60s: I have a store

Chapter 598 Installation
As dusk began to fall, the incandescent light bulbs in Zhou Yimin's office emitted a slight hum, casting flickering shadows on the wall.

As the five section chiefs entered the office one by one, the rustling sound of their leather shoes scraping against the cement floor broke the silence.

"Section Chief Zhou!" Zhou Dazhong spoke first, a corner of a blueprint peeking out from his work clothes pocket, a habitual smile on his face.

The other four followed closely behind. Some were nervously clutching their helmets, while others subconsciously straightened their crooked ties. Their eyes all fell on Zhou Yimin behind the desk.

Zhou Yimin tapped his fingertips lightly: "I called everyone here today because I have some things to take care of these few days and I won't be at the steel plant."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the confusion on everyone's faces. "If it's a small matter that you can handle, then you can deal with it as you see fit. If you can't, then use the phone in my office to contact me!"

"Understood!" The five people's unanimous reply echoed in the small office.

"Any difficulties you've been facing lately that you need help with?" Zhou Yimin rested his chin on his interlaced fingers. The cold wind outside the window rattled the glass, casting his shadow on the procurement progress chart on the wall.

All five men shook their heads in unison. Zhou Dazhong grinned and said, "With the plan left by Section Chief Zhou, we can overcome even the most difficult hurdles!"

This remark drew agreement from everyone, and deliberately lighthearted laughter filled the office.

After the meeting, in the corridor, once the footsteps of the other four people had completely faded at the end of the corridor, Zhou Yimin reached out and slightly closed the office door, the old creaking of the metal hinges.

The radiator in the corner suddenly made a loud "clang," startling Zhou Dazhong, who was organizing the drawings. His hand trembled, and his pencil drew a crooked arc on the paper.

"Dazhong, I'm counting on you while I'm gone." As Zhou Yimin turned around, the lamplight cast dark shadows under his eyes. "If anything urgent happens, just call the village, and you'll be notified!"

Zhou Dazhong immediately assured him, "Uncle Sixteen, don't worry, I know what to do!"

Suddenly, the figure of a night shift worker flashed past the window, and the beam of a flashlight swept across the office glass, casting fleeting spots of light on the two men's faces.

Zhou Yimin stared at his nephew's tanned face, his gaze then shifting to the newly patched cuffs of his work clothes.

The stitches were fine and neat, clearly the work of my aunt. "Dazhong, has anything gone wrong with the stock lately?"

He picked up the enamel mug and took a sip of cold tea, the tea leaves swirling at the bottom of the cup.

"Uncle Sixteen, ever since we used the method you mentioned, there haven't been any problems with the stock." Zhou Dazhong grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth.

After dealing with one troublemaker, the other one didn't dare to show its face, fearing that Zhou Dazhong would find some leverage against it or make things difficult for it.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Yimin felt that Zhou Dazhong was quite capable. The two chatted for a while longer, but seeing that it was getting late, they stopped talking.

Zhou Yimin still needs to pick up some things later.

Dusk, like cotton wool mixed with coal ash, pressed heavily on the red brick walls of the steel plant. Zhou Yimin walked towards the warehouse, his feet sinking into the coal slag, the note approved by Director Hu in his work clothes pocket damp from his body heat.

The tin gate was ajar, and the dim yellow light of a kerosene lamp peeked out from the crack, carrying with it the smell of rust and machine oil.

"Section Chief Zhou, what brings you here?" Old Li, the administrator, looked up from behind the ledger, his reading glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose.

The abacus beads in front of him were still swaying slightly, indicating that he had just completed a transaction.

On a pile of wooden crates in the corner, several discarded bearings gleamed coldly.

"Come and collect something." Zhou Yimin took out a piece of paper folded into four sections, the edges of which were worn rough.

When Old Li took it, his fingertips touched the raised stamp on the paper. By the light of the kerosene lamp, he carefully examined Director Hu's crooked signature. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Okay, Section Chief Zhou, please wait a moment!"

The creaking sound of sliding wooden planks came from deep inside the warehouse, mixed with Old Li's indistinct mutterings.

Five minutes later, the sound of the cart wheels rolling over the gravel ground grew louder as it approached, and the waterproof cloth covering the solar water heater fluttered in the wind.

The metal surface of the heat collection tubes reflected the glow of the kerosene lamp, casting tiny, scattered spots of light on the ground.

"It's really heavy!" Old Li wiped the sweat from his forehead, dark sweat stains appearing on the back of his work clothes.

He caught a glimpse of Zhou Yimin taking out a cigarette pack, and his eyes suddenly widened—it was a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes with gold patterns, a pack that even his own boss couldn't bear to smoke in the years of scarcity.

"Master Li, this is a small token of my appreciation." Zhou Yimin stuffed the cigarette into the other man's hand, the cigarette pack making a crisp rustling sound.

Old Li's Adam's apple bobbed violently, his rough fingers tracing the gilded lettering on the cigarette pack as if he had touched some treasure: "This is unacceptable! This is nothing more than..."

Before he could finish speaking, Zhou Yimin had already forcibly stuffed the cigarette into his work clothes pocket.

The cold wind whipped up coal dust from the ground, which then splattered onto their faces.

As if he had made a huge decision, Old Li turned around and grabbed the rope: "I'll tie it tight for you!"

He tiptoed onto the back of the motorcycle, his cracked fingers deftly tying knots, the rope making a soft sound as it rubbed against the metal.

As the last knot was fastened, he patted Zhou Yimin on the shoulder: "Take it easy on the road!"

Zhou Yimin straddled the motorcycle, the roar of the engine startling the sparrows under the eaves.

In the rearview mirror, Old Li was still standing at the warehouse entrance, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, his figure gradually shrinking into a small black dot, blending into a blurry silhouette with the huge steel plant outline behind him.

As dusk crept over the eaves of the courtyard house, Zhou Yimin pushed a cart loaded with solar water heaters with difficulty as it turned into the alley.

The sheet metal-clad solar collector tubes gleamed coldly in the setting sun, immediately attracting the attention of Aunt Zhang, who was picking vegetables at the gate of her courtyard.

As she straightened up, a few vegetable leaves were still stuck to her apron: "Yimin, what is that thing you're pushing? It's a metal lump that reflects light!"

This inquiry sounded like a rallying cry.

Grandpa Zhao, who was lighting the coal stove, put down the fire tongs, and his little granddaughter, wearing a red scarf, skipped and jumped behind him.

Aunt Wang, who was hanging clothes to dry, leaned out, and the bed sheet on the bamboo pole fluttered in the wind. Even the sound of chess pieces clashing under the usually silent old locust tree came to an abrupt halt.

A dozen pairs of eyes were fixed on the novel items on the cart, and a cacophony of voices immediately erupted.

"Can this stuff be eaten?" Old Sun squinted and leaned closer, his pipe almost poking the heat collector tube.

"Don't touch it!" Zhou Yimin reached out to protect the equipment. "This is a solar water heater produced by the steel plant!" He patted the cool metal casing. "It can heat water as long as there is sunshine. It doesn't need coal or electricity. Just put it on the roof and you can take a hot shower anytime."

These words were like a pebble thrown into a deep pool.

Aunt Zhang's rolling pin stopped in mid-air, and Uncle Zhao's action of puffing on his pipe also paused.

You should know that in the days when supplies were rationed, coal briquettes were more precious than meat coupons.

Aunt Wang leaned out, her voice brimming with excitement: "Yimin, think of how many coal coupons that will save!"

A chorus of agreement immediately rose from the crowd; some were counting on their fingers, while others were muttering about how much coal they needed.

"Yimin, why did you install it here in the courtyard?" someone in the back row of the crowd suddenly asked.

In an instant, all eyes were focused on Zhou Yimin.

Old Sun tapped his pipe on the sole of his shoe, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Aunt Zhang unconsciously tightened her grip on her apron, as if she could already see the steam rising from her own water tank.

Zhou Yimin, of course, understood those burning gazes.

He touched the equipment on the cart, remembering the cotton quilts drying on the adobe house in his hometown, and his grandmother's frugal manner of never adding too many coal briquettes: "It's not stored in the courtyard house, but is planned to be taken back to my hometown for my grandparents to use. I don't need many by myself!"

These words caused the air to suddenly fall silent. Aunt Zhang sighed softly, and Uncle Zhao relit his pipe, the embers flickering in the twilight.

A few scattered exclamations of praise rang out from the crowd: "Yimin is such a filial son."

"The old man is so lucky!"

But his voice betrayed his disappointment.

Zhou Yimin pushed the cart toward his house, and behind him came the sound of footsteps dispersing in twos and threes, occasionally mixed with regretful whispers.

When the rooster crowed for the first time, Zhou Yimin got up, opened the store, and bought the products on sale for the day.

Then he put on his coat and went out.

He reached out and brushed away the thin layer of ice that had formed on the solar water heater. The metal collector tubes gleamed coldly in the dim morning light, as if still carrying the chill of the warehouse from the previous night.

The water heater in the truck bed was tightly bound with three layers of thick hemp rope, and the outermost layer was wrapped with a waterproof tarpaulin that had been bought on credit from the supply and marketing cooperative.
Zhou Yimin straddled the motorcycle, the old engine sputtering and vibrating, making the house keys in his work clothes pocket jingle.

The old locust tree at the entrance of the alley was hanging with icicles, its branches colliding with each other in the wind, making a soft, clear sound, as if it were seeing him off.

A thin layer of frost covered the asphalt road leading out of the city, and the wheels made a crunching sound as they rolled over it.

The eastern horizon was turning a pale white, and the distant villages were still shrouded in the gray-blue morning mist. Zhou Yimin hunched his shoulders, his fingertips, which couldn't be covered by his cotton gloves, were already numb with cold.

But when I thought of my grandfather coughing incessantly in the mud-brick house in my hometown, and my grandmother who always saved the hot water for him to wash his face, I unconsciously twisted the accelerator even tighter.

When I passed by the Hongxing Supply and Marketing Cooperative, the morning fog was thick.

Old Wang, who was behind the counter, had just removed the door panel when he saw Zhou Yimin driving by in a huge vehicle. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Yimin, what kind of treasure are you carrying?"

The words were torn to shreds by the howling north wind.

Zhou Yimin raised his hand in greeting, but did not slow down—he had to get home before noon so that the solar water heater could be installed while the sun was at its strongest.

The motorcycle turned onto the dirt road leading to Zhoujiazhuang, and the dust kicked up by the wheels, mixed with frost, clung to his trouser legs.

As the morning mist gradually dissipated and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, Zhou Yimin heard the crowing of roosters echoing throughout the village.

He stepped on the gas, and the white mist from the motorcycle's exhaust pipe blended with the morning fog, carrying him and the solar water heater that embodied countless efforts, heading towards the village where smoke was beginning to rise from the chimneys.

As soon as Zhou Yimin's motorcycle rolled over the stone slab bridge at the entrance of Zhoujiazhuang Village, the roar of its exhaust pipe startled the sparrows in the locust tree.

The cart carrying the solar water heater bumped along the dirt road, the metal collector tubes refracting tiny rays of light, like a handful of stars, instantly attracting Xiulan, who was drawing water from the well.

With a tremor of her hand, the wooden bucket crashed back onto the water with a "thud," the splashing water glistening in the morning light.

"Sixteenth Uncle! What is this iron lump?" Xiulan shouted at the top of her lungs, her apron still covered with unwashed vegetable leaves.

These words were like the sound of a gong, and Aunt Li, who was feeding the chickens, Uncle Zhao, who was carrying a hoe to the field, and even the old men who were squatting by the wall sunbathing, all slowly gathered around with their canes.

The children, like a flock of startled sparrows, darted out from the alleyways, and a few of the bolder boys were already tiptoeing to touch the waterproof tarpaulin on the cart.

"Don't touch anything!" Zhou Yimin jumped off the car, his work pants still covered in mud from the road at the knees.

Zhou Yimin said, "This is a solar water heater; it can heat water as long as there is sunshine!"

These words caused the air to suddenly become quiet for a moment.

Uncle Zhao scratched the back of his head, revealing his chapped forehead under his straw hat: "No firewood? That would save so much wheat straw?"

A murmur immediately arose from the crowd. Some people leaned closer and squinted to examine it, while others reached out and gently tapped the water tank, making a dull "thump-thump" sound.

Zhou Daqiang's wife squeezed to the front row, almost dropping the baby she was holding: "Yimin, can this thing be used to bathe the baby?"

The sun gradually became scorching, making Zhou Yimin's neck feel hot.

To avoid wasting time, he said goodbye to everyone and continued driving home.

I arrived home in less than five minutes and parked the motorcycle.

Pushing open the mottled wooden door, a few stubborn withered leaves still clung to the old jujube tree in the yard.

Zhou Yimin leaned the cart against the wall, and the sound of metal scraping against the ground startled his grandmother, who was feeding the chickens.

The old man's blue apron was stained with corn kernels. When he saw the enormous thing his son had brought back, his cloudy eyes widened instantly: "What... what is this?"

"Grandma, this is a solar water heater!" Zhou Yimin, without even wiping his sweat, rummaged through the truck bed and pulled out a toolbox.

The wrench, measuring tape, and expansion bolts gleamed coldly in the sunlight. He looked up at the roof of the main room—a few foxtail grasses grew in the gaps between the blue tiles, swaying gently in the breeze.

Grandpa leaned on his jujube wood cane and came closer, his pipe tapping crisply against the sole of his shoe: "You're going to install it on the roof? Will it be sturdy?"

As Zhou Yimin climbed onto the roof, his overalls trousers rustled from being rubbed against the tiles.

He unfolded the blueprints and laid them on the tiles, using two blue bricks to hold down the corners, squinting as he checked the dimensions.

The winter sun wasn't scorching, but it still made the back of my neck feel hot.

"Grandma, pass me the measuring tape!" he shouted into the yard, and quickly caught the tool his grandmother tossed up. The red measuring tape drew an arc in the air.

Drilling for positioning is the most laborious task.

Zhou Yimin missed the power tools of later generations. If there were power tools, he wouldn't have to rely entirely on manpower and just keep tightening the screws with a screwdriver.

Amidst the flying debris, he glimpsed his grandmother standing on tiptoe in the yard, peering out, while his grandfather squatted against the wall, wiping each of the freshly unpacked screws one by one.

Assembling the brackets is the most challenging part, requiring the most patience. The angle iron and bolts clanged together with a crisp sound, and Zhou Yimin's palms quickly developed red marks.

When the triangular support was finally erected on the roof, Zhou Yimin breathed a sigh of relief, finally having completed the most difficult step.

When it was Zhou Yimin's turn to install the solar collector tubes, he made a point of wearing gloves.

The vacuum tube glowed with a deep blue light in the sunlight, as if it held the warmth of the entire winter.

"Handle with care," he muttered to himself, carefully inserting the tube into the water tank's sealing ring.

Just as the last pipe was inserted, Grandpa suddenly shouted from below, "Water! The water's here!"

Zhou Yimin looked down and saw his grandmother turning on the tap in the yard. Clear water flowed slowly into the water tank through the brand-new water pipe.

As the setting sun gilded the rooftops, Zhou Yimin finally completed the final adjustments.

He climbed down the ladder, and as soon as his feet touched the ground, his grandmother pulled him to the stove: "Take a rest and have a bowl of brown sugar water!"

Grandpa circled the water heater, his calloused hands gently stroking the metal casing, muttering to himself, "Good, good."

He never imagined he would be able to use such advanced technology.

(End of this chapter)