Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

He turned and went into the kitchen, lowering his voice to add, "Don't forget what I said this morning—just smile when you go up there, don't interrupt, don't complain, and definitely don't bring up those trivial things from the factory. They're here to eat, not to listen to your woes."

"Come on, fill up Master He's cup!"

The high-ranking leader gestured to the orderly beside him with a gesture as natural as if he were calling out to the neighbor's child.

Despite being in power, he showed no condescension and never slighted the cook.

Let me raise a toast to you first!

He picked up his glass, tilted his head back and downed it in one gulp, the glass facing upwards, a warm smile on his face.

He Yuzhu remained composed, neither overly confident nor overly reserved, and simply raised his glass firmly: "It's my turn to toast you!"

He drank it all in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, the alcohol went down his throat, but his eyes became even clearer.

The senior leader patted him on the shoulder with a smile: "Just now, Xiao Yang kept trying to smooth things over for you, saying, 'Young people are like that, their skills aren't very good, please be understanding'—but this taste is clearly the work of a master chef!"

The moment his tongue touched the twice-cooked pork, a familiar salty, savory, and spicy aroma surged into the depths of his memory—the sound of an iron wok sizzling at the entrance of his childhood alley, the fragrance of fermented soybean paste wafting from the courtyard on summer nights as a palm-leaf fan swayed. A sense of relief washed over him, and the weariness that had been weighing on his brow quietly dissipated.

After finishing his drink, He Yuzhu quietly retreated to the kitchen and sat there waiting for the meal to end. Today was much more relaxed than in the cafeteria; there were hardly any oil splatters or beads of sweat, leaving him feeling quite at ease.

After the meal, everyone got up to say goodbye, and Director Yang was also driven away in a special car.

After he got into the car and was jolted home, he suddenly slapped his thigh: "Oh no! Where's Xiao He?!"

He hurriedly dialed the phone, but before he could even speak, Aunt Li exclaimed in surprise, "Oh dear—Xiao He is still squatting in the kitchen!"

Aunt Li lifted the kitchen curtain and immediately saw He Yuzhu still sitting in the same spot, his back straight and his hands neatly placed on his knees.

"Hey Xiao He, what are you doing sitting here like an idiot?"

"Director Yang instructed us to go back to the kitchen and sit down after cooking, without wandering around, asking questions, or speaking out of turn," he answered earnestly, as if reciting a factory rule.

The high-ranking leader strolled over upon hearing the noise, leaned against the doorframe, and couldn't help but laugh out loud: "What a mess! I'll give Xiao Yang a good talking-to tomorrow—he's still starving here!"

He waved, "Aunt Li, heat up the leftovers so Xiao He can have something to eat before he leaves."

He Yuzhu quickly waved his hand: "No need to trouble the big leader, I just want to take some back with my sister."

The leader felt a surge of warmth in his heart—these days, not many families can afford to eat meat every day, and his concern for his sister only made him seem more honest and kind.

"A big boss?" He suddenly paused, taken aback. "Didn't Xiao Yang tell you who I am?"

"He didn't say anything," He Yuzhu shook his head. "He just told me to cook, talk less, and do more."

"Okay." The big boss nodded, then turned and instructed, "Xiao Zhang, once Aunt Li has finished packing, you personally take Xiao He home."

"Okay!"

"Is working in your factory particularly tiring?"

"Work hard, roll up your sleeves and get to work, and life will get brighter every day!" He Yuzhu's voice was clear and bright. "Labor is the most glorious thing—that's what the leader said."

He said he was "tired," but what industry isn't gritting its teeth and persevering these days? Being able to eat well, sleep soundly, and have hope for the future is already a great blessing. Does he really have to complain to his superiors about being poor and struggling? Wouldn't that make him a laughingstock?

The top leader listened and nodded silently.

A short while later, Aunt Li came out carrying two oil paper bags, smiling and saying, "What are you chatting about? I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting so long today."

"Thank you, Auntie!" He Yuzhu took the paper package and smiled, "Our factory just closed, so this is perfect timing. What's so hard about it? I got to eat meat today, I'm really happy!"

"Xiao Zhang!" the senior leader called out loudly, "Take Xiao He home!"

"Yes, sir!" The orderly snapped to attention, his salute sharp and precise, then turned and walked to He Yuzhu's side, his voice humble: "Comrade, please come with me."

The two passed through the hanging flower gate and walked out of the vermilion gate.

Upon seeing that it was a leader's vehicle, the sentry at the gate gave a brief salute and waved for it to pass.

At this moment, the courtyard was filled with the aroma of dinner cooking. Workers returned home in twos and threes as their bells rang, and the smoke and laughter mingled and rose in the twilight.

Outside the courtyard gate, a group of children were running and chasing each other, their schoolbags slung over their backs, their laughter shattering the setting sun.

"Beep—Beep beep!"

The sound of car horns pierced the noise, and in an instant, the entire alley came alive.

The children swarmed around, standing on tiptoe and peering through the car windows, chattering excitedly:

"Wow! It looks like a little car!"

"That's the kind of car my dad, the factory manager, drives!"

"I touched the steering wheel! It was chilly!"

As soon as Uncle Erda turned into the courtyard, Liu Guangfu followed behind him, bouncing around non-stop.

"Dad! Dad! Look, look—a toy car!" Liu Guangfu broke free and rushed forward.

The second uncle turned around and saw the passenger door being pushed open.

He Yuzhu leaned out, and as soon as his feet touched the ground, he smiled and nodded at him:

"This is it, thank you, comrade!"

He Yuzhu said "Thanks" softly, then opened the car door and jumped out nimbly as soon as his feet touched the ground.

"Oh my god—Silly Zhu?!"

Second Uncle was stunned, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

When did this kid get to ride in such a gleaming, impressive car? The body lines are so straight, the paint is so reflective—it's clearly a factory car reserved for employees! Could it be… that Sha Zhu really got a leadership position?

"What kind of lucky star has this silly Zhu run into lately?"

Uncle Er clicked his tongue and looked He Yuzhu up and down. The more he looked, the more unfamiliar he seemed. His clothes were neat, his brows were steady, and even his steps had a weight to them. It was as if someone had quietly taken away his impetuousness overnight.

Uncle Er stepped closer and asked in a low voice, "Shazhu, where did you come from? Did you have to go to the trouble of being driven back to the alley entrance?"

He Yuzhu only vaguely replied, "Nothing," and before he finished speaking, he had already stepped into the yard.

Uncle Er was unwilling to give up and wanted to ask a few more questions, but he saw He Yuzhu's back flash and turn into the doorway. He could only stand there, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his clothes, his brows furrowed.

Liu Haizhong had been wielding a wrench in the factory for over ten years, his fingernails stained with stubborn grease, and all he did was remain a level five fitter! In terms of seniority and skill, he should have been promoted long ago…

As soon as He Yuzhu stepped into the gate of Zhongyuan, he smelled the sweet aroma of steaming coarse grains.

He Yushui was squatting in front of the stove, lifting the pot lid. The white steam made her squint. She was holding half a cabbage stalk in her hand, wondering whether to stew cabbage or braise potatoes tonight.

"Brother! You're just in time again today?" She looked up and smiled, her forehead glistening with sweat.

"I'm back now!" He Yuzhu said as he untied his apron. "This afternoon, Director Yang asked me to go to his house to help prepare a meal."

"Did you bring any good food?" Her eyes lit up, and she reached out to take the aluminum lunchbox he was carrying.

"Wow! Twice-cooked pork!" She lifted the lid, revealing glistening slices of pork with alternating layers of fat and lean meat. Her nose twitched, and she almost drooled. "Is the cafeteria serving meat today?"

"The cafeteria? I cooked this myself!" He Yuzhu hadn't even finished speaking—

She had already picked up a trembling piece of fat, stuffed it into her mouth, and chewed it noisily, saying indistinctly, "Brother, have you eaten yet? I'll get a bowl and take it to Grandma!" She knew in her heart who her brother cared about most.

"No!" He Yuzhu said with a smile, stopping her. "I'm saving it so we can eat it together while it's still warm."

He Yushui loves this fatty meat the most—it's oily, fragrant, and filling; one bite can keep you going for half a day.

He Yuzhu took the lunchbox and placed it on the stove to heat it up. The aluminum box was thick and shiny, and it didn't deform even when it got very hot.

After heating it thoroughly, he picked out the fattest pieces, put them in a small bowl, and carried it to the backyard.

"Grandma, have a taste! This is a big, fatty pork dish that your grandson cooked himself. Isn't it delicious?"

The old lady beamed from ear to ear, her sparse gums showing, her smile lines like crumpled pieces of rice paper: "Good! Good! My eldest grandson is so thoughtful!"

Back inside, He Yuzhu casually pulled over a bench and sat down.

"How's your schoolwork going lately? Is it difficult?"

He Yushui, licking the oil off her fingertips, wiped her mouth upon hearing this: "Don't worry! The teacher said we'll go straight to the factory after graduation, no need to wait for assignment!"

She's only in her first year of high school now, and there's still a long time before 1961. According to the factory's "5-2-2" school system, by the time that wave of change hits, she'll have already received her blue work clothes and established herself in the workshop.

He Yuzhu was pondering this in his mind when he suddenly asked, "Have you thought about taking the college entrance exam?"

He Yushui was taken aback, her chopsticks hovering in mid-air—she really hadn't thought of that.

All I could think about was getting to work early, earning a few more dollars, and helping my brother with his rent, coal coupons, and groceries...

"I didn't think about it." She shook her head honestly. "I even asked my teacher to help me find out about factories."

"No rush," He Yuzhu said gently. "I can afford to pay for your studies. Think about it: you'll graduate next year with a starting salary of just over twenty yuan; but a college graduate starting in a factory will earn fifty-one yuan—more than double that!"

He calmly laid out his reasoning: education is the foundation of a secure job and, more importantly, the means to make a living for the next few decades.

"I'm counting on you to become a 'college graduate worker'!" He smiled and winked. "When your salary is higher in the future, and I'm short on cash, if I ask you to lend me three or five yuan, you'd feel bad refusing, right?"

He Yushui lowered her head and stirred the oily soup in her bowl, her heart warming slightly—if she could really earn more, her brother wouldn't have to worry about his paycheck every day and how to make ends meet.

"Then... shall I give it a try?" Her voice was soft, but with a hint of gritted teeth. "If I don't pass the exam, don't blame me."

He Yuzhu smiled and nodded, urging her to go back to her room to rest.

If you don't study now, you might not even know which way the exam room door faces in the future.

Nowadays, college graduates are highly sought after; factories are vying for them, treating them like precious gems.

As dawn broke, He Yuzhu pushed open the door, and a blast of cold wind hit him, making him shrink back.

I need to teach that Ma Hua kid a lesson today—his newly tailored blue cotton jacket was ruined by the crumbs of steamed buns he stole!

Upon entering the canteen kitchen, he went straight to his work station, rolled up his sleeves, and prepared to get to work.

Master Liu was slicing green peppers, the blade slicing away with a sharp, clean sound. "Master He," he said, "the factory manager called you over yesterday. Is there some good news?"