Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

"Pillar, I really didn't mean that..."

"Alright, I don't want to know what you mean." He Yuzhu rubbed his temples. "I've been busy all day, my bones are aching. Is there anything else?"

The middle-aged woman choked on her words, her throat tightened, and she lowered her head, rubbing her hands before silently turning and walking away.

"Yuzhu, what happened?"

Lou Xiao'e returned less than twenty minutes earlier than him. She had just lit the stove when she bumped into an old woman coming out, looking disheveled and confused.

"Jia Dongxu from next door got his legs caught in a machine tool in the workshop and is still in the operating room. Qin Huairu just rushed over to check on him. That old lady from earlier probably wanted us to lend a hand and look after her two kids..."

Lou Xiao'e was stunned, then sighed softly, "Amputation... What will we do then? The whole family is probably going to be plunged into misery, Zhu Zi..."

"Stop." He Yuzhu raised his hand to stop her. "Xiao'e, are you trying to take advantage again? You're too soft-hearted. You've done too many good deeds, and you're easily swayed. Do you remember what I told you last time?"

"Remember……"

"That's enough. Some people deserve a helping hand, some deserve a lifetime of help, and in the end, all you get is a blow to the head. You can give your heart and soul for decades, but when you're old, sick, and useless, they won't even let you in the door."

He paused, his tone softening slightly: "If you really want to help, then persuade the neighborhood committee to step in and coordinate; don't get involved yourself. The factory is discussing a compensation plan, there's definitely enough money to survive, and life won't be any worse than those on welfare in the alley—the steel rolling mill is a well-known factory in Beijing, with benefits that others can't even dream of."

That's no exaggeration. Take the canteen for example. They serve three dishes and a soup every day, a balanced mix of meat and vegetables. The menu is posted on the wall, and even people from other factories will stand on tiptoe to take a look when they pass by. Good profits mean good benefits. He Yuzhu traded a few bunches of vegetables for an enamel basin, coal coupons, and strips of cured meat, which are still piled up in the corner untouched.

In her past life, Qin Huairu worked as a temporary worker in a factory. She didn't even get a permanent position, but she still earned 27.5 yuan a month, which was more than enough to support her family of five.

"Why is it so scary? Helping for decades and still not grateful, isn't that the act of a beast?" Lou Xiao'e glanced at him sideways, a disbelieving smile on her lips.

He Yuzhu didn't reply. Some things are better left unsaid. In his past life, he had devoted himself to his family, only to be kicked out in his old age, without even a decent cotton-padded coat left behind.

"There are all sorts of strange things in the world; maybe one of them lives right across the street." He rolled up his sleeves, reaching his forearms. "Anyway, what's for dinner tonight?"

"I love everything you make. Oh, and I've brought the timber in; it's piled up by the entrance to the main room."

"Okay, I'll draw a design tonight, and Old Wang will saw the boards tomorrow morning."

He wanted to make a makeshift bed for He Daqing and Widow Bai. It would be simple in structure; Old Wang would cut the materials, and he could just hammer in a few nails when he got back. After He Daqing left, it could be disassembled and reassembled, taking up little space. A metal frame bed would be easier, but finding the materials would be time-consuming, and he didn't have any at home.

Dinner was served quickly, and Lou Xiao'e invited He Yushui over as well. The three of them sat around the small square table, enjoying the hot soup and dishes.

At this moment, in the surgical ward of the Third People's Hospital, Jia Dongxu finally opened his eyes.

"Where am I...?"

Qin Huairu was dozing off on the edge of the bed when she heard the noise and sat up abruptly: "Dongxu! You're awake? Are you in pain?"

"What... what happened to me? Is this a hospital?"

He stared at the stark white ceiling, the numbness still lingering in his body, when a piercing pain surged up in an instant.

Qin Huairu's eyes reddened, and her voice trembled: "You had an accident at the factory... This is the Third People's Hospital."

Something happened...

His mind went blank for a moment, and memories flooded back—the roaring lathe, his left hand slipping, his right leg caught in the tangled mess… Cold sweat instantly soaked his back. He grabbed Qin Huairu's wrist: “Where’s my leg? I can’t feel anything! Help me sit up, let me see!”

"Dongxu, please don't move around. The doctor just told you that the surgery went smoothly, but your leg..."

Qin Huairu's voice trembled, her eyes were red, and she choked out, "I'm afraid I'll never be able to stand up again."

"How is that possible..."

Jia Dongxu's heart sank suddenly, as if it had been gripped tightly by an iron clamp. Of course he believed her—the excruciating pain in the instant before she lost consciousness, the dull thud of metal scraping against bone, the warmth of blood seeping through her trouser legs… all of it was etched in his mind. Her legs were most likely lost.

Qin Huairu took a soft breath and asked, "Dongxu, are you hungry? I got a bowl of millet porridge from the cafeteria; it's warm. Want a couple of sips?"

My stomach rumbled loudly. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything since the incident that morning. The mere mention of food made my throat ache and my stomach burn with a sharp, twisting pain.

She quickly brought over a bowl of porridge, which was slightly cool but thick, with rice oil floating on top. It was still warm in her hands. She fed it to him spoonful by spoonful, and he slowly swallowed it, feeling a long-lost warmth in his throat.

After feeding the porridge, Qin Huairu quietly recounted the events of the morning when the people from the steel mill came, repeating exactly what Director Zhang had said.

She didn't say a word about He Yuzhu. Bringing him up now would only anger Jia Dongxu—he'd just been stabbed and was still weak; he couldn't take any anger out on him.

"Dongxu, what are we going to do now? The factory leaders are coming to see you in the hospital first thing tomorrow morning..."

Jia Dongxu remained silent, staring blankly at the ceiling. In this state, supporting a family? Forget about it. Even if the factory lost money, no matter how high the pile of copper coins reached, it would eventually run out.

After a long pause, he finally spoke in a hoarse voice: "Huairu, do you... have any other thoughts in your mind?"

"Me? What thoughts could I possibly have! Dongxu, aren't you the one making all the decisions, big and small, at home?"

"I mean..." He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, "The Jia family is in dire straits right now. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. Keep the stick, it belongs to the Jia family; the rest, you can choose, I'll give you everything."

His voice was low and flat, like a block of ice hitting the ground.

Qin Huairu suddenly looked up, her eyes instantly welling up with tears: "Dongxu! What nonsense are you talking about? You think I'd just abandon you at a time like this? Banggeng is a piece of my flesh, you're my man, and I'll hold this family together no matter what!"

The ashen gloom on his face eased slightly. After a moment of silence, he slowly said, "Then I'll talk to the factory tomorrow—I'll let you take my place at the steel rolling mill."

"Me...go to the factory?" Qin Huairu's heart suddenly raced, both shocked and burning. How precious was the status of a worker! But then she thought, who would take care of the child? Who would look after Dongxu? Her heart pounded with anxiety.

"Dongxu, if I really go to the steel rolling mill, what will happen to my family?"

"I'll figure it out. You just need to get a job in the factory. Without a stable job, this family will fall apart sooner or later."

His face remained somber, as if weighed down by a leaden cloud. The words "lifelong disability" pierced his heart like a knife—if he had known, he would never have tried to save that half a step by recklessly stepping over the running lathe to pick up the wrench; even if he had to pick it up, he should have pulled the switch, stopped the machine, and then bent down... But at that moment, his mind went blank.

"Let this old lady help out for a couple of days. Be sweet-talking and say a few nice things..."

"Yes, I know." Qin Huairu nodded, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Once Jia Dongxu was fast asleep, she quietly lay down on the bed next to him. The wind was whistling outside the window, but she tossed and turned, unable to sleep—half a wall of the Jia family's house had collapsed, but she actually had a real chance to get a job at the factory.

In the past, Dongxu would give her fifteen yuan a month to help with household expenses, and he would pay for all the meat and vegetables. If she could get a job in the factory, even if she only earned thirty yuan, she could immediately live a more comfortable life.

She didn't know how long she endured before finally falling into a deep sleep on another empty hospital bed. With fewer people hospitalized at the end of the year, the nurses relented and allowed her to use the bed as a makeshift berth, as long as she cleaned it up properly when she left.

The next day, almost everyone in the courtyard knew about Jia Dongxu's affair.

First, Qin Huairu didn't come home all night, and Banggeng and Xiaodang were being looked after by an old lady; second, Liu Haizhong started making a fuss in the yard—he works at the steel rolling mill, and yesterday afternoon, the workshop director kept nagging about the safety regulations, so he paid attention and found out that Jia Dongxu had indeed had an accident.

After returning to the hospital, he couldn't contain himself and told everyone he met, especially his neighbors who worked at the factory. He repeated the words "be careful" over and over again, thoroughly enjoying the experience of conveying the message.

But with Qin Huairu gone and only the two children at home, he couldn't very well hold a large-scale meeting for the entire hospital.

He Yuzhu didn't respond to his comment at all. He quickly washed up in the morning, grabbed his enamel mug, and went out.

The factory-wide dinner will proceed as planned. Indeed, to cancel the entire factory dinner because of a workplace injury? Thousands of people would be furious. If it's really canceled, the unrest among the staff would be even harder to manage than the accident itself.

Once in the office, He Yuzhu buried himself in his work. The end of the year was busy; he had to run back and forth to seven or eight different departments just for logistics and scheduling.

After a short while, Factory Director Yang, Deputy Factory Director Jiang, and Director Zhang from the same workshop pushed open the door and came in together.

After asking a few questions, Factory Director Yang went straight to the point: "Director He, have the meal tickets been printed yet?"

"It's printed. This afternoon, we'll distribute it to the heads of each department, two copies per person."

This time, the ticket clearly stated: one meat dish and one vegetable dish. The meat dish was increased by an ounce, and the vegetable dish was also stir-fried with lard. When it was served, it was a truly substantial half-meat, half-vegetarian meal, exactly the right amount.

Factory Director Yang nodded and said, "Give me two tickets. We'll go to the hospital to see Jia Dongxu later, and while we're at it, we'll settle his salary and year-end bonus in advance, and bring the meal tickets with us too."

"Okay."

He Yuzhu responded and went out, found the logistics officer, took two tickets, and handed them to Director Yang with both hands.

After seeing off several leaders, Deputy Factory Director Jiang Shouqin suddenly turned around, a half-smile on his face: "Director He, aren't you going to go and see what's going on? I heard Jia Dongxu is your next-door neighbor—if something happens to your neighbor, you're always so helpful, you should at least show your face, right?"

Upon hearing this, He Yuzhu felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, as if he had stepped into a stinking ditch. Before Director Yang could even open his mouth, he leaned forward, his voice cold and hard: "Deputy Director Jiang, you draw the line—how should I express my opinion? Come on, tell me your plan, I'm all ears."

"How would I know..."

"You don't know? Then why are you even speaking? Just throwing out questions without offering solutions, are you trying to muddy things up and watch the show?" He paused, then raised an eyelid. "To put it bluntly, what you're doing is making things worse, not helping."