room?"

Just as Director Yang opened his mouth, the elderly gentleman in a Zhongshan suit and glasses behind him raised his hand and smiled, "No need to move, this place is fine. Director He, I hope you don't mind if I take a few minutes?"

"Hey, what are you saying—I just put down my pen and am free right now, feel free to ask me anything."

He Yuzhu responded loudly, then casually folded the newspaper and stuffed it into the drawer.

Seeing this, the old man smiled and turned to Director Yang and Director Zhang, saying, "Thank you both for your hard work. We'd like to have a private talk with Director He."

"Director He, my surname is Lu, this gentleman next to me is surnamed Zhu, and this gentleman is surnamed Li. We've come today to ask you a few questions."

Before he finished speaking, Academician Lu had already pulled a blueprint out of his canvas bag and handed it to He Yuzhu with both hands.

"Director He, please keep your word about what you saw today. Director Zhang will explain the relevant confidentiality requirements to you later."

"I understand, I understand. This... should be the architecture diagram of a transistor computer, right?"

These transistors are densely packed together, more than twice the number used in the radar I handled before, but the magnetic core structure is arranged so awkwardly—it's like forcibly stuffing a tenon into a threaded hole...

He Yuzhu frowned after glancing at the blueprints. He was right; what Academician Lu had handed him was indeed the initial design of China's first transistor computer, and the impetus for this research really did stem from a few casual remarks he had made a while ago.

Although it has been released ahead of schedule, there are many flaws in the drawings: the wiring is messy, the heat dissipation is insufficient, and the driver matching is awkward, revealing the rushed pace of the project.

Upon hearing this, Academician Lu was startled and his mind lit up – without asking any further questions, he was certain that Director He was no ordinary person.

Looking around the office again: the bookshelves are piled with thick stacks of professional books, and even the ones spread out next to He Yuzhu are hardcore textbooks on microelectronic devices and pulse circuits; not to mention that they can spot the fatal flaws in the magnetic core layout at a glance - people who have never actually done circuit debugging or soldered hundreds or thousands of nodes by hand simply cannot see the secret.

The three were stuck on a crucial step: the logic stability of the transistor computer was always unstable. They originally planned to ask He Yuzhu to make connections and consult with the foreign experts who had assisted in the radar project years ago. If that didn't work, they hoped that he would fly there himself.

But He Yuzhu's words hit the nail on the head, which made Academician Lu feel a surge of warmth in his heart. Before he could finish speaking, he had already sat up straight.

"Director He, what makes you so certain that something is wrong here?"

"The voltage supply difference will become unbalanced, and the transistors will decay faster under continuous high temperature, cutting their lifespan in half—the whole machine will break down in less than six months."

He Yuzhu pointed to several densely wired areas on the drawing, speaking slowly and deliberately, each word landing with conviction. Although he hadn't specialized in computer architecture, his skills in circuit analysis, thermal management, and component selection had long been honed to the point of muscle memory. He could see the drawing as if it were the real thing, and problems naturally had nowhere to hide.

"Then... how should it be changed?"

"Start from scratch. At the very least, we must adhere to the three ironclad rules of transistors: voltage margin, junction temperature limit, and switching response time. Otherwise..."

"Director He, and this place too, we've been thinking about it for days..."

"This is not the same thing as before—the printed circuit board traces are too haphazard. It looks like it can work, but it's actually like a 'good enough' showroom. Instead of patching it up, we should reorganize the underlying circuit topology."

Academician Lu raised seven or eight questions in succession, and He Yuzhu, holding a pencil, explained while pointing, almost without pausing. The skill tree he had accumulated over the years had long since grown into a lush tree, and now, faced with this immature and reckless design draft, his mouth moved faster than his brain, dissecting and commenting on one point after another.

As they talked, it actually took on the rhythm of a class; Academician Lu listened intently, nodding frequently; the other two academicians did not interrupt, but quietly strolled to the bookshelf, their fingertips brushing against the spines of the rows of books—there were indeed a few Marxist-Leninist works, but the thin volumes were sandwiched in the middle, inconspicuous.

More often, there are hardcore manuals with gold-embossed titles: "Principles of Medical Electronic Instruments", "Practical Operation of Low-Voltage Power Distribution Systems", "Illustrated Explanation of Turning, Milling, Planing and Grinding Processes"... Spanning more than ten trades, the pages are curled and frayed at the edges, and densely annotated, clearly not just for show.

Before they arrived, they went through He Yuzhu's file: He learned electrical and mechanical design very quickly, taught by the engineers from the White Bear Kingdom before they left; even with small items like "electric kettles," which others only thought were just wires wrapped around to boil water, he was able to figure out the relationship between resistivity, power density, and safety margin.

"By the way, Academician Lu, did you and your colleagues call me about these blueprints?"

"That's exactly why."

Academician Lu leaned forward slightly: "We were instructed from above that transistor technology was the 'seed' you brought back. This time we encountered a tough problem, and we originally wanted to ask you to act as a bridge to consult foreign experts, but after hearing what you just said... we feel that Director He, you yourself are a living encyclopedia."

Before they arrived, He Yuzhu was known to others as a culinary expert who could cook canteen dishes to Michelin standards; but when they pushed open the door, all three of them were stunned—whose master chef's desk was piled high with "Introduction to Semiconductor Physics," with hand-drawn field-effect transistor characteristic curves tucked into the creases of the pages?

Even if you're just putting on an act, you should at least pick out a few copies of "Dialectical Materialism" to get by.

The following questions and answers made them even more uneasy: the magnetic core was the result of repeated deductions by Academician Lu and several doctoral students from the Industrial College, but due to tight deadlines and high testing costs, the actual testing phase was simply skipped. Thinking about it calmly now, the temperature drift issue pointed out by He Yuzhu really seemed like a key, clicking open a locked loophole in their thinking.

"Director He, we sincerely invite you to join our research team and work together to develop the transistor computer!"

Academician Lu blurted out, surprising even himself—his original thought of "asking someone to inquire" had long been forgotten.