Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

These days, meat is even rarer than the Kitchen God in New Year's paintings. If the smell of meat wafts from someone's house, the whole alley will salivate.

As Jia Zhangshi lowered her head and ate her cornbread, she suddenly felt that the bland coarse grain dumpling in her hand was so tasteless that it made her choke. Bang Geng, leaning against the edge of the table, kept shouting, "I want meat! I want meat!" Jia Zhangshi's eyes lit up, and she gave him a push, "Go! Go to Sha Zhu's house and get two pieces!"

When a child comes to the door, would Sha Zhu really close the door and beat the dog?

He Yuzhu was serving soup when he looked up and saw Yushui applying face cream in front of the mirror with a smug look on her face. He casually said, "Yushui, divide this bowl of food in half and take it to the deaf old lady so they can eat together."

The raindrops blinked and crisply replied, "Okay!"

Banggeng rushed in carrying a chipped, rough porcelain bowl. He Yuzhu shoved two large, glistening pieces of pork skin into the bowl with his chopsticks, patted his head, and said, "Go back now, don't just keep thinking about your food."

In the Lou family's living room, the stove fire glowed faintly red.

Lou's mother lowered her voice: "I really didn't expect this! What is Xu Damao's mother up to? Her own son is crippled, yet she's trying to get me and Xiao'e to date first?"

Lou's father snorted coldly: "No matter what she's after, keep your distance from her in the future."

Lou Xiao'e swung her legs, her eyes sparkling: "Mom, have you considered what I mentioned the other day? We're so eager to have Uncle He's son, He Yuzhu, come and cook for us!"

Lou's mother shook her head and sighed, "Moth! What time is it, and you're still thinking about food?"

Lou's father picked up the conversation, his tone helpless: "This child, his heart is empty, his guts are straight, and all he sees are pots and pans."

In the courtyard, after several rounds of drinks, the bottom of the cups was empty.

He Yuzhu wiped his mouth and said seriously, "Third Uncle, from now on, you'll have to keep a close eye on Xu Damao for me, so he doesn't secretly trip me up."

Yan Bugui patted his chest and said, "Don't worry! I'll keep an eye on things for you. If anyone lays a finger on you, I'll give them a piece of my mind first!"

After they had eaten and drunk their fill, He Yuzhu shoved the bottle of wine he had bought into Lao Deng's hand and escorted him all the way to his doorstep.

Inside the house, Jia Zhangshi was making a plan: From now on, whenever Shazhu fries an egg or stews meat, he can have Banggeng make the trip—how ​​could she not take advantage of such a free benefit?

……

As dawn broke, He Yuzhu stepped into the space as usual. At a glance, the corn stalks stretched all the way to his waist, shining green, with dewdrops still hanging on the leaves. He felt as comfortable as if he had been filled with honey.

Wandering over to the pigpen, I saw piglets burying their heads in their food, eating the freshly cooked pig feed from the night before, munching away happily.

He Yuzhu squatted down and reached out to stroke its round back: "Eat more, a plump dog is more delicious."

Gently place the fish into the pond, the water splashes lightly, then turn and leave.

"System check-in".

"Check-in successful, cooking proficiency increased by 10%."

As I was carrying an enamel basin out to wash up, I ran into Qin Huairu.

Good morning, sister-in-law!

"Good morning! Silly Zhu."

I hopped on my bicycle and headed to the factory. The wheels rolled over the bluestone road, making a jingling sound all the way.

Workers poured into the factory one after another, took their positions, and the machines gradually roared up, thus beginning a lively day's work.

He Yuzhu stepped into the canteen, rolled up his sleeves, and prepared to knead the dough and steam the buns.

The night before, Lou Xiao'e pestered him for over half an hour, driving him crazy. Finally, after finding out he lived in the courtyard attached to the steel mill, she immediately called Director Yang. Upon learning he was the head chef in the canteen, she made the decision on the spot—to have him come over and cook a meal.

Just as they were busy preparing, Director Ye burst into the cafeteria, shouting, "Chef He! Chef He!"

As he walked, he shouted, "After get off work today, you and Xu Damao go to Director Lou's house. You cook, and he'll put on a movie—show off your skills!"

hiss……

Everyone in the room turned their heads in unison, their eyes fixed on He Yuzhu.

"Has this skill even reached the factory manager's ears?" someone clicked their tongue in amazement. "Won't it cost an extra 50 cents to hire him as the chef next time?"

In the past, Master He charged one yuan for helping with weddings and funerals. Will it rise to one yuan and fifty cents in the future?

You have to understand, he only earns 23.5 yuan a month working at the steel rolling mill. The fact that they're willing to pay him 1 yuan is already a sign of high regard.

Not to mention the Lou family's residence—it's said to be magnificent and even more impressive than the county's guesthouse; many people would stand on tiptoe to look but wouldn't be qualified to step inside.

The gap between the rich and the poor is like a taut string, with subtle discordant noises already emerging, but it hasn't snapped yet.

Now that He Yuzhu has been able to visit and broaden his horizons, everyone is counting on him to come back and tell them what the Crystal Palace is really like.

Director Ye took a breath and then instructed, "Before leaving get off work, do you need to bring any tools or prepare any ingredients? Let me know in advance to avoid being caught off guard."

He Yuzhu waved his hand: "No need, just send someone."

Ma Hua rubbed his hands together, saying, "Master, your skill is truly undeniable!"

He was genuinely convinced—his father had said that a top chef doesn't need to be picky about stoves, pots, or ingredients; he can still cook a Manchu Han Imperial Feast.

When he heard that He Yuzhu was taking on apprentices, he knelt down and kowtowed to become his disciple on the spot, even before he had worked a full three-day trial period.

For a chef, reputation is their livelihood. Of course, the prerequisite is that their skills are truly impressive.

Director Ye patted him on the shoulder, pulled him out of the canteen, and instructed him as they walked: "Today, Chef He, you'll have to do your best for this meal. Although Director Lou has stepped down, his words still carry weight, and he and our Factory Director Yang have maintained a close relationship over the years."

He Yuzhu nodded: "Don't worry, I'll put in my best effort for this meal."

But he secretly added to himself: How could he not take serving his future mother-in-law's family seriously?

Upon hearing this, Director Ye laughed heartily, becoming even more satisfied with He Yuzhu's efficient and decisive manner.

No one knows whether he will still be able to maintain this enthusiasm when he steps into the Lou family's doorstep again once the storm rises.

In China, there's an old saying that "the dinner table can decide everything"—a hot meal and a few cups of warm wine can often smooth over any difficult situation.

If your skills are superb, you'll easily pass the test with your mother-in-law; if she really wants to find fault, she'll have to think twice.

After all, the fact that the Lou family was willing to marry their daughter to Xu Damao showed that they had long been at ease. It was true that He Yuzhu came from a poor peasant family for three generations, but he was skilled with a knife, had precise control over the heat, and could serve impressive dishes. His monthly salary was fixed, so their daughter would definitely not go hungry after marrying into the family.

With the winds shifting, all the old household items, savings books, and even the enamel mugs distributed at the factory will eventually fall under the daughter's control. Unless there's a particularly difficult year, her life will be very secure.

Back in the canteen, everyone surrounded He Yuzhu, nodding and looking on with envy—to be able to cook at Director Lou's house was more than just a privilege; he'd be guaranteed meat at every meal, not to mention his wages. They secretly discussed that he'd get at least a two-yuan raise!

I heard that Director Lou and Factory Director Yang have a very close personal relationship. If he often invites Chef He to cook at their place and gives him a helping hand, his salary will probably jump up. It's already up to 34.5 yuan. If it jumps again, it might be heading for 45.6 yuan.

No, we have to quickly bring out all the unmarried cousins, sisters, and distant aunts and nieces in the village for a proper evaluation—it's a win-win situation to marry such a high-paid son-in-law!

This luck is so good it makes my heart ache with envy.

He Yuzhu knew perfectly well that this job was definitely arranged by Lou Xiao'e. So he neither trembled with excitement nor broke out in a sweat with nervousness. He simply straightened his cuffs calmly, as if he had accepted an ordinary job.

Sun, the head of the publicity department, also sent a message to Xu Damao: it's Lou's father's birthday, and relatives and friends will inevitably come to offer their congratulations. The movie screening will certainly be a lively affair.

In the steel rolling mill, Xu Damao was the most skilled at film projection, even rewinding the film without any jamming. It was said that his father taught him this skill. The older generation believed in "not easily passing on skills," and unless it was a son, they would rather lock it away in a box; a son-in-law? At most, he was half family; if there was no son-in-law, then this skill was simply lost to the wind.

Around 3 p.m., He Yuzhu had just stepped out of the workshop when a gleaming Soviet-style sedan was already parked at the factory gate.

He had just taken a step when he heard hurried footsteps behind him—Xu Damao, carrying a projector, caught up, panting.

"Comrade! Comrade, wait a minute!" he shouted while wiping the sweat from his forehead, thinking to himself: Usually when he shows a movie, people would rush to carry the equipment for him, but today, he ran into two "old men" who didn't even wait for him to turn around.

He forced a smile and approached the driver: "Section Chief Sun just assigned me the task of going to Director Lou's house to support the screening. Could you please do me a favor and give me a ride?"

He spoke politely, but in his heart he had two plans: first, to take the opportunity to make his presence known to the factory leaders; second, to show off his real skills while Lou Xiao'e was present—the job of a projectionist was respectable, easy, and lucrative, and with his silver tongue, he would have a good chance of winning over Lou Xiao'e.

He Yuzhu glanced at him, knowing full well: in the past, Xu Damao might have actually succeeded; now... it would have been a waste of time. The news that the entire publicity department had undergone physical examinations had already spread a couple of days ago—in a large factory with thousands of employees, their department was singled out for the check-up, and He Yuzhu had long since figured out the ins and outs of it.

The driver deftly opened the trunk lid and climbed into the driver's seat; He Yuzhu also calmly got into the car, and neither of them reached out to Xu Damao.

These days, drivers are highly valued and treated like royalty wherever they go, so there's no need for them to fawn over a projectionist.

As for He Yuzhu? People in the 21st century don't even look down on these old films—if you really want to watch them, go to the Red Star Cinema, buy a ticket, and sit comfortably in the back row; besides, Xu Damao is his mortal enemy, he'll exhaust you, kid!

Xu Damao gritted his teeth, laboriously stuffing the projector and tin box into the trunk, silently climbed into the back seat, and remained silent the whole way, even his breathing was extremely light.

……

Back then, cars were rare on the streets, and the workers hadn't finished their shifts yet. The roads were so wide open that horses could run across them. The car nimbly made its way around a few bends and stopped in front of a three-story gray brick villa. As guests were arriving one after another, the car didn't stop at the main entrance, but rather slowly braked at the intersection.