Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The sweet taste of the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month lingered on the tongue like a sticky dream, not yet completely dissipated. The festive atmosphere of Beijing, like a punctured balloon by a mischievous child, deflated with the warming east wind, leaving only a faint, rubbery smell. At the entrance of Nanluoguxiang, the wooden sign of the "Military Control Commission," a symbol of military management during a special period, was carefully removed by two staff members, revealing slightly mottled marks on the wall behind it. Immediately, a brand-new sign, white with red lettering and exuding the fresh scent of tung oil, reading "Hongxing Subdistrict Office," was steadily hung up. On the day of the unveiling, several cadres from the subdistrict office (Yang Chengdong, formerly of the Military Control Commission, had been promoted to the district level, while several others remained in their positions) lit a string of firecrackers at the alley entrance. The crackling sound startled the sparrows dozing under the eaves and attracted the attention of neighbors in nearby courtyards. The bright red firecracker debris, scattered on the still-unmelted snow, stood out starkly, like a clear dividing line, marking the end of the extraordinary period and heralding the beginning of a new chapter of more in-depth and meticulous daily management in the streets and alleys.

On the eighteenth day of the first lunar month, the early spring chill was still quite biting. Two young cadres wearing brand-new red armbands with the words "Street Office" on their arms knocked on the door of No. 95 Nanluoguxiang, one by one, and invited the heads of the households in the courtyard to a more spacious open space in the middle courtyard.

"Dear neighbors, young and old!" A bespectacled, student-looking clerk raised his voice, waving a still-freshly printed leaflet. "The Hongxing Subdistrict Office has been established! To strengthen public security in our area, to ensure everyone lives a more secure life, and to promptly detect any suspicious activity, root out any potential criminals, and safeguard the good life of our new society, the higher authorities have decided to elect one or two 'security liaisons' in each of our compounds!"

"A liaison officer?" Yan Bugui, who was squatting on his doorstep smoking a cigarette, adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose. He blinked his small eyes behind the lenses. "What... what kind of position is that? Is there any stipend?"

"Teacher Yan," another slightly older, more composed cadre explained with a smile, "the liaison officers are representatives elected by the people themselves. They're volunteers, not on the government payroll, and don't receive a fixed salary. Their main job is to keep an eye out for unfamiliar faces coming and going in and out of the compound, and if they find anyone suspicious or whose origins are unclear, to let the street office know in time; to help promote new policies and regulations; to mediate minor disputes and arguments between neighbors; and to run errands for holidays or important notices to everyone. In short, they are the eyes and ears of the street office in our compound, and also a way for us to manage ourselves and protect our homes."

"Oh, it's voluntary..." Yan Bugui drawled, tapping his brass pipe against the hard-soled cloth shoes. His mind raced with calculations. No profit, just a wasted effort... but at least he could get noticed by the neighborhood committee? Who knows, maybe they'd think of us first when they're nominated for awards or some scarce supplies?

Liu Haizhong, hands behind his back, strolled over with a steady gait. His blue overalls from the steel mill were faded from washing, the collar buttoned tightly, his belly slightly protruding, and his face bearing the usual lecturing expression. Hearing the words "liaison officer," his eyes lit up. He didn't really care about the obligation; the key was the word "official," which sounded like a title, even the lowest one. Old Liu had toiled in the steel mill for so many years, only managing a few apprentices on the production line, feeling his abundant "management talents" had nowhere to be used. If he could become a liaison officer in this yard, it would be a title, at least at the street level, bringing prestige and giving him more confidence when disciplining his son at home, wouldn't it?

"Ahem, this liaison officer position carries a heavy responsibility!" Liu Haizhong cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound more authoritative and attract the attention of the two cadres. "The personnel composition in our compound... well, it's quite complex, and there's a lot of turnover. We definitely need comrades with high political awareness, a strong sense of responsibility, and the courage to take on this task! I think the most important thing is to have a solid ideology, secondly, to be familiar with the situation of each household in our compound, and thirdly, it would be best if they had some work and management experience in factories and mines, so they could handle things more clearly and systematically."

The implication was that he was practically offering himself up. Xu Wude, the film projectionist at the steel mill, usually a smooth and unassuming man, simply puffed on a cigarette, a faint smile on his face, offering no comment. His son, Xu Damao, was only fourteen, in middle school, and his wife, Shi Zhenxiang, worked as a maid for the Lou family. He had little interest in this kind of "unpaid job" that required him to be in the public eye and might offend the neighbors.

As soon as the door to the He family's house in the middle courtyard opened, He Daqing came out. Today, he was wearing a brand-new navy blue Zhongshan suit, the fabric crisp and clean. His hair was shaved short and neat, revealing his pale scalp, and his stubble was clean-shaven, giving him a sharp and capable air. The lingering sense of dejection and timidity between his brows had faded considerably. Although a hint of caution still lingered in his eyes, his overall demeanor was completely different from the disheveled and slumped appearance he had when he first returned in December. This outfit was the result of his younger brother He Damin's instructions a few days ago. He had gritted his teeth and gone to "Ruifuxiang" to buy the finest fabric, had it meticulously sewn by a master tailor, and then thoroughly soaked and scrubbed himself clean at the bathhouse. Truly, clothes make the man.

The two street officials' gazes lingered on He Daqing for a moment. They had briefly inquired about the situation of this compound before coming. This He Daqing was originally the eldest son of the He family. It was said that he had become confused a few years ago, abandoning his own children and running off with a woman from another place, only to recently return looking disheveled. However, his younger brother, He Damin, seemed to be quite remarkable—he had bought a large tract of wasteland in the northwest suburbs and recently reclaimed the east wing of the compound; there were also some dubious rumors circulating within the street office. Seeing He Daqing so neatly organized now, he didn't seem as wretched as the rumors suggested.

"Master He is also at home." The older cadre nodded politely.

"Yes, yes," He Daqing quickly bowed slightly in response, keeping a very humble posture. He hadn't thought about the liaison officer position at all; the two important things his younger brother had entrusted to him—"getting married" and "returning to the steel mill"—were weighing heavily on his mind.

The two cadres briefly explained the selection process: nominations could be made by residents or volunteers, with the final decision made by the subdistrict office after comprehensive consideration. The main factors considered were their popularity within the compound, availability of free time, and level of enthusiasm.

Yan Bugui's eyes darted around, and he spoke first: "If you ask me, Master Liu from the backyard is the most suitable! He's an old worker, his awareness is beyond question, he's in charge of things in the factory, he's experienced, and he can command respect." He first flattered Liu Haizhong, since he didn't want to take on this job that didn't bring him any real benefits, so he might as well do him a favor.

Liu Haizhong's face immediately broke into a smile, and his back straightened up a bit more unconsciously, but he still said modestly, "Teacher Yan is too kind. It's all about serving the neighbors." Xu Wude also chimed in, "Master Liu is indeed capable." He Daqing didn't say anything; he really didn't care who the liaison was.

The two cadres jotted down a few notes in their notebooks, then asked, "Besides Master Liu, who else in the compound do you think is suitable? Or, are there any comrades who hold positions in the factory or other units and have considerable prestige?"

The group exchanged glances. Of the steel mill workers, only Liu Haizhong (Foreman Duan) and Xu Wude (projectionist) were interested, with Xu Wude clearly showing no interest. Of the teachers from the institute, only Yan Bugui remained, but he also seemed unenthusiastic. He Daqing… it was said he used to be a renowned chef at Fengzeyuan Restaurant, with exceptional culinary skills, but currently lacked a stable job. His younger brother, He Damin, on the other hand, was elusive and seemingly extremely capable, but why would someone like him be a mere messenger?

"How about... we have Master Liu fill in for now?" Yan Bugui asked tentatively. "Our compound isn't that big, so one liaison officer can handle it for now. If things get too complicated, the neighborhood committee can add more people?"

The two cadres exchanged a glance and nodded: "Alright. Then let's tentatively appoint Comrade Liu Haizhong from the backyard as the security liaison officer for our No. 95 compound. Mr. Liu, please work hard from now on and keep in touch with the street office."

"Absolutely! Please rest assured, organization!" Liu Haizhong immediately puffed out his chest and made a promise, his face glowing as if he had received a military order.

After seeing off the street officials, the people in the courtyard dispersed. Liu Haizhong paced back and forth in the middle courtyard a couple of times, looking around with a hint of scrutiny and "management" in his eyes. Yan Bugui went home to continue his internal calculations. Xu Wude shook his head and also strolled back to the backyard.

He Daqing didn't linger. He went back inside, carefully took off his new Zhongshan suit, hung it up, and changed into a worn cotton-padded jacket. He then pulled out an oil paper package prepared by his younger brother, He Damin, from under the kang mat—it contained half a jin of high-quality jasmine tea and two packs of "Daqianmen" cigarettes wrapped in tin foil. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and stepped out of the courtyard, heading straight for the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill outside Dongzhimen.

From afar, the towering chimneys of the steel rolling mill could be seen belching gray smoke, and the air was filled with the familiar industrial smell of rust, coal ash, and coke. He Daqing walked slowly but steadily. He didn't need to ask for directions; he walked briskly towards the factory office building. The gatekeeper was a new young man, who stopped him and asked who he was looking for.

"Excuse me, please announce that He Daqing, formerly of the cafeteria, is here to see Director Lou." He Daqing's tone was calm, carrying a long-lost confidence that belonged to his former identity.

The young doorman looked him over suspiciously for a few moments. Seeing that his clothes, though not the finest, were clean and presentable, and that his demeanor didn't seem like that of an ordinary job seeker, he went inside to inform him. A short while later, the young man came out with a smile: "Master He, Director Lou invites you in."

It was the same spacious office, but the furnishings were much simpler than I remembered. The huge mahogany desk had been replaced by an ordinary lacquered wooden table, and the landscape paintings on the walls were no longer replaced by slogans like "Develop Production, Ensure Supply." Lou Zhenhua sat behind the desk, looking down at a document. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and took off his glasses.

Their eyes met. Lou Zhenhua's gaze quickly shifted from businesslike to surprised, and then a genuine smile spread across his face.

"Daqing? It really is you!" Lou Zhenhua stood up, walked around the table, and looked He Daqing up and down. "I vaguely heard someone mention you were back a few days ago, but I didn't quite believe it... Your energy and spirit are quite different!"

He Daqing felt a warmth in his heart, but also a touch of sadness. He quickly bowed slightly and said, "Director Lou, it's me. I... I'm back."

"It's good to be back, it's good to be back!" Lou Zhenhua pulled him to sit down on the wooden sofa next to him, and personally poured him a cup of hot water. "These past years... you must have suffered a lot, right? I heard you went to Baoding?"

He Daqing chuckled awkwardly, not responding to the conversation, and gently placed the tea leaves and cigarettes he had brought on the coffee table with both hands: "It's just a small token of my appreciation, Director Lou, please don't find it offensive. I... I've come back this time because I genuinely repent and want to start anew. My younger brother is keeping an eye on me at home, so I dare not mess around anymore. I... I want to go back to the factory canteen."

Lou Zhenhua glanced at the tea leaves and cigarettes, but didn't refuse. His gaze fell on He Daqing's face, scrutinizing him while also showing concern for an old acquaintance: "Back to the canteen? Daqing, I know your skills. You have a foundation in Tan family cuisine, and you're also good at Shandong cuisine. Back when our factory hosted important guests, we relied heavily on you to make a good impression. Now that you're gone, we really haven't found anyone who can completely fill your position in the canteen's kitchen."

He paused, tapping his fingers lightly on the sofa armrest: "However, things are different now. The atmosphere has changed, and factories now consider background and history when hiring. What happened to you back then... although it was a matter of personal conduct and the factory didn't punish you, it was still dishonorable. Now, if you want to come back and take charge directly, I'm afraid..."

He Daqing's heart tightened, and he hurriedly said, "Director Lou, I understand! I don't want special treatment! I just... I just want to go back to work in the cafeteria, even if it's just starting out as a food preparation or kitchen helper! Let me have a proper job, and I promise I will put in the same effort I had when I was learning my trade, and I will never let you down or bring shame to the cafeteria! My brother... my brother also said that I should start from scratch with a down-to-earth attitude."

Hearing He Daqing mention his mysterious younger brother again, Lou Zhenhua's eyes flickered slightly. He had indeed vaguely heard the name He Damin a few times recently through various channels; he seemed to have connections with some officials in the district, and while he acted discreetly, he wielded considerable influence. If He Daqing was indeed being kept under his brother's control, then perhaps… this was a truly useful opportunity. The factory canteen, especially the private kitchen, definitely needed a truly experienced and capable chef who could command respect. In the past two years, the factory had expanded, and the number of reception duties had increased, so relying on the cooks who prepared the communal meals was simply not up to par.

Lou Zhenhua pondered, his fingers unconsciously stroking the teacup. The office fell silent for a moment, broken only by the faint hum of machinery outside the window.

Finally, he spoke: "Daqing, I know your skills and character well. Here's what we'll do: the canteen manager position is currently vacant and won't be filled anytime soon. You can come back and continue in your old role—head chef, in charge of the small kitchens and important receptions. You don't need to manage the main canteen, but you can help oversee the technical aspects. As for salary… start at the level of a senior chef, and we'll see how you perform later. What do you think?"

Head chef of the cafeteria! In charge of the special kitchen! Although this position doesn't have the same management authority as the former cafeteria director, it is a truly core technical position, the foundation of He Daqing's livelihood! He Daqing could hardly believe his ears. The huge surprise left him momentarily stunned, followed by a tidal wave of excitement and gratitude.

"Director Lou! This... what can I say! I... I will definitely live up to your trust! I will never let you down!" He Daqing's voice trembled slightly as he stood up, wanting to bow.

Lou Zhenhua waved his hand, a gentle smile on his face: "Sit down, sit down. Daqing, we've known each other for a long time. I'm glad you've seen the error of your ways and come back to work diligently. The factory needs experienced workers like you. However, I must say this first: this is a new society now, and some old rules and practices need to be changed to keep up with the times. The canteen's purchasing and ingredients must follow the new rules, and thrift and frugality are paramount. We must also be mindful of the scale of our hospitality meals and avoid extravagance."

"I understand! I understand! I will definitely follow the factory's regulations and will not do anything reckless!" He Daqing nodded repeatedly.

"Alright, come to the personnel department tomorrow to complete the resumption of work procedures, and then report directly to the canteen. I'll arrange it with the logistics department." Lou Zhenhua picked up his teacup. "Work hard, Daqing. Pick up the skills you've abandoned and make a good living."

He Daqing thanked them profusely and took his leave. Stepping out of the office building and into the crisp spring breeze, he felt the sunshine was exceptionally bright, and even the familiar industrial smell in the air seemed comforting. Head chef! He, He Daqing, could once again wield his skills on the stove! This recognition and trust was more precious than anything else. It contained the sentimental attachment of Director Lou, as well as the unseen influence of his younger brother, He Damin. He clenched his fist tightly, silently vowing that this time, he would hold on firmly and never let anyone down again.

On the way back to the hospital, my steps were much lighter. The job was settled, and with such an ideal result, a huge weight was lifted from my heart. Next, there was another important task my younger brother had entrusted to me—to find a matchmaker, go to Qin Family Village, and propose to that girl named Qin Huairu.

Thinking of this, He Daqing felt a surge of warmth in his heart, followed by a slight sense of unease. At his age, with his past… although he now had a respectable job as the head chef of the steel mill canteen, it was still a stain on his reputation. Would a girl of eighteen or nineteen, in the prime of her life and supposedly quite beautiful, be willing? His younger brother said, "Be as courteous as possible, and try to meet all the demands." It seemed that the bride price and the traditional betrothal rites would have to be generous to show sincerity. He would have to discuss this with his brother later, to see which matchmaker would be the most reliable, and how to prepare the bride price…

He walked home with a restless mind. As he passed the middle courtyard, the Jia family's window was half-open. He glimpsed Jia Dongxu slumped on the kang (a heated brick bed), staring blankly at a book on fitter's craftsmanship, his brows furrowed. Jia Zhangshi sat on the edge of the kang, sewing shoe soles, muttering to herself, probably complaining about her son's lack of ambition, or lamenting that there was no woman to tidy up the house.

He Daqing felt a strange sense of relief. The Jia family's son was of marriageable age. Back when Yi Zhonghai was alive, he'd often gone to great lengths to find a wife for his apprentice. Now that Yi Zhonghai was gone, his new master fitter probably wouldn't be like Yi Zhonghai, arranging even his apprentice's marriage. But none of this concerned him anymore. His brother had specified Qin Huairu; that girl from Qin Family Village was the one He Daqing was going to marry. Jia Dongxu? He could wait in the side.

A mixture of relief, superiority, and a hint of anticipation crept onto He Daqing's lips. Thankfully, his younger brother was back, not only taking care of him but also making such thorough plans for him. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't be as hopeful as Jia Dongxu, who was currently brooding over his books.

Back in the west wing of the backyard, He Daqing carefully took off his worn-out cotton-padded jacket and put on a more casual padded jacket. He sat on the clean edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), gazing at the darkening sky outside the window, and for the first time felt that this small wing, which he had once regarded as a symbol of shame, seemed to exude a touch of warmth.