Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

Her two sons were indeed not very respectful to He Daqing, but she could always coax them with gentle words and at night she would use some tricks to appease them, and the old man would turn a blind eye.

But she never expected that He Yuzhu would do things in such an unpredictable way—a single, seemingly innocuous sentence could send her into a panic, making her feel like she was about to lose her soul.

He Yuzhu didn't say another word.

Some things are most frightening when left unsaid.

He briefly mentioned the current situation of the courtyard house. The sky was already tinged with darkness, the evening clouds hung low, and the streetlights gradually came on.

"Let's go, Rainwater, to the guesthouse." He picked up his luggage and turned to leave.

"I know the way, I'll lead you there." He Daqing quickly followed, "so you won't get lost in the dark."

He Daqing jumped up from the kang (a heated brick bed) and was about to call his children to go out when a cough suddenly came from the inner room. It was light and airy, but it carried an undeniable meaning.

He understood immediately—the White Widow was unhappy.

He stood at the door and whispered, "I'll be back in a bit."

The sound wasn't loud, but it pierced the room like a nail, and no one uttered another word.

Then, he led He Yuzhu and He Yushui out the door.

The sky was still gray, the streets were deserted, and footsteps pattered on the stone pavement.

Along the way, He Daqing kept asking how the rain was going. When he heard that the family had an extra room and a radio, and that they had been eating meat every day recently, his brow relaxed and he shook his head and smiled.

"Great, your brother really put the family together."

There was relief in his words, but also a touch of indescribable bitterness.

Her son is capable, and her sister is well taken care of, but she herself is an only child who is still unmarried, which is a constant worry for her.

With letters of introduction from the street office and the steel rolling mill, He Yuzhu was able to easily book two rooms at the guesthouse, one for each of them, clean and tidy.

He Yushui had remained silent the whole way until her father repeatedly questioned her about her life, at which point she was suddenly jolted awake.

She suddenly realized that she hadn't thought much of it before, but when she compared herself to her classmates, she realized that what her brother had given her was already the best life she could have.

In a courtyard house, which family can afford to eat oil every day? Which family can afford to buy a radio so easily?

Before she could say anything, He Yuzhu pushed the door open and slammed it shut.

In those days, guesthouses didn't even need to lock their doors at night. Patrol officers in red armbands walked back and forth all night, making the security as secure as an iron barrel.

I slept soundly.

The next morning, He Daqing arrived on time and took the brother and sister out for breakfast.

The potstickers were burnt at the edges, the tofu pudding tasted fishy, ​​and the overall flavor was so bad it made you frown—it wasn't even a tenth as good as He Yuzhu's.

After finishing his meal, He Daqing turned around and went to the factory to ask for leave.

The factory canteen can still function without him, but the food will immediately turn into garbage.

Over the years, he has kept his skills tightly under control, relying entirely on feel for the heat and seasonings, never revealing a single detail, all for the sake of being irreplaceable.

As long as he's around, who dares to care if he's late or leaves early? Who dares to touch his lunchbox? The factory relies on him to keep the workers fed, so they have to indulge him.

After signing the leave slip, he took the two men for a stroll around Baoding.

They specifically targeted places selling local specialties, and when they saw donkey meat, they immediately weighed out two pounds, stuffed it into their heavy cloth bag, as if carrying a heavy sentiment.

Just before lunchtime, something he said to He Yushui in private, and the girl suddenly teared up. She walked up to He Yuzhu, bowed her head, and apologized, her tone so sincere that it didn't sound like a teenager's.

"Brother, I shouldn't have gotten too close to the Jia family. I'll never do it again."

He Yuzhu glanced at her but didn't say anything more.

He didn't care who apologized, he only cared about the bottom line—stay away from the Jia family, otherwise they would drag him into the quagmire sooner or later and strip him bare.

After finishing his meal, he picked up his bag and prepared to leave.

The train tickets were bought long ago, and the timing was perfect.

But He Yushui dawdled and refused to move.

I just saw my father once, and we didn't even have enough time to talk. How can I bear to part so soon?

He Yuzhu noticed this and casually interjected, "You should also go back to Beijing when you have time."

Is the White Widow worried? Then take her with you.

As for your pre-arranged request, they can't provide any evidence. If they did, they would have already confronted you.

He Daqing glared at him sharply: "What are you yelling about? That's your Aunt Bai!"

"Aunt?" He Yuzhu sneered, a sneer playing on his lips. "You left me and Yushui outside for most of the day, and you didn't even open a door. You deserve to be called 'Aunt'?"

These words were like a thorn, causing a dull ache in one's chest.

He will never again bear the cries he heard in the cold wind on that night in his past life.

The three chatted for a while longer, and finally He Daqing relented: "I'll go back home for the New Year..."

After he finished speaking, he personally saw the two of them onto the train.

The green train let out a long whistle and carried its passengers home into the distance.

Back in Beijing, He Yuzhu and He Yushui's return was quiet and didn't cause a ripple.

Although the people in the courtyard were curious about where they had gone, their relationship was usually distant, and no one was willing to take the initiative to ask.

Only the second aunt, the third aunt, and Jia Zhangshi kept pestering the Wang family, asking endlessly, "Where did He Yuzhu go? Why did he suddenly disappear?"

Madam Jia, ever the sarcastic one, said sarcastically, "He's probably fleeing to avoid punishment, isn't he? If you've done something wrong, you'll naturally hide away."

Before he could finish speaking, Old Wang shot him a glare and immediately turned hostile: "Why didn't you say anything when your daughter and son-in-law were stealing chickens and dogs? Now that it's my child's turn to gossip?"

The two families almost had a huge argument on the spot.

The entire courtyard was stunned—Old Wang actually got angry over outsiders? And towards a "respectable family" like the Jia family?

Yi Zhonghai rushed over to mediate the fight, but Old Wang didn't even lift an eyelid.

So what if you gave me three pounds of cornmeal? I'll just turn around and pay you back, then we're even.

If you want to build a reputation, don't try to associate it with mine.

Since that "poverty alleviation mutual aid" drama last month, the Wang family has been quietly kicked out of the circle.

Now, when I walk in the yard, the neighbors all walk around me.

But Lao Wang didn't care.

He was a widower and naturally didn't like socializing.

Nobody paid any attention to me before, but I still live my life as usual.

He Yuzhu was completely unaware of these matters.

He went back to the factory to cancel his leave and threw himself into his work.

Li Huaide was indeed reliable. Seventeen of the twenty support staff arrived within two days, and he immediately assigned them to three canteens, where they were mentored by experienced employees. The pressure on the kitchen staff was instantly relieved.

But he did not forget the Jia family.

That evening, he gathered the elderly staff from the three canteens together, his tone calm but ruthless:

"Keep tossing the food in the wok, Jia Dongxu."

"Let's starve him for a month and see if he can still act like a big shot."

Those who plot against him should be prepared to be bitten back.

All twenty people working in the greenhouse were in place. They were all experienced workers from rural cooperatives outside Beijing, used to working the land and wielding hoes more skillfully than chopsticks.

This kind of work is beyond the capabilities of those rough men in the city who only know how to carry sacks and move bricks—no matter how strong they are, if they don't understand the seasons or the soil, they still won't be able to grow vegetables.

More importantly, once you enter the steel rolling mill, you're guaranteed a secure job.

As long as you perform exceptionally well, you'll be promoted to a permanent position within three years, your rural household registration will be changed to urban, and your household registration will be directly transferred to the city! Who wouldn't give it their all?

The "Greenhouse Cultivation Manual" in He Yuzhu's hand is not just for show; it is a "farming bible" that he personally compiled after repeated experiments with the Vitality Space.

He led the group through the entire process, from setting up the shed to turning the soil, from seedling cultivation to composting, with a clarity as precise as adding salt when cooking.

With this "secret manual" in hand, ordinary people can also grow high-yield vegetables.

Greenhouses are springing up everywhere, and greenery is quietly emerging; a bumper harvest is only a matter of time.

With everyone in place, He Yuzhu could finally breathe a sigh of relief and become a true "hands-off manager."

His job is to set the direction and draw the red lines, so that the people below don't go astray. The rest is up to time and space.

However, even though he was relaxed, he didn't have a quiet life.

In the morning, I would stroll around the canteen like a supervisor, keeping an eye on the new logistics staff to make sure they didn't cause any trouble. If it was lunchtime and the leaders were hosting a meal, I would have to personally cook and show off my skills. In the afternoon, I would kick myself into the greenhouse area, scan around, and see if they were cutting corners or skipping steps.

……

He also specifically applied for a 200-square-meter plot of land for wheat and rice cultivation.

Once these vegetables have taken root, the hybrid rice varieties in the growing space should also be fully cultivated—by then, double-cropping rotation will no longer be a dream.

That day, He Yuzhu was taking a break in his office, flipping through a book on traditional Chinese medicine, when suddenly there were two light knocks on the door.

"Director He."

He knew it was Bai Danyu as soon as he heard the voice.

My heart skipped a beat—could it be that the thing I asked her for before...

Pushing open the door, Bai Danyu stood in the doorway, carrying an old shoulder bag, her expression somewhat tentative: "I've almost gathered what you wanted."

As she spoke, she handed over the bag.

Inside were packets of medicinal herbs carefully wrapped in kraft paper, along with a note with a line of words scrawled on it: "Manager Fang has Tiger Root."

The rest are all there.

He Yuzhu opened the two packets and glanced at them. A strong medicinal aroma wafted to his nose, and he immediately smiled—no wonder he came from the Ministry of Health, efficient and resourceful.

Bai Danyu's gaze swept over the medical books spread out on the table, and she couldn't help but ask, "Director He, you also know medicine? I asked my second brother what these are for, but he was being mysterious and wouldn't tell me..."

He Yuzhu's heart tightened, and he almost blurted out "Nothing's wrong." He quickly composed himself and grinned, "Hey, just thinking a little nonsense."

In my early years, I learned a few martial arts moves from a master and also got a few recipes for making medicinal liquor, which were said to strengthen muscles and bones.

I just wanted to try it out and see how it works, for the sake of health.

He paused for a moment, then immediately changed the subject: "By the way, how much do these things cost? I can't just take them for free."

As he spoke, he reached into his pocket to take out money.

Bai Danyu waved her hands repeatedly, "No need, no need! Just consider it a small favor I did for you..."

"That won't do!" He Yuzhu frowned. "These medicinal herbs are all precious. They cost at least tens of yuan. You can help me once or twice, but I can't be expected to owe you a favor and not pay you back. How am I supposed to ask for money in the future?"

Bai Danyu pursed her lips, then suddenly muttered softly, "Then... could I pay you back with the food I cook? Everyone in the family is craving your cooking, but you've been too busy lately and haven't had a chance to eat it..."