Courtyard House: From Deputy Division Commander to Civilian, Progressing All the Way

The newspaper caused a sensation throughout the city!

In the streets and alleys, in teahouses and taverns, everyone was talking about Lou Zhenhua's astonishing act. Some said he was foolish, some said he was shrewd, but in any case, the name Lou Zhenhua instantly transformed from a bloated capitalist into a patriotic hero whom everyone admired.

The mastermind behind all of this was sitting quietly in the spacious secretary's office at the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, reviewing documents.

"Secretary Lin, brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

Zhou Zhenhua, holding the newspaper, rushed into the office with a face full of excitement, forgetting to even knock on the door.

"Lou Zhenhua, that old fox, is usually incredibly stingy, but this time he actually emptied his pockets!"

Now our factory is completely a state-owned enterprise, and there's no longer any of that messy board of directors interfering. And with that huge sum he donated, we have more than enough funds to purchase new equipment from the Soviet Union!

Lin Yang put down his pen and smiled slightly: "Old Zhou, this is the art of united front work. Turning the enemy's strength into the strength to build the country is the best strategy."

Just as the factory leaders were celebrating this huge sum of money.

Inside the courtyard at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang, however, lies a completely different scene.

Lunch break.

Yi Zhonghai sat at the stone table in the central courtyard, clutching a crumpled copy of the "Beijing Daily," his hands trembling violently.

Liu Haizhong and Yan Bugui were also standing by, their faces all looking increasingly grim.

"Old Yi, is what's written in the newspaper true?" Liu Haizhong swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "Lou Bancheng, he used to be our factory's biggest boss! How could he bear to donate all that money?"

Yi Zhonghai stared intently at the photo in the newspaper of Lou Zhenhua wearing a big red flower and shaking hands with city leaders.

With his sharp eyes, he spotted a young figure in a Zhongshan suit with a smile in the corner of the photo.

Although it was just a side profile, Yi Zhonghai recognized Lin Yang at a glance!

"It's true..." Yi Zhonghai's voice seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.

He finally understood just how terrifying the being he was facing truly was.

He originally thought Lin Yang was just a hothead who knew a little about military affairs and had been parachuted in based on his military achievements. He even fantasized that the veteran workers in the joint workshop would use their skills to manipulate Lin Yang.

But now?

They wouldn't stoop to playing those childish tricks with them in the workshop! With one move, they completely subdued the factory's biggest boss, that capitalist with connections all over Beijing, making him not only willingly hand over his entire fortune but also feel deeply grateful to them!

Even a tycoon like Lou Bancheng could only kneel down and beg for mercy and cut off his tail to survive in front of Lin Yang.

What is Yi Zhonghai, a mere eighth-grade fitter?!

"Old Yi, what... what should we do now?" Liu Haizhong was completely panicked. He didn't even dare to think about becoming the workshop director anymore; he just wanted to keep his job.

Yi Zhonghai dejectedly released his grip, letting the newspaper flutter to the ground.

He stared at the tightly closed door of the main room, his eyes filled with deep fear and despair.

"What else can we do? From now on, we'll have to keep a low profile in this yard."

And anyone who dares to provoke the Lin brothers again, I think they're just asking for death!

·······

On a weekend morning, the hutongs of Beijing exude a quiet, lively atmosphere.

The early winter wind swept along the bluestone path of Nanluoguxiang, swirling up a few withered yellow leaves. Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill had a rare day off, but for the residents of Courtyard No. 95, the air this weekend was filled with an indescribable sense of oppression.

Since Lin Yang, the 19-year-old high-ranking military officer and now the Party Secretary of the steel rolling mill, moved back to the main house in the central courtyard, the entire layout of the courtyard has been completely disrupted.

Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong, who used to sit in the courtyard with teacups in hand, pontificating in official jargon, now dare not even cough loudly. The third uncle in the front yard, Yan Bugui, sweeps the yard spotless every day before dawn, afraid of displeasing the living devil.

At this moment, in the central courtyard, in front of the main house of the Lin family, a strange and rich aroma wafted out, so strong that it made people swallow their saliva.

He Daqing, wearing a faded coarse cloth apron and holding a heavy kitchen knife, was busy at the makeshift chopping board outside the Lin family's house.

Early this morning, He Daqing carried a large carp weighing three pounds and a clean, plump hen, and knocked on Lin Yang's door.

He was a smart man, but also a worldly one. After witnessing Lin Yang's swift and decisive methods and his unfathomable background, He Daqing had only one thought in his mind: cling to this powerful patron!

"Secretary Lin, you're always busy with national affairs at the factory, so you should treat yourself to something nice this weekend. Today I'll make you an authentic Tan family dish—braised shark fin... Oh no, we can't get shark fin here, but my 'braised fatty chicken' is just as good!"

While carefully blanching the hen, He Daqing smiled broadly at Lin Yang, who was sitting on the doorstep smoking.

Lin Yang, dressed in a loose-fitting chunky knit sweater, looked relaxed. He watched He Daqing's fluid knife skills and nodded slightly.

"Old He, your skills are truly impeccable. In all of Beijing, you probably can't find many people who can handle a kitchen knife this well."

Hearing Lin Yang's praise, He Daqing was so excited that he felt light as a feather, and he worked even harder.

He placed the blanched hen into a clay pot, added pre-made broth, dried scallops, ham slices, and winter bamboo shoots, and simmered it over low heat. Before long, the rich aroma of meat and seafood wafted out from the cracks around the edge of the clay pot, forcefully filling the nostrils of everyone in the courtyard.

Next, He Daqing began to prepare the large carp. He cut it, coated it with batter, and fried it in oil.

With a sizzle, the hot oil boils and the carp is fried until golden and crispy, its tail raised high as if leaping over the dragon gate. Finally, a spoonful of sweet and sour sauce is poured over it, and a delicious "Sweet and Sour Yellow River Carp" is ready.

In less than an hour, four dishes and a soup were served on the Lin family's octagonal table.

Braised fatty chicken, sweet and sour carp, stir-fried crispy fried vegetables, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, plus a large bowl of steaming white rice.

Lin Yang's older brother, Lin Fan, sat at the table, looking at the dishes that were a hundred times more lavish than those served during the Lunar New Year, and his eyes welled up with tears again. He was now a quality inspector in the steel mill's warehouse, with an easy job and a higher position, but he knew in his heart that all of this was thanks to his younger brother.

"Brother, start eating. Tian Yu, you should eat more too," Lin Yang said to his family.