Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

Section 1: The Prelude to Reconstruction Amidst Ruins

On October 7, 1958, at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang, the first rays of dawn broke.

The bluestone path, washed clean by last night's autumn rain, gleamed coldly. Amidst the piles of broken bricks and tiles at the base of the courtyard wall, a few wild grasses stubbornly poked their heads out from the damp mud. Li Huaide, dressed in faded blue overalls with his trousers rolled up to his knees, revealing mud-caked rubber boots, held a measuring tape in his hand, directing the construction team from the Hongxing Factory to measure the collapsed wall of the west courtyard.

"Old Zhou, you take Team Two and clear the rubble from the main house first!" he shouted to a bearded man in the crowd, his voice hoarse from days of hard work. "Be careful not to touch Chief Engineer Wang's study window—that's a key protected area!"

The construction team's young men weaved through the crowd pushing wheelbarrows, their cargo beds crammed with broken beams and shattered bricks. In a corner, Xu Damao stood with his hands on his hips, gesturing to a man who looked like a foreman: "Just make it like the style of Sha Zhu's little house! Extend the balcony outward by half a meter, it'll look more impressive!" A crumpled sketch lay spread out at his feet, a wedding room design "borrowed" from Wang Huanbo's study, its edges worn rough from being rubbed.

"Comrade Xu, the amount of steel reinforcement marked on these drawings..." The foreman hesitated before speaking.

"Money is no problem!" Xu Damao pulled a thick wad of banknotes from his pocket and slammed it on the stone table. It was the dowry money he had asked his family for, plus a high-interest loan. "As long as it's built taller than Sha Zhu's house, I'll cover all the extra expenses!"

Not far away, Wang Huanbo's bodyguard, Lin Zhan, was leading two plainclothes officers from the Central Security Bureau on patrol in the courtyard. They carried heavy Type 54 pistols at their waists, their eyes scanning every corner of the construction site like hawks. "The higher-ups have instructed that not a single brick or tile in the west wing can be out of sight," Lin Zhan said to his companion in a low voice, "especially your study; you must be present to supervise the construction."

Section Two: The Secrets and Glory of the West Wing

At noon, at the construction site of the west courtyard.

Sunlight pierced through the makeshift protective netting, casting dappled shadows on the broken walls of Wang Huanbo's study. This small courtyard with its blue bricks and gray tiles was once the most elegant spot in No. 95 Courtyard, but now it was riddled with holes by a grenade explosion—most of the east wall had collapsed, and the carved wooden windows hung crookedly on their remaining frames. Only the heavy mahogany door remained tightly closed, and the plaque above the door, inscribed with "Passing Down the Family Tradition of Farming and Reading," was cracked in two, like a hideous scar.

"Engineer Wang, the main wall reinforcement is complete!" Li Huaide wiped the sweat from his forehead and handed over the acceptance form. "As per your request, all materials were made of fire-resistant bricks, and the windows have been replaced with bulletproof glass."

Wang Huanbo stood under the eaves, his gaze sweeping over the newly renovated courtyard. Three days ago, it was still a wasteland, but now it was beginning to take shape. He reached out and touched the newly pieced-together plaque above the door, his fingertips brushing against the still-wet paint—the vermilion color that Lou Xiao'e had personally mixed.

"Brother Li, you've worked hard." He took a brown paper envelope from his briefcase. "This is a subsidy from the factory. Take it and give it to the workers to make them have extra meals."

Li Huaide waved his hands repeatedly: "No way! Engineer Wang, the technological innovations you've brought to the factory have saved the country enough foreign exchange to build ten of these facilities!"

"Rules are rules." Wang Huanbo shoved the envelope into his hand, his tone leaving no room for argument. "By the way, the maintenance records for the west wing should be filed separately; they might be useful in the future."

Suddenly, plainclothes officer Zhang came running from the direction of the study, holding a rusty iron box: "Sir! It was found in a crack in the wall! It looks like... an enemy agent's codebook!"

Wang Huanbo took the iron box and wiped the dust off with his fingertips. A line of Russian text was engraved on the inside of the lid, gleaming coldly in the sunlight. He recalled that bloody dusk seven days ago—enemy agents had scaled the wall from the west wing, and the shockwave of the grenade explosion had ripped the entire wall off. If the guard battalion hadn't arrived in time…

"Send it to the security department for identification immediately." He handed the tin box to Lin Zhan and turned to walk out of the courtyard. There, Lou Xiao'e was holding Yan Yan under the pomegranate tree, basking in the sun. Sunlight filtered through the sparse branches and leaves, casting dappled golden spots on her face.

Section 3: The Blueprint Scandal and the Turmoil of Jealousy

The east wing of the west courtyard, in the afternoon

Xu Damao held the design drawings as if they were priceless treasures, his fingers tracing every detail of Sha Zhu's wedding room on the drawings: "Look at these Roman columns! These arched windows! And this spiral staircase..." He became more and more excited as he spoke, spittle splattering onto the drawings, "Once my house is built, I guarantee it will be ten times more impressive than that Sha Zhu's!"

"Da Mao, are you really going to build it like Sha Zhu's house?" Neighbor Aunt Wang poked her head in, sewing shoe soles in her hands.

"Hmph!" Xu Damao sneered, carefully rolling up the blueprints and stuffing them into his pocket. "If Sha Zhu can have it, why can't I, Xu Damao, have it too? Besides..." He lowered his voice, "I've inquired; there's a 'house-protecting talisman' buried under Sha Zhu's house, said to have been obtained by his grandfather from the palace! If I build it according to that, maybe I can get some good fortune too!"

Before he could finish speaking, the courtyard gate was kicked open with a bang. Sha Zhu stormed in, carrying a half-full sack of flour. His newly made Lenin-style jacket, covered in flour, looked like a freshly steamed bun. "Xu Damao!" he shouted, grabbing Xu Damao by the collar, his eyes wide as saucers. "You dare steal my family's blueprints?!"

"Let go!" Xu Damao struggled defiantly. "These blueprints were personally approved for me by Engineer Wang! What right do you have to take them?"

"Approved?" Sha Zhu trembled with rage. "That was drawn all night by my brother Huanbo! You shamelessly asked for it; my brother was only doing it out of pity!"

The two wrestled, knocking over the chicken coop in the corner of the yard. The speckled chickens flapped their wings wildly, feathers mingling with dust and dancing in the sunlight. Yu Li, who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion, grabbed Sha Zhu by the back of his collar: "Are you crazy! What's the point of reasoning with a scoundrel!" She turned to Xu Damao with a forced smile: "Brother Mao, we were in the wrong about the drawings. Let me see if I can get Brother Huanbo to draw another one for you..."

"Who wants your charity!" Xu Damao broke free, pointing at Shazhu's nose and cursing, "You wait! Once my house is built, the first thing I'll do is cut down your pomegranate tree for firewood!"

Sha Zhu wanted to chase after him to argue, but Yu Li held him back tightly: "Have you forgotten what Huanbo said? It's not worth getting angry with this kind of person!" She looked at Xu Damao's departing figure, a trace of worry flashing in her eyes—she knew that this dispute caused by jealousy had only just begun.

Section Four: A Journey Home and Dumplings for Reunion

Beijing Railway Station, evening

The steam locomotive, billowing thick smoke, slowly pulled into the station. Jia Dongxu, using his intact left hand, struggled to pull his luggage out of the crowded carriage. His right arm, disabled due to a previous work injury, prevented him from lifting heavy objects, and the nerves in his hand had also been damaged. His years studying in Northeast China had etched the marks of time on his face; his once upright spine was now slightly hunched, but his eyes remained as bright as stars.

"Dongxu!" Qin Huairu stumbled over carrying a thermos, her apron still covered in flour. "You're finally back!" Behind her followed three bouncy children. Banggeng was already helping to carry things, Xiaodang timidly hid behind his mother, and the youngest, Huaihua, was still sleeping in her swaddling clothes at home.

Madam Jia, her plump body moving swiftly towards him, her triangular eyes instantly welling with tears: "My son...you're finally back..." She stretched out her chubby hand, trembling as she stroked her son's cheek, "You've lost weight...you've gotten darker..."

Jia Dongxu grinned, revealing two rows of teeth stained yellow by cigarette smoke: "Mom, I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?" He bent down and picked up Xiao Dang, "Dad bought you some candied hawthorns, you can have them when we get home."

Outside the train station, two pedicabs had been waiting for a long time.

The tricycle driver, noticing Jia Dongxu's arm disability, slowed down. The setting sun cast long shadows on the special couple.

Section 5: The Bitter End and the Sweet End in the Fragrance of Dumplings

As night falls, the Jia family compound at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang...

Under the dim light of a kerosene lamp, Qin Huairu was busy at the cutting board. The dough flew under her hands, and in no time it was transformed into round dumpling wrappers. Jia Dongxu sat on a small stool, clumsily pinching the edges of the dumplings with his left hand, but the filling always stubbornly leaked out between his fingers.

"You should rest!" Qin Huairu smiled and took the dumplings from his hand. "I can do it." She glanced at her husband's weak right arm, and a pang of sorrow shot through her heart—the work injury three years ago had crippled Jia Dongxu's right arm, almost destroying the family. If it weren't for Wang Huanbo's recommendation for him to study in Northeast China, if it weren't for the 20 yuan monthly allowance from the Hongxing Factory…

"Huai Ru," Jia Dongxu suddenly spoke, "how's the factory doing lately?"

"Everything's fine!" Qin Huairu said as she rolled out the dough. She paused, her voice choked with emotion, "And... I've saved all the money you sent back... for the children's new clothes..."

Jia Dongxu's rough fingers traced the family photo on the table—in the photo, he was still a healthy young man, his wife was young and beautiful, and the children were laughing and playing around their parents. Now the photo was yellowed and the edges were badly worn, but it was still the most precious treasure of this family.

"Creak—" The courtyard gate was pushed open, and Sha Zhu walked in carrying half a braised pork knuckle: "Dongxu's back? I've got some good stuff here, you guys try it!" When he saw Jia Dongxu's right arm, which was disabled due to a work injury, his smile froze for a moment, then he said loudly, "Dongxu, don't worry! If anyone dares to bully you in the future, I, Sha Zhu, will be the first to object!"

Jia Dongxu grinned, revealing two rows of teeth stained yellow from cigarette smoke: "Silly Zhu, thank you..."

In the kitchen, Xiao Dang peered curiously through the doorframe: "Mom, when can Dad eat dumplings?"

"Almost done!" Qin Huairu smiled as she scooped the cooked dumplings into a bowl, the steaming aroma filling the entire room. Madam Jia Zhang picked up the bowl, blew on it to cool it, and carefully fed it to Bang Geng, saying, "Eat slowly...don't burn yourself..."

Outside the window, a bright moon climbed above the branches, its silvery light bathing the entire courtyard. The pomegranate tree in the corner was laden with fruit, gleaming like agate in the moonlight. In the distance, sporadic firecrackers could be heard—the sounds of a wedding celebration at the neighbor's house.

Jia Dongxu gazed at the heartwarming scene before him, his left hand tightly gripping Qin Huairu's. He knew that the taste of these dumplings was sweeter than any delicacy he had ever eaten.

Section Six: A Glimmer of Light in the Dark Night and a Prologue to the Future

Rooftop of No. 95 Courtyard, late at night

Wang Huanbo sat alone on the roof ridge, a cup of warm Longjing tea in his hand. Moonlight poured down like water, illuminating the coded telegram in his hand—a relic of enemy agents discovered during the day by the construction team.

"Engineer Wang," Lin Zhan appeared silently behind him, "The Security Department's identification results are in." He handed over a stack of documents, "The preliminary judgment is that it is the Kuomintang Bureau of Investigation and Statistics' communication code, belonging to the same system as the batch of documents we seized earlier."

Wang Huanbo opened the document, his brow furrowed. The document mentioned a covert operation called "Ghost," specifically targeting research institutions and high-ranking officials in Beijing. The attack on the West Wing was just the beginning…

"Notify the higher-ups," he stood up, putting the codebook into his pocket, "that they increase security within the compound, especially in Lou Xiao'e and Yan Yan's rooms."

"Yes!" Lin Zhan saluted and turned to leave.

Wang Huanbo gazed at the lights emanating from the Jia family's house in the distance, a smile of contentment playing on his lips. He knew that in this turbulent era, the warmth and everyday life of ordinary families was the most precious thing. Whether it was the Jia Dongxu family's reunion dumplings, the bickering between Sha Zhu and his wife, or Xu Damao's ridiculous competitive spirit, these were all the most authentic aspects of life.

He gently stroked the codebook in his arms, a resolute glint in his eyes—no matter how much wind and rain lay ahead, he would protect the lights of every household on this land in his own way.

Epilogue: Autumn Harvest and Sowing

The next morning, No. 95 Courtyard

As the first rays of sunlight streamed into the courtyard, the construction team's shouts rang out again. The foundation for Xu Damao's new house had been laid, the red bricks gleaming warmly in the sunlight. Sha Zhu and Yu Li walked by hand in hand; Sha Zhu carried freshly bought soy milk and fried dough sticks, while Yu Li held a pot of blooming roses in her arms.

Jia Dongxu strolled in the courtyard, Qin Huairu following behind him, carrying a newly made cotton-padded jacket. Three children chased and played under the pomegranate tree, their laughter as clear and melodious as silver bells.

Wang Huanbo stood on the steps of the west courtyard, gazing at everything before him. He knew that this courtyard, which had endured so many hardships, would eventually be reborn under the sunshine of the new era. And those who had persevered through suffering would also usher in their own spring.

A gentle autumn breeze carried the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms. Wang Huanbo took a deep breath and turned to walk towards his study—where countless problems awaited him.