Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

"I finished the pills a long time ago, the box is empty, but there's still no effect."

Yu Li's voice was a little strained: "Shouldn't we go to the hospital for a checkup? We've been dragging this on for so long, we can't keep going like this, can we?"

"I'm not going!" Xu Damao immediately waved his hand. "If you want to go, go by yourself. I've been so busy these past few days that I'm practically running around like a headless chicken."

He was somewhat relieved to hear that He Yuzhu's wife hadn't gotten pregnant either; but when he later learned that they had deliberately delayed trying, he felt like he was being choked. Now that he heard they had actually taken action, Xu Damao couldn't sit still—he had to prove them wrong, at least make sure his child was born first!

"Alright, enough talk, let's get down to business!"

Before he could finish speaking, he grabbed Yu Li and pulled her into the inner room. Unfortunately, all his efforts were in vain.

Back then, entertainment was scarce. At night, besides listening to the radio crackling, the only other "serious business" for the couple was trying to conceive.

For most people, it only takes three to five minutes. But someone like He Yuzhu, who does it five or six times a day, lasting more than twenty minutes each time, without changing his expression, is nowhere else in the country.

Lou Xiao'e was always exhausted after each ordeal, ending up limp as a fish out of water, gasping for breath. Lately, she's been gritting her teeth and enduring it, never refusing no matter how tired she is—hoping that one day she'll have a stroke of good luck.

He Yuzhu felt refreshed and energetic, and his steps were light and brisk the next day when he went to work.

"Director He, do you have a moment? The boss would like to see you."

A few days later, He Yuzhu was squatting in his office counting the rice, flour, and oil used for the banquet when Zhang Tianyang from the Foreign Affairs Bureau suddenly pushed the door open and came in.

Two days ago, it was him who stole the wooden bust of the He family's leader.

"Did the boss say anything?" He Yuzhu asked as he stood up.

Zhang Tianyang shook his head: "He didn't go into details, but it's definitely a good thing—the statue will definitely be returned to you."

"Let's go, I'll go right now." He casually wrote a leave slip and handed it to the logistics department clerk: "Give this to Deputy Factory Director Jiang for me."

"Thank you, sir. Shall I head back now?"

"Go back now, stop grinning like an idiot. The leader said the calligraphy is ordinary, nothing special, just something you like."

"Great calligraphy! I'll have it carved onto the base of that statue later!"

He Yuzhu smiled broadly. Today's trip to the Ministry of Foreign Trade was worthwhile—the statue was back, along with a calligraphy piece personally inscribed by the leader: the four characters "Patriotic Comrade" were vigorous and powerful, and the signature and seal were all present.

This was tantamount to stamping He Yuzhu and Lou's family with a golden seal: a patriotic family, set in stone. From now on, if anyone dared to bring up Lou Xiao'e's capitalist background, He Yuzhu could easily slap them senseless.

No matter how strong the wind blows, it won't reach her; as for his class background, it's not even worth mentioning.

"Xiao He, when you have time, why don't you sculpt a bust of the leader? He really likes your craftsmanship; he held it in his hands and looked at it for a long time, and even asked me where he could buy one of your sculptures—haha..."

Leader Zhang laughed heartily, and He Yuzhu grinned as well, replying, "Of course! In the past, I carved a lot of woodwork, and the two most sought-after pieces were busts of leaders and reliefs of famous scenic spots in Beijing; but the latter was too time-consuming, taking three or four days to carve just one window... Don't worry, I'll get started on this right away."

"Okay, I won't keep you any longer, go back now."

He Yuzhu nodded, turned and left, and Zhang Tianyang immediately got up to see him off. This director of the Foreign Affairs Bureau had now truly become He Yuzhu's personal driver, and even the car keys were practically worn smooth from carrying them around.

As I walked out of the Ministry of Foreign Trade building, the light was already dim, and the streetlights were turning on one after another; it was rush hour.

Zhang Tianyang drove He Yuzhu all the way to the entrance of the courtyard house in Nanluoguxiang, waved goodbye, and then turned the car around and drove away.

Just as He Yuzhu stood in front of the courtyard gate, a green mail van screeched to a halt. The postman jumped off, holding the handlebars with one hand and waving an envelope in the other, calling out, "He Yuzhu? Is Comrade He Yuzhu here?"

He quickly went to greet him: "Comrade, it's me! Do you have my letter?"

The postman looked him up and down and asked, "Are you really Comrade He Yuzhu?"

"Yes, look—" He deftly pulled out his steel rolling mill work ID, the red stamp and blue lettering clearly visible, and handed it over for verification. The other person glanced at it, quickly handed him a pen, he signed his name, and took the thin letter.

As soon as he entered the courtyard, in the warm yellow light of the lamplight under the eaves, he looked down at the envelope: sent from Baoding. It must be from He Daqing.

The lights were already on inside, and warmth seeped out through the cracks in the door, casting a soft glow even on the window paper.

Before, when he pushed open the door, the house was cold and desolate, the stove was icy cold, and the light cord hung limply with no one pulling it; now, as soon as he reached the steps, he could hear the kettle bubbling, the spatula clattering, and that familiar aroma of scallion oil—home had truly become warm.

"Xiao'e, I'm back!"

As usual, he pushed open the door and called out. Lou Xiao'e, who was reclining in a wicker chair listening to the storyteller, stood up in response, her apron still tied around her waist: "Oh, you're practically flying today! I just stepped in, and you're right behind me..."

"I didn't go to the factory this afternoon, I went to the foreign trade department instead. Xiao'e, guess what good stuff I brought back? Let me show it to you!"

He gently placed the scarf and the wooden bust of the leader on the octagonal table, then took out a piece of plain white Xuan paper from his pocket, spread it out with both hands, and laid it steadily in the center of the table.

"Xiao'e, look at this."

Lou Xiao'e leaned closer for a look, her eyes widening suddenly: "Comrade Patriot... is this the leader's handwriting? Zhu Zi, is this really written for you?"

"That's right! When Dad and I were in Hong Kong, we helped with a few important tasks. The government wanted to award us, and I didn't want anything else, I just specifically asked for this calligraphy—and they actually approved it."

He Yuzhu chuckled and patted the corner of the table: "Xiao'e, tomorrow when you have some free time, pick out a piece of top-quality rosewood or padauk? Never mind, I'll go to Liulichang tonight and get the glass made while I'm at it. I'll cook when I get back."

"Go ahead, I'll watch the stove." Lou Xiao'e rolled up her sleeves, her tone firm. "My cooking skills may not be as good as yours, but I've been preparing every meal for the family for the past six months. I can't fool anyone, but I'm not doing anything shameful either."

"Okay, I'll be back in an hour at most."

Before he finished speaking, he had already hopped on his bicycle, pedaled, and sped into the depths of the alley. Wood and glass weren't hard to find; with his current skills, he could have everything ready in half an hour.

As he stepped into the courtyard carrying his things, Lou Xiao'e was stir-frying vegetables, while He Yushui was squatting in front of the stove adding firewood, the flames making her face glow.

"Brother, where did you go? What are you buying all this for?"

"It's for mounting calligraphy. You'll understand in a bit."

He rolled up his sleeves and got to work, shavings flying everywhere, mortise and tenon joints fitting together, and in less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a dignified and elegant ebony framed with glass stood on the table. After applying the final coat of varnish, he placed it under the eaves to dry in the shade.

Just as they finished tidying up, He Yushui jumped over, clutching the letter, her eyes sparkling: "Brother! Dad's coming home for Chinese New Year this year! The letter said—he'll arrive on the 29th of the lunar year, bringing Aunt Bai along! He might have to leave on the second day of the new year..."

"Oh? He really wrote it? I even told him not to bother writing letters once he got back, but he's been writing more diligently than he's walking..."

"He also said that he wanted to take Aunt Bai to Taoranting Park on the morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year, and visit their old neighbors along the way..."

After He Yushui finished reading, she looked up and asked, "Brother, are we still spending the New Year in that courtyard near Zhengyangmen this year?"

"Well, I'm not going there." He Yuzhu casually wiped away some wood shavings and changed the subject. "I'll clear out the study, tidy it up—once the door is installed, I'll move in a bed, and there will be more than enough room for two people."

Chen Xueru often stayed at the two-courtyard house near Zhengyang Gate. When they actually bumped into each other, Lou Xiao'e's expression turned sour, and her words were harsh.

"Besides, there are a lot of old things piled up over there, and we didn't have time to clear them out before the New Year. We'll just stay in our courtyard house this year; it'll be more peaceful."

He Yushui believed it to be true and turned around to take the letter to Lou Xiao'e to share the good news.

Before long, the food was served: the braised potato slices were glistening and fragrant, the braised beef was thick and chewy, the spicy and sour cabbage was so crisp that it made people gasp for air, the cornmeal porridge was thick, moist, and warming, and the plump white steamed buns were soft and fluffy.

As soon as He Yuzhu and He Yushui sat down, she brought out two bottles of orange soda—all rare items that He Yuzhu had brought back from Hong Kong Island, which were only allowed to be drunk at home.

Outside? He Yushui still had Beibingyang soda in his pocket, five cents a bottle, and he drank it with a straight face.

After finishing his meal, He Yuzhu wiped his mouth and rode his bicycle to Old Wang's house. During the day, when he was on the phone with the deputy director of the Sijiucheng Furniture Factory, he casually mentioned the recruitment matter, and thought he could help Old Wang out.

"Uncle Wang, are you home?"

He raised his hand and knocked on the door three times. As soon as he pushed the door open, the aroma of food filled the room, and Old Wang's family of four were sitting around the square table, eating rice.

As soon as Old Wang saw him, he jumped up without even putting down his chopsticks: "Zhu Zi's here? Have you eaten yet?"

He Yuzhu waved his hand: "I just finished eating, Uncle Wang. I've come today to tell you some good news."

Upon hearing this, Old Wang quickly put his chopsticks down on the rim of his bowl and leaned forward: "Zhu Zi, just say what you mean, let's not beat around the bush!"

"I'm not asking for your help, I'm giving you an opportunity—the furniture factory is short of an apprentice who can start after the New Year. There's also a skills assessment in June. After five months of training, if you pass, you'll definitely be able to wear the Level 3 carpenter's badge."

Old Wang's lips trembled, and it took him a long time to squeeze out a sentence: "Zhu Zi, I..."

"Uncle Wang, I know your situation. Although life is a bit easier now, the wood carving business is still tough at the end of the year. Having a stable job gives you peace of mind. As for the carving work—let the two young men take over and practice; they might be even more skilled than you were back then."

Upon hearing this, Old Wang's eyes instantly reddened. He suddenly raised his hand and slapped his two sons twice on the shoulders, his voice trembling: "Hurry up and kneel down! Kowtow! This is our family's benefactor!"

"Oh, Uncle Wang, that kind of kowtowing isn't common these days! Alright, alright, I just came to give you a heads-up—I'll take care of things after the New Year, you can't go wrong!"

Before he could finish speaking, he caught the two little heads that were about to kneel down, lifted them up with his arms, turned around and walked out, waving his hand as he went: "Go back inside and eat, the food will get cold and hurt your stomach!"

He Yuzhu left Old Wang's courtyard and walked briskly back to his own home. After entering the house, he listened to the radio with Lou Xiao'e and He Yushui for a while. "Ode to the Red Plum Blossom" was playing on the radio, its melody clear and bright. Seeing that the sky outside the window was getting quite dark, he yawned and got up to rest.