Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

Chen Xueru's heart sank. She didn't say anything, but a sense of grievance welled up inside her. She and he were very close, but they could never stand together openly. This secret relationship made her toss and turn at night, unable to rest.

She pinched him hard, her voice soft yet barbed: "What...what exactly is our relationship?"

"What do you think?" He Yuzhu chuckled, flipped over and pressed down on her, eliciting a soft moan from her.

In the dead of night, the yellow willow wood bed creaked softly, interspersed with the low moans of a beautiful mature woman, like a secret and alluring nocturne flowing slowly in the silence.

The next morning, He Yuzhu got up early, made breakfast for Chen Xueru, and left without lingering.

Of the 6,600 yuan he earned from selling alcohol, he set aside 3,500 yuan for Chen Xueru to buy a house, and kept the remaining 3,100 yuan for himself. He first deposited 1,000 yuan in the bank—this money was for He Yushui's future wedding expenses, and he couldn't touch a single penny of it. The remaining 2,100 yuan was the reward for Li Wangcai's group.

These guys are practically addicted to making money. They can produce thirty ginseng roots a week, and they take 450 yuan in commission from He Yuzhu alone, making almost 2,000 yuan a month—more than they earned in a whole year before! Before, they were doing dangerous business, fighting and killing, relying entirely on luck, and if they got injured or crippled, they had no choice but to accept their fate. Now, they're dealing in medicinal herbs with He Yuzhu—easy and quick money, who wouldn't be happy?

He Yuzhu didn't suffer any losses either. Besides ginseng, he also distributed some lingzhi, cordyceps, and golden thread lotus, all handled by Li Wangcai and his group. There was just one ironclad rule: no contact with officials. If you could sell them to other places, that was your skill; but if you attracted the attention of the government, don't blame them for turning their backs on you.

Later, he brought out several rare medicinal herbs with outstanding health benefits and high prices. As soon as Li Wangcai's goods appeared, they were snapped up.

Not only that, these people also found him quite a few good things: a mutton-fat white jade pendant, an icy jadeite bracelet, a Xuande censer, and a Yixing teapot from the Wanli period of the Ming Dynasty. The latter two cost seven ginseng roots to acquire, but in He Yuzhu's eyes, it was worth it. He had always loved drinking tea, and the Yixing teapot was in excellent condition, with a warm and lustrous patina, which was just what he needed.

An industrial base in Northwest China is quietly rising. The local government has discovered abundant resources and decided to build factories on the site to create a regional industrial hub.

Thousands of workers, technicians, and cadres from all over the country gathered here, working feverishly on the construction. At that time, only the old industrial zones in Northeast China could rival it. The first batch of people who signed up to help with the construction were all experienced and highly skilled workers with solid foundations, who could immediately step in and take charge.

After they arrived, they trained several thousand apprentices. Within seven or eight years, a complete industrial system was established here.

But the beginning was the hardest. The first group started almost from scratch—the factory had to be built, and the dormitories had to be constructed by themselves. Where to live? They squeezed into the countryside first.

Yi Zhonghai has only been here for a little over a month, and he spends every day on the construction site, either laying bricks or moving materials. He doesn't finish work until after 9 p.m., and when he comes back after dinner, he's too tired to even talk. This has been his daily routine for a while now.

A complete factory had to be built within six months, so we had to work like crazy. We worked fourteen or fifteen hours a day, so exhausted that even our bones were screaming.

But it was precisely this hardship that bridged the gap between everyone. The technicians and workers didn't even have the energy to argue; they would often help each other home when they returned, like a group of comrades who had survived a disaster.

Yi Zhonghai was initially able to grit his teeth and persevere, but now he's finding it increasingly difficult. Although he's considered middle-aged, he's practically fifty. His body is already sending warning signals after working at this intensity.

He thought to himself: Hurry up and build the factory so I can process parts or train apprentices! These days, carrying cement and bricks all day is really not work for people their age.

He had just returned home that day and was preparing to fetch a basin of water to wash his feet when several of his coworkers collapsed onto the floor, too exhausted to move. Just then, the village secretary knocked on the door and came in.

Is Comrade Yi Zhonghai here?

He was taken aback for a moment, then quickly replied, "Old Party Secretary, I'm here. Is there something you need?"

The old Party Secretary took a letter out of his pocket and slowly handed it over: "It was sent by the commune, but no one at the factory could receive it, so it was transferred to the village. You weren't there that day, so I kept it for now and brought it to you today."

Yi Zhonghai took the letter and hurriedly expressed his gratitude: "Thank you so much, old Party Secretary, for making the special trip..."

"Don't mention it. You've come all the way from a big city to help us. This is nothing. Get some rest, I won't bother you any longer."

After saying that, the old Party Secretary turned and left.

Yi Zhonghai walked to the lamp and, by the dim light, opened the letter from home. A quick glance at the sender's address told him it was from Shufen—she'd only been away from home for a little over a month, why was she in such a hurry to write?

The further he read, the darker his face became, and his fingertips turned blue. When he saw the last line—"An old woman adopted a child and named him Yi Zhiliang"—he clenched the letter tightly, and his face instantly turned ashen.

If he had only adopted a child, he would have been annoyed at most, blaming the old woman for acting on her own initiative and not knowing her place. But the letter casually mentioned that the idea came from He Yuzhu!

This immediately ignited the powder keg in his heart.

Compared to this, what's so trivial about Jia Dongxu's mother? In his eyes, He Yuzhu had no good intentions whatsoever! First, he stabbed him in the back, kicking him to the Northwest for aid work, and then he instigated his wife to adopt a child—who knows if that "Yi Zhiliang" was someone he had already chosen? He was plotting to seize the Yi family's property; what a shrewd scheme!

But now he's thousands of miles away, helpless. What can he do besides write back? Even if he does, he might not be able to stop the old woman. He knows that once that old lady is made up her mind, not even nine oxen could pull her back.

To make matters worse, although his salary was deposited monthly, she controlled all the family savings and the company seal. Even if he didn't send a single penny, she could still raise that child to be healthy and chubby.

"Old Yi, what's wrong? Did something happen at home?"

A coworker next to him saw that his face was pale and the veins on the back of his hands were bulging, and couldn't help but ask.

At this time, Yi Zhonghai had only been there for less than two months. In the eyes of this group of people, he was the kind of steady, reliable, and responsible older brother figure. Everyone respected him and got along well with him.

Hearing the question, he forced a smile and said, "It's nothing, just some trivial matters at home..."

He then stuffed the letter into his pocket. Family scandals shouldn't be aired in public, especially something as sensitive as having no offspring.

But this incident had a huge impact on him. He wished he could sprout wings and fly back to Beijing immediately to kick that bastard named "Yi Zhiliang" out the door—he didn't want to acknowledge anyone or anything related to He Yuzhu!

After much deliberation, and standing in the night wind for half the night, he finally pulled his roommate, Old Xu, aside to a quiet spot outside to discuss a few things. Old Xu was quite capable; although younger than him, he had arrived six months earlier, was an eighth-grade worker, and was the team leader for their group, so his words carried weight.

As soon as they stepped outside, Yi Zhonghai cut to the chase: "Captain Xu, I'd like to ask, when exactly are we supposed to be able to go back?"

"Go back?" Xu Zelin frowned. "You've only been here a month and you already want to leave? Are you deserting?"

His tone turned cold. He knew Old Yi might be facing difficulties at home, but who doesn't have their share of hardships? When the country is building, who isn't gritting their teeth and persevering? If everyone runs away at the first sign of trouble, what's the point of building anything?

This is not just his idea, but the main theme of the entire era.

Upon hearing this, Xu Zelin immediately put on a stern face, showing no leniency even though the other party was older.

"No, no!" Yi Zhonghai hurriedly waved his hands. "I don't want to run away, it's just that there's an emergency at home. Could I ask for leave and go back?"

You can't wear that hat. Once you're labeled as "deserting in the face of battle," you'll never be able to turn things around.

Xu Zelin's expression softened slightly, but he immediately shook his head: "Take leave? Basically no chance. Apart from sick leave, there's one day off per week on a rotating basis, and only the four-day holiday during the Chinese New Year."

He paused, then added, "You're from Beijing, right? It takes five or six days to get there and back, and your annual leave simply isn't enough."

"I suggest you report the situation to your supervisor."

"We are aid workers, and the organization has a responsibility to help take care of your family. The neighborhood committee will handle everything, big or small. Look at me, my dad broke his leg before the Lunar New Year, and the neighborhood committee directly contacted the hospital, arranged a caregiver, and even gave him a nutritional allowance. If I had gone home to handle it, I probably wouldn't have been as efficient as them."

The meaning is clear: for those who live nearby, it's okay to make a round trip during the annual leave; but for someone like you who lives far away in Beijing, you should give up on this idea as soon as possible.

Overstaying your visa? That's desertion!

"This matter..."

Yi Zhonghai's lips were stiff and his face turned bright red.

How could he go to the neighborhood committee? If this gets out, it's like exposing his family's secrets to everyone—especially that "adopted son" introduced by He Yuzhu, how could he possibly say that?

Is it true that he suspects He Yuzhu of having ulterior motives? That he helped his family adopt a child in order to seize their family's assets? Is it true that his trip to the Northwest for reconstruction was not voluntary, but rather that he was secretly framed by He Yuzhu?

...Alright, let's discuss it with our family first.

Yi Zhonghai sneered inwardly, deciding to try and persuade the older woman again. If asking for leave was out of the question, he'd write a few more letters; as for returning to Beijing—he'd already found out when he arrived that the construction period here would be at least ten years, meaning he couldn't expect to go back anytime soon.

Seeing this, Xu Zelin advised, "Old Yi, if you really have difficulties, just tell the leaders, and the organization will help solve your family problems."

"I know what I'm doing," Yi Zhonghai sighed. "If we really can't hold on any longer, it's not too late to bother the country."

Upon hearing this, Xu Zelin was immediately filled with respect—such awareness was truly rare! He promptly slapped his forehead and apologized, "Old Yi, I was a bit harsh just now, I'm sorry..."

"It's alright, Captain Xu. You're just worried about work, I won't hold it against you." He paused, then added softly, "By the way, could I borrow some paper and pen? I want to write a letter home."

"No problem, I'll get it for you right away!" Xu Zelin went to search without saying a word.