Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

After a moment of silence, He Yushui hesitated before speaking, "Brother, we still have some in the pot. It wouldn't hurt to share some with them, would it? I think Qin Huairu looks so pitiful..."

He Yuzhu put down his chopsticks, his gaze sharp as knives, and said, word by word:

"Rain, listen to me—don't sympathize with the Jia family, and don't be soft-hearted."

These kinds of people, if you save them once, they'll come back a second time; once they start bothering you, it's never-ending.

Remember, their suffering is not my debt.

"Brother, why won't you help Qin Huairu? You've helped quite a few people before, from Old Lady Li in the front yard, to Tiger's family in the middle garden, to Uncle Wang in the back yard—who hasn't taken a lunchbox from you? Wasn't it you who asked me to deliver them?"

He Yushui frowned, her tone full of confusion.

She saw that scene clearly—Qin Huairu stood at the door holding the child, her eyes almost crying. Why wasn't it worth lending a hand for a little bit of oil?

He Yuzhu put down his chopsticks, and the porcelain bowl slammed onto the table with a dull thud.

He looked up at his sister, his voice heavy as if a stone were pressing down on it: "Because others know Xie, but the Jia family—doesn't."

He paused, then whispered, "Rain, I'll say it again: stay away from the Jia family, don't talk to them, and don't be soft-hearted."

There are so many pitiful people in this world, can you save them all?

He knew perfectly well that he had to save every bit of energy now, and the more skill points he accumulated, the more space he could expand in the system.

If the Jia family, like a clingy pest, sticks to you, you won't be able to shake them off.

Besides, is the Jia family really that miserable? Jia Dongxu has passed the third-level fitter exam and has Yi Zhonghai protecting him, so having enough to eat is not a problem at all; nowadays, his private business has not been severely cracked down on, and he at least has a formal employee salary, living a more comfortable life than many people in the compound.

"Oh...I understand, bro."

Seeing his serious expression, He Yushui stopped trying to persuade him and quickened her pace as she ate her rice.

Outside, Qin Huairu remained frozen in place, her face numb from the cold wind.

Going back empty-handed? My mother-in-law would definitely tear the roof off.

What upset her even more was Sha Zhu—you've given away lunchboxes at least dozens of times over the years, so why won't you even let our Jia family in the door?

Just as I was lost in thought, I heard footsteps approaching.

Yi Zhonghai emerged from behind the screen wall and saw her standing alone. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Huairu? What's wrong? What are you doing standing here?"

Qin Huairu's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly forced a smile: "Uncle... it's nothing, it's just that we haven't had any meat lately, and Bang Geng smelled the aroma and wanted to borrow some, but Sha Zhu... wouldn't open the door."

"Hmph!" Yi Zhonghai's face immediately turned cold. "It's normal that he won't give it to me! That kid is selfish all the time, he only cares about himself."

For the past two years, he has been trying his best to isolate Sha Zhu in the courtyard, but the other party simply ignores him and doesn't say a word except for a few iron poles.

It made him feel like a clown performing a one-man show, incredibly frustrated.

He sneered and turned around, saying, "Come on, let's go to my house. There's half a sausage left; take it back and give it to the kids to eat."

"Thank you so much, sir! We really wouldn't have been able to get through this without your help..."

Qin Huairu's eyes welled up with tears, and she quickly followed him into the house.

Even if they didn't get any of Sha Zhu's meat, bringing back half a sausage would be enough.

When she came out of the hut, she was holding a small oil paper package in her hand. She said it was half a stick, but it was actually only about the length of her middle finger.

Back at the Jia family home, Jia Zhangshi opened the lid and her anger flared up instantly:

"Is this all you have? And it's just sausage? You're so stingy, are you trying to feed a beggar?"

"It wasn't Sha Zhu who gave it to me," Qin Huairu explained in a low voice. "He didn't even let me in. It was an old man who gave it to me."

Upon hearing this, Madam Jia exploded even more: "That foolish Zhu, destined to have no heir! He's so picky he'd never even get a drop of oil left under his fingernails! Just wait and see, when my eldest grandson becomes successful, let's see if he'll be envious!"

He cursed fiercely, but his hands moved with surprising speed—he snatched the bowl and snapped it into three pieces: the largest piece was given to Bang Geng, the smallest to Jia Dongxu, and as for Qin Huairu? He didn't even glance at her.

Qin Huairu stood by the stove, staring blankly at the bowl of gruel.

She went to great lengths to get the sausage, but in the end, she didn't even get to taste a crumb.

Silently, I picked up the bowl and swallowed the thin porridge with the pickled vegetables, my throat feeling like it had been rubbed with sandpaper.

Just as I was about to take out the half-eaten cornbread I had hidden to fill my stomach, I found that the bottom of the bowl was empty.

Looking up, I saw Jia Zhangshi engrossed in drinking her gruel, with crumbs still stuck to the corners of her mouth.

My heart sank.

Only a lazy woman like this could eat the food her daughter-in-law saved up.

……

It was time for everyone to wash their dishes, and the area around the sink gradually became lively.

But He Yuzhu was always the first to finish work.

The water splashed and the dishes flew around. His movements were so fast that they almost left afterimages—a swipe, a rinse, a wipe, the whole process was so smooth that the onlookers were amazed.

"Tsk, kids without fathers learn to be independent early. You can't find another one like Sha Zhu in the whole yard who's this good at it."

The whispers drifted away on the wind.

Meanwhile, He Yuzhu had already returned to his room, locked the door, sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and silently recited:

Open the system panel

Under the dim light, the data accumulated over two years slowly emerged.

[Host: He Yuzhu]

【技能：厨艺（二级：725160/800000）｜家务（五级：800/800）｜俄语（五级：800/800）｜英语（五级：800/800）｜钓鱼（四级：328/800）｜形意拳（四级：609/800）】

System space: 4 cubic meter

His cooking skills are about to reach level three, and his Xingyi Quan is almost at the level five threshold.

He Yuzhu hasn't made a move in the past two years, but he knows exactly what he's doing—to take someone down now, one punch is enough; his punches are like dragons, his blood and energy exploding through the air.

Since I reached level four in Xingyi Quan, my body feels like it has been completely rebuilt.

His strength increased dramatically; he could carry a sack weighing several hundred pounds with one hand and walk through the alley without even panting.

When practicing boxing, one's blood and qi surge throughout the body, and the meridians feel like boiling water, scalding and bubbling. One's mind is filled with afterimages of deadly moves, all of which are fierce battles of life and death.

He estimated that when he reached the maximum level in Xingyi Quan, he would undergo another complete transformation.

By then, it won't be surprising if one's bones and muscles become as strong as steel and one's five senses become supernatural.

The system space might even be able to be expanded. Right now, the four cubic meters are already packed full—there are over 400 kilograms of meat alone, with pork and duck meat stacked on top of each other, and over 100 kilograms of flour hidden in the corner.

These are all things he has quietly accumulated over the past two years.

Grain was easy to obtain, but he couldn't eat too much, so he only stockpiled about a hundred catties of refined flour.

Two more searches should be enough to get through the next three years of famine.

Fortunately, he had the identity of a chef to cover it up, and he would go out to buy ingredients every now and then, so no one would say anything.

The people at Fengzeyuan only thought he was skilled and had connections, little did they know that he had already secretly planned his future.

As for the fishing skill being stuck at level four, it's simply because there isn't enough time.

Just dealing with Li Huaide alone required frequent visits, but it became even more convenient after the public-private partnership—he was the director of the Ministry of Industry, and a single phone call to the public manager would immediately result in a smiling approval of a leave slip.

Over time, He Yuzhu became well-known in the government compound.

These days, you can cook a meal at someone's house for five yuan or more.

Actually, he originally wanted to charge three yuan, and his reasoning was sound: outside, catering costs eight to ten yuan, which is for three large tables; here, there's only one table, so three yuan is enough.

But those veteran cadres wouldn't have it, and they insisted on putting five yuan into his pocket, saying it was "hardship money".

Three pieces are fine too, the key is that it's easy—you work all afternoon, get paid, and have a relaxing afternoon off.

He wishes he could have this kind of good thing every day.

Unfortunately, Li Huaide only called him once every two weeks, and each time he looked resentful: "You're doing well, going out to make extra money, while I can't even get a hot meal!" He said this, but in his heart he wished he could transfer He Yuzhu to the canteen of the government office.

As dusk fell, the sky turned a deep orange-red.

He Yuzhu was squatting in the yard chopping vegetables, with wisps of smoke rising from the stove.

I didn't take any jobs today, and I had two leftover boxed lunches from the meal I brought back—one with meat and half with vegetables.

As I passed by the front yard, I saw Tiger, the son of Old Lady Li, squatting by the well, gulping down cold water. His little face was ashen, clearly very hungry.

Without saying a word, he handed over the box containing half meat: "Take it back and eat it. Don't drink cold water here and hurt your stomach."

Tiger stared wide-eyed, too afraid to accept it. It was only after his mother heard the commotion that he came out and gratefully accepted it.

This small act of kindness may seem insignificant, but in the cold and indifferent atmosphere of the tenement, it is a ray of warmth.

The remaining vegetarian dishes were probably not enough to satisfy He Yushui's cravings.

He sighed and took out two ounces of cured pork from the system space—it was glistening with oil, covered with an amber layer of fat, and could ooze out fragrant oil with the slightest tap.

Stir-fry it vigorously with chili peppers and cabbage in a wok. The spatula flies across the wok, making a sizzling sound, and the spicy aroma mixed with the smell of meat fat wafts straight into your nose.

One bite, and you'll forget what year it is.

Just as they were getting into the swing of things, a creaking sound came from the courtyard gate, and Xu Damao swaggered in pushing a brand-new bicycle, his face beaming with pride: "Shazhu! See that? I'm a full-fledged projectionist at the steel mill now! The mill even provides me with a bicycle, just for showing movies in the countryside!"

He patted the car seat as he spoke, as if afraid others wouldn't see it.

He Yuzhu didn't even lift his eyelids, his eyes flashing with a sharp edge: "Oh, an apprentice can brag like this? Twelve yuan a month, and the bicycle is even government-owned. You dare to ride it to a blind date? If someone reports you for embezzling public property, see how your master beats you."

His tone was nonchalant, but he was actually holding back seven-tenths of his strength.

If he revealed his status as a second-level cook, his monthly salary would be equivalent to Xu Damao's salary over twenty years.

Last year, after graduating from junior high school, I failed to get into a vocational high school. Thanks to Xu Fugui's connections, I was sent to a steel rolling mill as a projectionist apprentice. It sounds respectable, but it's really just a temporary job.

But there's more to this than meets the eye.

Xu Fugui played a shrewd card—once his three-year apprenticeship was over, he resigned and went to work at the film studio, handing the job over to his son, thus freeing up a formal worker position for the family.