Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

"No matter how brilliant a college student is, they'd never even get close to this seal. Today's scene is truly spectacular—if Dad hadn't come, he'd probably be kicking himself for days!"

He Yushui added with a grin. He Daqing could actually come, but the issue of his family background from years ago was like a thorn in his heart. Although the policy had been relaxed long ago, his legs still trembled slightly at the thought of meeting a row of leaders.

"Alright! Tonight at home—hot pot! Lamb slices, venison rolls, I'll personally make the sauce and broth, it'll sizzle and smell amazing!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the whole family got into the car arranged by Leader Wang, and the wheels slid swiftly towards the entrance of the alley.

"vomit--"

In the workshop, Qin Huairu was bending over, polishing the burrs off parts, when suddenly her throat tightened and she gagged. For the past two days, she'd been experiencing acid reflux and nausea—this feeling was all too familiar, like when she was pregnant with Banggeng. A sudden jolt went through her: Could it be… she was pregnant again?

Hearing the sound, Yi Zhonghai quickly approached, frowning as he asked, "Huairu? Didn't you like the breakfast?"

She raised her hand to wipe the corner of her mouth and forced a smile: "It's nothing, old man, it's just that my throat is tight... I'll go to the hospital to get it checked out after my shift ends."

She was too ashamed to talk about her pregnancy, so she only gave vague answers. But Yi Zhonghai was no fool. He frowned, and his mind was already clear—she had never made this mistake before, but now that she had, she probably couldn't escape it.

The thought made his chest burn: Qin Huairu is so fertile! If the child in her belly were of his Yi family blood... how wonderful that would be!

Jia Dongxu, with his limp, managed to get her pregnant again, so why is it that when it's his turn, he has no children?

Now that this trend has emerged, the little flame in his heart is burning even brighter—he originally hoped Jia Dongxu would support him in his old age, but that man can't even get out of bed properly now; as for his son... he's not much better. As for Yi Zhiliang? He's already made up his mind: send him away, the sooner the better.

"Take a break if you're tired, but don't let the work get delayed."

"Yes, I understand, sir."

Qin Huairu readily agreed and turned back to her work. But her days at the factory weren't easy—she benefited from Yi Zhonghai's influence, but also suffered because of him. Now, everyone in the factory knew about his scandalous past. An eighth-grade fitter, sent to aid the Northwest, was forced to accept a pay cut while remaining employed, simply because of his poor reputation in the factory. Currently, she was doing eighth-grade work but receiving fifth-grade wages.

She was implicated as well, and her situation became mediocre. Fortunately, she was pretty and had a good figure, so even though her reputation was somewhat obscure, people still surrounded her at the steel mill, offering her hot water and sugar cubes. She didn't refuse—these small favors could be exchanged for a few pounds of coarse grains and a few pieces of fat, enough to keep her family going for a couple more days.

Yi Zhonghai was busy filing away beside her, his workload no less than hers. He worked overtime every day, barely managing to finish on time.

However, a couple of days ago, some good news came his way: the relative of Yi Zhiliang that he had asked someone to look for had actually been found! He had indeed lived in the city back then, but his workplace had moved twice, and now he lived in the staff quarters of the machine repair factory on the outskirts of the city. It was a bit far, so he planned to ride his bike there to see him this weekend.

He Yuzhu's life returned to its leisurely pace. His job as the logistics director was quite relaxed—at most, he would make a few phone calls to arrange supplies; he no longer needed to interfere with the kitchen staff, and he didn't even need to monitor the cooking process.

In the morning, I patrol the area under my jurisdiction and handle a few trivial matters; at noon, I go home and grab a quick bite of hot food; in the afternoon, I spend time in the office, casually flipping through books and taking notes, and when the bell rings, I grab my bag and leave.

He occasionally used his skills, but most of the time, he deliberately slowed down. After six or seven years of tension, the string was about to snap; it was time to relax.

Having shaken off the formidable Jia and Yi families, the three years of hunger they remembered, when they were forced to eat tree bark, never came again; although the food supply was less than in previous years, the city of Beijing remained stable, shrinking to only 90% of its original level, without dropping any further.

He had inquired privately and learned that in the past two years, they had been using grain to pay off their elder brother's debts, with staple grains making up the majority and some by-products added, and the debts could be settled within two years.

Life is a bit tough, but it's nowhere near as bad as my previous life—back then, even he, the cook, was emaciated. Now, with meat in the bowl and a fire on the stove, I feel much more at ease.

Industry has also made a real leap forward. He could have gone even deeper, but in the past three years, he has spent less than two months with his family in total. Now, all he wants to do is sit by the window basking in the sun, hear his children call him "Dad," and watch Lou Xiao'e embroidering with her head down—he should rest with a clear conscience.

As soon as the bell rang to signal the end of the workday, he strolled out of the factory gate with his hands behind his back.

As he passed the cafeteria staff, who were carrying one or two aluminum lunchboxes, they immediately straightened their backs upon seeing him and greeted him in unison, "Hello, Director He!"

They were served communal meals, but they all said the same thing: "We took a taxi for lunch, and it was just two dishes of vegetables, no staple food!" The steel mill had built its own greenhouse, which was lush and green for three seasons of the year, with plenty of vegetables. The factory turned a blind eye to the extra meals prepared for the cooks.

But grain was a different story. The rationing was absolute, and the warehouse ledgers were more important than life itself; the purchasing department could only occasionally get a little extra from the plan, and they had to be extremely careful. Anyone who dared to cut back even half a pound of rice or flour would be summoned to the security office for questioning the next day.

He Yuzhu knew this rule perfectly well. He had already hinted to his old colleagues in the canteen: "Small perks are fine, but if anyone lets anything slip, they'd better report to the security office themselves—I won't cover for them."

He himself had no need for any of this—the food rations he had stockpiled in the Life Acceleration Space filled three rooms and were enough to last him for several years. Most of it was transported from Hong Kong Island, and its quality was even better than that of state-run grain stores.

Recently, Director Zhang from the Foreign Trade Department sent word through someone to ask him to make a trip to Hong Kong. He waved his hand and thanked him—there weren't any goods there that absolutely needed him, and his father had extensive connections, so one trip would suffice.

He Yuzhu pedaled his bicycle home, still thinking about what to cook on the stove tonight—he was off work tomorrow, and Yushui was going back to the courtyard house, so he had to prepare something decent.

The thin-crusted beef pie was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, bursting with oil with every bite; a pot of clear, piping hot chicken soup was simmered alongside, and the noodles were made as thin as dragon whiskers, chewy and smooth. Lou Xiao'e and Yu Shui ate with beaming smiles, licking the bowls clean.

The wheels had just rolled over the blue brick gate of the courtyard when Yu Shui saw her pushing her old Flying Pigeon bicycle inside. He Yuzhu opened her mouth to call out, but a glance out of the corner of her eye made her heart sink – three men were surrounding her bicycle, one pulling on the back rack, one blocking the front, and the other leaning against the handlebars, chatting with her with a grin.

He pushed off the bike and jumped off before it had even come to a complete stop, his voice booming like thunder: "Rain!"

Hearing the sound, Yu Shui turned around, and upon seeing her brother, her eyes lit up instantly, and she smiled, exclaiming, "Brother!"

She turned her face away, her voice turning cold, filled with undisguised annoyance: "My brother's here, stop bothering me."

He Yuzhu strode forward, his gaze sweeping over the three: they were all riding brand-new Phoenix brand motorcycles, dressed impeccably, wearing Shanghai brand watches on their wrists, and their hair was neatly combed, but the frivolous air between their brows and eyes made it clear that they were not students who would stay in school.

Just as Yu Shui was about to speak, the one in the middle wearing the navy blue jacket interrupted with a laugh: "Oh, big brother, you've come to pick up your little sister? We're Yu Shui's classmates, accompanying her..."

"Who asked you?" He Yuzhu interrupted abruptly, his voice like a knife scraping against iron. "Get lost! Who's your big brother? Take a good look at yourself in the mirror!"

He hated these pretentious scoundrels who tried to get close to him—calling someone "brother-in-law" without any basis, and putting on airs; seeing Yu Shui frowning and shrugging his shoulders, his anger flared up instantly.

"Try touching my sister again? Believe me or not, I'll break your elbow right here!" he roared, then kicked the man pulling on the back of the car, sending him sprawling backward. He reached out and grabbed the leader's neck like an iron clamp, pulling him hard in front of him, leaving the man's toes off the ground and almost unable to breathe.

He lowered his body, his nose almost touching the man's sweaty face: "Kid, I've seen plenty of these kinds of people—thinking they can do whatever they want just because their father is a cadre and their family has connections? Let me tell you the truth: if you mess with my family, even the Emperor himself can't protect you!"

Before he could finish speaking, another person rushed forward to try and break up the fight. He Yuzhu swung his leg backhand and sent the man flying three or four meters like a sack of potatoes. The man clutched his stomach, curled up on the ground, gasping for breath and groaning, unable to utter a complete sentence.

"Get out! If I see you blocking her at school or intercepting her on the street again, don't blame me for being ruthless—I can still get in and out of your university!"

He released his grip and shoved the man, who staggered back two steps and landed hard in a muddy ditch by the roadside.

"Get out of here! Or are you waiting to have your arm dismembered?"

The three men scrambled to their feet, covered in dust, and dragged the car to the base of a wall. Once they were a bit further away, the one who had been choked spat, his neck stiff, "Fine, this isn't over!"

"Still thinking about the future?" He Yuzhu sneered, casually leaned his bicycle against the wall, took a few steps over, and slapped the man twice across the face—"Slap! Slap!"—The man's left cheek immediately swelled up, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

He leaned closer, his voice so low that only the other person could hear: "If there weren't so many people around, you would have been lying down already."

This wasn't an exaggeration. Those Hong Kong triad bosses really did die at his hands—their chests caved in, ribs piercing their hearts, even their night watchmen couldn't escape. More than thirty of them, all gone within seven days. Back then, Lou's father urgently telegraphed him to return, fearing he would turn the entire Hong Kong underworld upside down.

He had never had any patience for these arrogant and domineering children from the compound who relied on their fathers' influence; let alone that they dared to follow Yu Shui all the way to his doorstep. If it weren't for the constant flow of people in the courtyard, and if Yu Shui hadn't been watching from behind, these three would have received far more than two slaps today.

"Brother! Forget it, let's go home!" Yu Shui quickly ran over, grabbed He Yuzhu's arm, and pulled him back forcefully.

Taking advantage of this lull, the three of them dared not linger any longer. They pushed their carts and ran off without uttering a single harsh word, leaving only the rustling sound of the wheels crushing over the gravel.