Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

It was 5:30 a.m. on the 17th day of the twelfth lunar month.

It was still dark, but the threshing ground at the entrance of Wangjiazhuang Village was already brightly lit. Four kerosene lanterns, hung by wire from wooden poles, swayed in the cold wind, their orange glow barely illuminating the specially cleared open space in the center of the ground. The snow had stopped, but the temperature seemed even lower than yesterday; breath turned to frost, and even the inside of the lanterns' glass shades was covered with a layer of ice flowers.

The Red Star mini-tractor sat in the center of the open space, its vermilion paint gleaming with a cold, hard sheen under the lights. Technician Liu had been busy beside the tractor for an hour. First, he carefully used a blowtorch to heat the diesel engine's oil pan, oil lines, and hydraulic oil tank—this was a special instruction from Engineer Wang, as the engine oil and hydraulic fluid would become viscous in extremely cold weather and had to be preheated. Then he checked the freezing point of the coolant and antifreeze, and only after confirming that everything was fine did he dare touch the start switch.

The threshing ground was packed with people. Almost everyone in the village of over three hundred, who was still able-bodied, had come. The men, draped in worn-out cotton-padded coats, stood with their hands in their sleeves, stamping their feet; the women had their faces covered only by headscarves, leaving only their eyes visible, and cradled sleepy-eyed children in their arms; the boys squeezed through the crowd, trying to get a closer look at the "iron ox." Everyone waited expectantly, eager to see just how miraculous this machine, brought from Beijing and said to be able to "plow through frozen ground," truly was.

"Make way, make way!" Wang Yuanshan, along with several village officials, used wooden shovels to clear the snow from the edge of the field, creating a wider work area. His face was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, his palms sweating profusely—he had sworn to cooperate with the testing yesterday, but what if the machine malfunctioned and he lost face in front of the leaders and experts? That would be truly…

"Captain Yuanshan, don't be too nervous." Wang Huanbo's voice rang out from behind. He had arrived at the sidelines at some point and was standing with Zhang Siyuan, Liu Shouren, and other members of the inspection team. Everyone was bundled up tightly, and Zhang Siyuan was even wearing cotton gloves, holding a notebook and a pencil in his hand.

"Wang, this ground... it's frozen solid." Wang Yuanshan stomped his foot on the ground, making a dull thud. "At this time of year, a single shovel strike would leave a white mark. Our old ox, harnessed to the plow, would have to stop to rest after only three steps."

"So we have to give it a try." Wang Huanbo's tone was calm, but his sharp gaze swept across the field. He walked over to Xiao Liu, bent down to check the various joints of the hydraulic suspension system, and then touched the pull rod of the three-point suspension device with his hand—the cold steel made his fingers go numb instantly, but he still keenly felt that the pin at the connection point was turning somewhat sluggishly.

"Xiao Liu, double-check the dust cover on the hydraulic cylinder; it might have gotten snow and frozen. Pour hot water over the connection area, but be careful not to splash it onto the electrical circuit."

"yes!"

Meanwhile, Li Huaide wasn't idle either. He had Cui Dake and two workers unload several wooden crates from the truck. Inside were various measuring instruments: a soil hardness tester, a measuring tape, a measuring rod, a thermometer, a stopwatch, and even a hand-cranked soil sampler borrowed from the Academy of Agricultural Sciences. Cui Dake quickly arranged the instruments on a makeshift square table and then found an old felt cloth to cover them to prevent them from getting damp.

"Director Zhang, Professor Liu, these are some simple measuring tools prepared by the factory." Li Huaide rubbed his hands together, apologetic smile on his face. "The conditions are limited, and they can't compare to the equipment in a professional laboratory, but they should be enough to measure some rough data."

Liu Shouren had already walked to the table and picked up the soil hardness meter to examine it carefully. It was a simple needle-type instrument, with a graduated probe and a conical probe at the bottom. He squatted down and pressed the probe hard against the ground—but after pressing it in less than half a centimeter, the pointer shook violently, pointing to the largest value on the scale.

"Goodness gracious..." Professor Liu stood up, patted the soil off his hands, "The hardness of this frozen soil is probably no less than 4 megapascals. Ordinary plows won't even work."

Zhang Siyuan's expression was grave. Although he wasn't a technical expert, he knew what this number meant. The frozen soil layer in northern winters was one of the toughest challenges in agricultural operations. During trials of Soviet tractors in Northeast China, accidents occurred where the plowshare cracked on the frozen soil. Could Engineer Wang's "little steel cannon," weighing only 1.8 tons, really handle it?

"Engineer Wang, how about... we try another place first? Like that wasteland outside the village, it might not be frozen as solid there." Li Huaide leaned closer to Wang Huanbo and suggested in a low voice. He was worried that if he embarrassed himself in public, the impact would be too bad.

Wang Huanbo shook his head: "Let's try it here. If we're going to try it, let's try the hardest one. If it really doesn't work, it means there are still flaws in the design, which is a good opportunity to improve it."

He glanced at his watch: six o'clock sharp. A faint glimmer of dawn was breaking on the eastern horizon.

"Xiao Liu, are you ready?"

"Ready, Engineer Wang!" Xiao Liu had already gotten into the driver's seat. He took a deep breath and turned the key.

With a "click," the instrument panel lights came on. The preheating indicator flashed for about ten seconds before going out. Xiao Liu pressed the clutch and turned the key all the way—

"Whoosh—rumble!"

A deep, powerful roar suddenly erupted, shattering the morning silence! A puff of pale blue smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe, quickly dissipating in the cold air. The diesel engine ran smoothly, its speed steadily settling at an idle speed of 800 rpm. Ignition successful on the first try!

A murmur of amazement rippled through the onlookers. Experienced farmers recognized the machine's clear, resonant sound – a good machine indeed!

Xiao Liu warmed up the engine for two minutes, then pushed the hydraulic control lever. The rear suspension arm slowly lowered under the action of the hydraulic cylinder until the tip of the heavy-duty single-furrow plow gently touched the ground. This is a reinforced plow specially designed for frozen soil operations. The plowshare is made of special material, and the cutting edge angle has been optimized, which theoretically reduces resistance and the risk of breakage.

"Let's begin," Wang Huanbo said in a deep voice.

Xiao Liu shifted into first gear—a "creep gear" designed specifically for extreme heavy loads, with a very high gear ratio and extremely slow speed, but the greatest traction. He gently released the clutch while simultaneously applying the accelerator.

The diesel engine roared louder, and black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe. The rear wheels began to turn, their wide off-road treads gripping the frozen ground with a creaking sound. The tractor moved slowly forward, at a speed of only about 1.5 kilometers per hour, slower than a person walking.

All eyes were fixed on the gleaming plowshare.

The plowshare pressed against the frozen ground, emitting a piercing "sizzle." The tractor visibly paused, but the engine roared, the rear wheels spun wildly for a moment, kicking up a cloud of snow and ice, before regaining traction. The plowshare had driven deep into the frozen soil, a dark crack extending forward along the plowshare!

"They're in! They're in!" a villager cried out.

But this was just the beginning. As the tractor moved forward slowly and steadily, the plowshare trudged through the frozen ground. What was being turned up was not loose soil, but chunks and clumps of frozen earth, some as large as a washbasin, others the size of a fist. These clumps were sharply defined, and clear ice crystal patterns could be seen on their cross-sections. On both sides of the furrow, the torn layers of frozen earth rolled upwards, revealing the relatively moist, dark subsoil beneath.

The tractor moved forward at a steady, almost stubborn, pace. Inside the cab, Xiao Liu was completely focused, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his feet subtly adjusting the clutch and accelerator, trying to maintain sufficient traction without over-revving and causing the tires to slip and burn out the clutch. Sweat beaded on his forehead, frost forming on his eyebrows.

Twenty meters, thirty meters, fifty meters...

A straight furrow, 25 centimeters deep and about 30 centimeters wide, stretched across the hard, iron-like ground of the threshing floor. The turned-up frozen clods of earth piled up into low mounds on both sides of the furrow, emitting wisps of white steam in the dim morning light—water vapor formed by the sublimation of ice crystals inside the clods.

"Stop!" Wang Huanbo raised his hand.

Xiao Liu pressed the clutch, shifted into neutral, and engaged the handbrake. The tractor came to a steady stop, and the engine idled.

The scene was completely silent. Only the deep rumble of the diesel engines and the heavy breathing of the people could be heard.

Liu Shouren was the first to rush forward. He practically pounced on the edge of the furrow, ignoring the freezing cold of the soil, and used his hands to pry open the clods of earth. He used a measuring tape to measure the depth and width of the furrow, and then used a soil hardness tester to measure the hardness of the newly exposed soil layer at the bottom of the furrow.

"Depth...25 to 28 centimeters! Width 30 centimeters!" His voice trembled with excitement. "The soil hardness at the bottom of the trench...has dropped to about 1.5 MPa! My God...it's really plowed through! It's completely plowed through!"

Zhang Siyuan also squatted down and picked up a clod of turned-up frozen soil. The clod was heavy and hard in his hand, and the cut surface showed a smooth slope carved by the plow. He looked up at Wang Huanbo, who was standing not far away. The young engineer looked calm, seemingly unsurprised by the result, and was simply focused on the shape of the furrow, assessing something in his mind.

"Engineer Wang..." Zhang Siyuan stood up, dusted off his hands, walked over to Wang Huanbo, and shook his hand firmly. "Amazing! Truly amazing!"

Wang Huanbo smiled faintly: "Director Zhang, this is only the first step. We still need to test the stability and fuel consumption during continuous operation."

"Measure! Keep measuring!" Liu Shouren was already frantically taking notes in his notebook. "Comrade Liu, could you plow a few more times? I want to measure the data at different depths and speeds!"

"Okay." Wang Huanbo nodded and said to Xiao Liu, "Shift to second gear and try going a little faster. Listen to the engine sound; if the load is too high, downshift."

"clear!"

The second round of testing began. This time, Xiao Liu shifted to second gear, increasing the operating speed to approximately 3 kilometers per hour. The plowshare cut into the frozen soil again, remaining stable. After three consecutive round trips, totaling about 150 meters, the tractor performed steadily, without any abnormal noise or vibration. Liu Shouren, as if possessed, followed the tractor around, measuring, recording, and sampling, constantly muttering technical terms such as "traction coefficient," "specific drag," and "power utilization rate."

The villagers were already in an uproar.

"My God! This iron ox is really powerful! Look at that ground, it cuts through it like a knife slicing tofu!"

"That's more land than all the able-bodied men in our village cleared in a whole winter!"

"If we had two... no, just one! We could clear the entire hillside at the east end of the village before spring!"

"When will our village have one too...?"

Wang Yuanshan squatted by the furrow, grabbing a handful of dark, icy soil that had been turned over and squeezed tightly in his palm. The cold earth seeped through his fingers, but he grinned, his wrinkled face crinkling into a wide smile. He remembered last spring, when, to save time for the soil moisture, the entire village, young and old, pitched in, using hoes and shovels to painstakingly break up the hardened earth, their hands covered in layers of blisters. Even so, they still missed the planting season, and the autumn harvest was reduced by 20%.

"Huanbo..." The old man stood up, walked to Wang Huanbo's side, his lips trembling, wanting to say something, but he couldn't utter a complete sentence for a long time. In the end, he just patted Wang Huanbo's shoulder heavily, his eyes reddening.

Li Huaide observed all of this. He quietly approached Cui Dake and whispered, "Go and distribute the work gloves we brought to some of the elderly villagers who have frostbite on their hands. Also, tell Zhu Zi to add a hearty dish for lunch, using the spare ribs we brought."

"Alright!" Cui Dake responded and left, inwardly admiring: Director Li's insight is amazing! Offering help at this time is more effective than ever.

At nine o'clock in the morning, the sun was fully up. Although it wasn't very warm, the world was much brighter. On the threshing floor, the Red Star tractor had completed tests of various operating modes, including deep loosening, shallow tillage, and ditching. The longest continuous working time reached two hours and fifteen minutes, with all tractor parameters remaining stable, no leaks in the hydraulic system, and the engine coolant temperature consistently maintained within the optimal range of 85-90 degrees Celsius.

What shocked Liu Shouren most was the fuel consumption data. Based on his on-site calculations of workload and fuel consumption, he roughly estimated that this 40-horsepower tractor, operating continuously on frozen ground, consumed approximately 5.5-6 liters of fuel per hour. This figure is even lower than some older 30-horsepower models!

"Engineer Wang, how did you manage to do that?" During a break in testing, Professor Liu couldn't help but pull Wang Huanbo aside and press for an answer. "The engine's thermal efficiency, the transmission system's matching, and the energy loss control of the hydraulic system... they're all outstanding! Many of the design concepts are things I've never even heard of before!"

Wang Huanbo was squatting beside the tractor, inspecting the frozen soil stuck in the tire treads. Hearing this, he looked up and explained simply, "The main improvements were in the combustion chamber shape and fuel injection timing, allowing for more complete diesel combustion. The transmission system uses helical gears, reducing noise and friction loss. The hydraulic pump is a variable displacement piston pump, automatically unloading when not in operation to reduce no-load power consumption."

He spoke of it casually, but Liu Shouren knew that every "optimization" involved meant countless calculations, experiments, and modifications. Without a solid theoretical foundation and strong engineering practice, it would be impossible to achieve.

"Engineer Wang," Zhang Siyuan walked over, his expression even more serious than in the morning, "If... I mean if, after mass production, how much would each 'Little Steel Cannon' cost? Could farmers afford it?"

This is the key issue. No matter how good the machine is, if it's ridiculously expensive, it can only lie in the testing ground and demonstration field.

Wang Huanbo pondered for a moment: "Currently, the cost of the prototype is about 4,500 yuan. If we mass-produce it, through large-scale production, supply chain optimization, and reduced working hours, I am confident that we can control the cost to within 3,800 yuan. If we can secure some government subsidies, or adopt methods such as production teams pooling funds to purchase it or installment payments, we should have a chance to enter ordinary rural areas."

"Three thousand eight..." Zhang Siyuan quickly calculated in his mind. This price was roughly equivalent to twenty strong adult oxen or four imported second-hand wheeled tractors. But considering that the "Little Cannon" could plow, transport, pump water and drill wells, it was a multi-functional machine, and its operating costs (fuel and maintenance) were far lower than those of animal power, it was worthwhile in the long run.

More importantly, it can liberate labor. If a production team has a "small cannon", it can save at least ten strong laborers. These people can engage in sideline businesses, build water conservancy projects, or learn to read and write, generating value far exceeding that of the machine itself.

"Worth it!" Zhang Siyuan nodded vigorously. "Engineer Wang, the ministry will definitely give its full support to this project! I'll write a report as soon as I get back!"

The morning's tests concluded around 11:00 AM. The Red Star Mini Cannon, operating continuously at high intensity for nearly four hours in sub-zero temperatures, successfully tilled nearly three acres of frozen soil to a depth exceeding 25 centimeters. This achievement not only amazed the experts on the inspection team but also completely convinced the villagers of Wangjiazhuang of the incredible power of this "iron ox."

Lunch was again arranged at the ancestral hall. Sha Zhu brought out his best culinary skills. In addition to yesterday's main dish, he specially added braised pork ribs today, using the fresh spare ribs that Li Huaide had instructed him to add. The ribs were braised to a glossy red color, tender and falling off the bone, savory and slightly sweet—the young members of the inspection team almost swallowed their tongues while eating. There was also a dish of pickled cabbage, pork belly, and blood sausage, made with homemade pickled cabbage by the villagers—tangy, refreshing, and warming.

Wang Yuanshan specially brought out a jar of sweet potato liquor treasured in the village and poured a bowl for each table. "Distinguished leaders and experts, it's cold, have a drink to warm yourselves up! This liquor is homemade, strong, but won't give you a headache!"

Zhang Siyuan wanted to decline, but seeing the old man's sincere eyes and noticing Wang Huanbo's slight nod at the same table, he picked up the rough porcelain bowl and took a sip. The burning sensation traveled from his throat to his stomach, dispelling the chill that had accumulated throughout the morning.

"Good wine!" he exclaimed, then added seriously, "However, Captain Yuanshan, we still have tests this afternoon, so let's stop here. We'll celebrate properly once the 'Little Cannon' is actually in widespread use!"

"That's right! That's right!" Wang Yuanshan nodded repeatedly, his face beaming with joy.

At the dinner table, the atmosphere became more relaxed. The villagers, no longer as reserved as yesterday, began asking questions about the "little cannon": How much oil does it consume daily? How do you fix it if it breaks down? Could you teach one of the village's young men how to drive it? ...

Wang Huanbo patiently answered all their questions. Li Huaide, seizing the opportunity, "leaked" a piece of information: once the "Red Star Little Cannon" officially goes into production, the factory might recruit a group of outstanding rural youths for tractor driver training, so they could return to their villages to drive, earn wages, and receive government-subsidized grain rations!

Upon hearing this, the eyes of several teenagers at the dinner table lit up instantly. Wang Jinshi (Little Stone), Wang Yuanshan's youngest son, who had just turned eighteen and was known in the village as a "clever devil"—he could figure things out as quickly as he was told—suddenly looked up at Wang Huanbo and Li Huaide with eyes that seemed to ignite two flames.

The afternoon's test project was well drilling. This was a key project specially arranged by Wang Huanbo, and it was also the most pressing problem that the villagers of Wangjiazhuang needed to solve. The village only had one old well with a small water output, and during droughts, several villages would fight over water, leading to many conflicts.

The test site was chosen in a relatively low-lying wasteland outside the village, where, according to the elders, there were underground water veins. The drilling module had been installed on the PTO output shaft of the Red Star Small Steel Cannon the day before. This is a relatively simple impact drilling machine, which drives a crank-connecting rod mechanism through the tractor's power output shaft to make the heavy drill bit ("hammer") move up and down to impact the strata.

The principle is simple, but it puts a tremendous strain on the tractor's power stability and continuous output capability. Impact drilling is an intermittent heavy-duty operation; each time the hammer is raised and lowered, it generates a huge impact on the transmission system. Many tractors cannot do this job, or they break down after a short time.

"Xiao Liu, listen carefully to the engine sound while drilling. If the speed drops drastically or there is an abnormal knocking sound, stop the machine immediately," Wang Huanbo instructed again.

"clear!"

The diesel engine roared to life again. The PTO shaft rotated at the standard speed of 540 rpm, driving the crank of the drilling rig via belt drive. The heavy cast iron hammer was lifted two meters high and then crashed down!

"Bang!!!"

A dull, deafening roar sent shivers down one's spine. A shallow crater was blasted into the frozen ground, sending dirt flying. The hammer rose and fell again, the cycle repeating endlessly.

"Record: Impact frequency 20 times per minute, stroke 2 meters, drill bit weight 150 kilograms," Liu Shouren said to his assistant while checking his watch. Several young technicians set up measuring rods at the wellhead to record the drilling depth at any time.

The Red Star mini-cannon remained firmly planted in place, only trembling slightly with each impact, without significant shaking. The engine's roar rose and fell rhythmically between impacts, but the tachometer remained stable at around 1500 rpm—the optimal operating speed set by Wang Huanbo.

"Hydraulic system pressure is normal!"

"Transmission fluid temperature is normal!"

"Engine coolant temperature 90 degrees Celsius!"

With each report, the drill bit inch by inch advanced into the ground. The frozen soil layer was quickly breached, revealing a relatively soft sandy layer below, and the progress accelerated significantly. When the drill bit reached a depth of five meters, the mud and sand it brought up began to become moist.

"We've found water! We've found water!" the villager in charge of observation shouted excitedly.

Wang Huanbo immediately signaled Xiao Liu to stop the machine. He walked to the wellhead himself and looked down. The water seeping from the well shaft shimmered murky under the light. He had someone scoop some up in a bucket. The water was slightly murky, but had a distinct coolness and earthy smell, typical of shallow groundwater.

"The depth is 5.2 meters, and the initial water output is estimated to be about two cubic meters per hour." Wang Huanbo straightened up and said to Zhang Siyuan and Wang Yuanshan, "We can lower the well pipe now. This well should be enough to supply the village with daily drinking water and irrigate some of the vegetable fields."

Wang Yuanshan was speechless, only nodding vigorously, his eyes reddening again. With this well, next spring, the thirty mu of dry land at the east end of the village could be irrigated! A single wheat harvest would yield at least a thousand jin more!

"Keep firing!" Zhang Siyuan shouted with high spirits. "Fire another shot! A deeper one!"

The second well was chosen at the other end of the village. This time, the drill bit encountered a layer of rock, slowing down the progress, but the "little cannon" continued to work tenaciously. Finally, at a depth of 8.5 meters, it struck a deeper layer of water with clearer quality and a larger volume. When the clear well water gushed out and was carried up by the villagers in brand-new wooden buckets, the entire well-drilling site erupted in thunderous cheers.

The old folks scooped up the first handful of water in earthenware bowls, trembling as they brought them to their lips, carefully tasted it, and then tears streamed down their faces: "Sweet! It's sweet water! Our Wangjiazhuang village has its own sweet water well now!"

As the sun set, the tests concluded. The Red Star mini-cannon operated continuously for over eight hours in the frigid conditions, completing a series of challenging tasks including tilling frozen soil, ditching, deep loosening, and well drilling. Its performance was stable, and the data was excellent. All test data was meticulously recorded and will be taken back to the ministry by the inspection team as a key basis for project review and mass production decisions.

That evening, Wangjiazhuang was as lively as if it were Chinese New Year. Although Li Huaide and Zhang Siyuan insisted on not having a grand celebration, the villagers spontaneously contributed eggs, vermicelli, and cabbage, and Shazhu cooked several more dishes at the ancestral hall. This time there were no delicacies, only simple farm-style dishes, but everyone ate with exceptional relish.

After the meal, Wang Huanbo was invited to sit in the home of several elders from his clan. The elders sat around the brazier, smoking their pipes, reminiscing about the past, expressing their hopes for the "Iron Ox," and their gratitude towards Wang Huanbo. Wang Huanbo listened quietly, nodding occasionally, his gaze gentle.

Inside the ancestral hall's side room, Zhang Siyuan and Liu Shouren were still organizing data under the oil lamp. A thick stack of record sheets was filled with densely packed numbers and charts.

"Old Zhang," Liu Shouren took off his glasses, rubbed his sore eyes, and his voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement, "Do you know what these data mean? This 'Red Star Little Steel Cannon' has approached or even surpassed the Soviet MTZ-5 in key performance indicators! And in terms of adaptability, economy, and especially multi-functional expandability, it is more suitable for China's national conditions!"

"I know," Zhang Siyuan said slowly, gazing at the flickering flame. "Therefore, we must get it into mass production as soon as possible and deliver it to the farmers. Spring plowing in the north and the double harvest in the south can't wait."

Outside the window, the night was as dark as ink. But in this small village on the outskirts of Beijing, everyone felt that a light was shining in their hearts and a fire was burning warmly within them.

That lamp, that flame, came from a red, roaring "iron ox" that could plow through frozen soil and unleash sweet spring water.

It's called Red Star Little Steel Cannon.

At the village entrance shed, exhausted from a long day, Xiao Liu habitually checked the tractor one last time before bed. He stroked the cold steel exterior as if caressing a beloved warhorse. Tomorrow, it would carry hope and anticipation, leaving this place for a place where it would be needed more.

But Xiao Liu knew it would come back. It would bring more brothers and sisters back to this land, back to countless villages like Wangjiazhuang.

By then, iron oxen will be everywhere, and the harvests will be plentiful.

He pondered and pondered, until, amidst the faint, lingering smell of diesel engine oil, he drifted off to sleep. A wistful smile still lingered on his lips.