Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

If the family splits up again, they can still get housing at the film studio.

That's how he did it in his past life. That old fox, his mind is as fine as a sieve.

Xu Damao, his true colors exposed, blushed and paled in turns, and stubbornly shouted, "I'm a cultured man! I show movies to spread spiritual nourishment! I'm not like a servant like you!"

"Huh?" He Yuzhu sneered, flicking the spatula and sending the cured meat tumbling through the air. "When you're showing a movie, don't you also serve the audience? When I buy a ticket, you have to bow and scrape to explain the subtitles to me, and you have to greet me with a smile."

"And then—" He paused, a smile playing on his lips, "I've been a full-fledged cook for almost three years now. The sign of my Level 2 cook title is so impressive it would scare you into riding your bike out of the capital overnight."

Believe it or not?

He Yuzhu chopped the cabbage deftly, then tapped the cutting board with the back of his knife, making a soft "thump" sound.

He shook the water droplets off his hands, glanced at Xu Damao who was standing at the door looking on expectantly, and then turned around and took out the shiny piece of cured meat from the cabinet.

As soon as the cured meat appeared, Xu Damao's Adam's apple bobbed, and his eyes were glued to it.

He was really craving it—an apprentice's monthly wage was six yuan, half of which had to be given to his father, Xu Fugui, who was pulling strings and using connections everywhere, clinging tightly to the money.

The remaining three dollars? That's barely enough for him to take the girl to a photo studio for a picture, and he'll have to choose the cheapest package.

"Hey, Sha Zhu," Xu Damao grinned, his skin as thick as a city wall, "we've been neighbors for decades. I finally got a job at the factory, shouldn't you treat me to a celebratory meal?"

Two years ago, he wouldn't have dared to even mention it.

Back then, He Yuzhu was taciturn and would run around outside all day. When he came back, he would not say a word and would occasionally secretly hand a lunchbox to the old man begging at the entrance of the alley.

But things are different now. Although this person is still indifferent, his temper has obviously softened a bit, so Xu Damao dared to shamelessly come over to get a bite of warmth.

He Yuzhu glanced at him sideways, a slight smile playing on his lips: "With that mouth of yours, you think I'd treat you to a meal? Dream on."

If you want to eat meat, first you'll have to shut your mouth.

"Oh my, Brother Zhu!" Xu Damao immediately put on a fawning smile, his long face shrinking as he nodded and bowed. "Look at you, I was just joking! From now on, I'll call you Brother Zhu, a fixed title, no doubt about it!"

He Yuzhu waved his hand: "Alright, come over later, I'll cook another dish."

"Alright!" Xu Damao's eyes lit up. He turned and dashed off, pushing his bicycle like the wind towards his house. "I'll go get the liquor! I already have peanuts, and there's half a bottle of Xifeng liquor left. I can't bear to drink it all, but I'll go all out today!"

……

Soon, the aroma wafted from the stove outside the courtyard.

The braised eggplant is glossy and fragrant, the spicy and sour cabbage wrapped around slices of cured meat rolls around and releases a rich, fatty aroma, the Sichuan-style chicken is soaked in red oil and has a numbing and fragrant smell, and the last dish of braised potato slices is golden and crispy, full of wok hei (wok aroma).

Two meat dishes and two vegetable dishes were laid out on a small wooden table, making it look like someone was having an early New Year's feast.

The key is his skill—he's a second-level chef, with perfect control over the heat. When he's cooking, several neighbors gather around, peering in and sniffling like dogs.

The weather was hot and humid, and cooking inside the house was smoky and stuffy, so everyone simply moved out and set up their stoves and pots at the gate of the yard for ventilation and coolness.

While packing up the pot, He Yuzhu pondered: This house is the main house in Zhongyuan, and it's quite large. If we renovate it properly before getting married, we can easily create a few rooms.

However, living alone is just right now. The place is spacious, and I can practice my boxing routine in the morning and evening to stretch my muscles and bones.

He currently carries over 2,400 yuan in his pocket, which is his life savings accumulated over the years—the private money left by He Daqing before he left, the living expenses sent back every month, his own salary, plus the extra money he earns by taking on side jobs as a cook.

This amount of money ranks among the top three in the Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house), only slightly less than Yi Zhonghai, and far surpasses Liu Haizhong's by a wide margin.

Liu Haizhong's salary is high, but he has three hungry children at home, and he has to eat eggs every day to nourish himself. Blacksmithing is physically demanding! When Liu Guangqi gets married, he'll probably have to sell even the copper basin hidden under the bed to raise money for the bride price.

Two thousand yuan is enough for He Yuzhu to buy two sets of the "three major items".

Although he needed tickets, he and Li Huaide were very close—Li Huaide was now the director of the Ministry of Industry, so getting a few tickets was just a matter of a word.

Furthermore, Li Huaide recently hinted that he might be transferred to the steel rolling mill as the logistics director.

The steel rolling mill is not yet a significant size, but it is gaining momentum.

I heard that starting in 1965, the company was to expand three times in a row, increasing the number of workers to 20,000 to 30,000, and directly upgrade it to a department-level unit.

Li Huaide has seized the opportunity and plans to use this opportunity to rise to the top.

"Big brother, I'm back!"

A crisp sound came from the doorway, and He Yushui skipped in with her schoolbag on her back. She was stunned when she saw the four elaborate dishes on the table: "Brother, what's the occasion? Why are you serving so much delicious food?"

With her older brother's cooking skills, even a plate of potato chips would smell so good that neighbors would come over with their bowls to freeload a meal.

The two sisters probably can't finish these four dishes; they'll have to skip breakfast tomorrow.

"Hey, isn't this all to celebrate me finding a job!" Xu Damao sidled in at that moment, carrying a plate of peanuts and a half-empty bottle of Xifeng liquor. "Your brother feels sorry for me, so he specially treated me to something nutritious!"

Before he could finish speaking, his eyes were already glued to the plate of Sichuan-style spicy chicken. He reached out, grabbed a piece of chicken, and stuffed it into his mouth, exhaling sharply from the heat, but his face was full of ecstasy: "Mmm...delicious! It's fucking authentic!"

"Xu Damao!" He Yushui frowned, "Why did you have to use your hands when the chopsticks were there? It's so dirty!"

"Hey!" Xu Damao chuckled, slid down onto a small stool, grabbed his chopsticks, and started shoving them across the table like he was going to war. "Your brother's cooking is best enjoyed with your hands! If you're too slow, you won't even get any soup!"

He Yushui sighed, taking it all in stride.

Every time Uncle San comes to eat, he acts like he's starved for eight lifetimes, as if his food is about to be snatched away at any moment.

Indeed, that was the case. He Yushui immediately grabbed her chopsticks and started fighting with Xu Damao over them, chopsticks flying and spatula almost swung around.

He Yuzhu sat to the side, shaking his head as he watched, but couldn't help but curl up the corners of his mouth.

Tsk, these two are eating like hungry wolves, doesn't that just prove his cooking skills are amazing? When his culinary skills are truly maxed out, he might just be crowned the "God of Cookery in the Capital," with restaurants all over the city lining up to invite him to come out of retirement.

The two devoured the food in a whirlwind, eating cornbread and vegetables one bite at a time. When only half a plate of the Sichuan-style chicken and a few lonely cabbage stalks remained of the stir-fried cured pork with cabbage, Xu Damao finally let out a long, satisfied burp, wiped his greasy mouth, and reached out to unscrew the bottle cap and pour He Yuzhu a glass.

"Brother Zhu, your cooking skills are truly unparalleled. The stuff served by those people in state-run restaurants can't even match the aroma of your broth."

One meal was enough to make him completely ecstatic.

He had never eaten such an amazing dish in his life. It was so fragrant that he was sweating, his tongue was numb, and he could taste it even in his bones.

He Yushui chimed in smugly, "That's right! My brother is a level two cook! Most of the people hanging around the state-run kitchens outside are only level four or five, they're miles behind my brother."

Upon hearing this, Xu Damao suddenly looked up, his eyes wide like saucers, staring intently at He Yuzhu, his voice trembling: "What? Silly Zhu... no, Brother Zhu, you're a level two cook?"

He is now one of the eight key personnel, and he knows very well that the lower the rank of a cook, the more prestigious they are. The first-level cook is a master chef who specializes in state banquets and cooks for foreign guests; the second-level cook is a step below, but they are still extremely rare and can not be found in ordinary restaurants.

He almost dropped the wine glass in his hand.

He Yuzhu has changed a bit in the last two years, but who would have thought that he had already quietly left him far behind?

He used to laugh at Sha Zhu behind his back, calling him a clumsy cook, but then Sha Zhu turned around and became the top second-level chef in the whole hospital.

Then look at himself—a temporary apprentice, carrying coal and water every day, not even daring to get too close to the stove.

"Brother Zhu..."

Just as he was about to say something heartfelt, the door was kicked open from the outside with a loud bang, and an old man named Yi Zhonghai strode in.

The atmosphere inside the room instantly turned cold.

Yi Zhonghai glanced over and saw the two men clinking glasses and drinking, with several greasy, hearty dishes still left on the table. His face immediately darkened.

An inexplicable anger surged to my head.

Why would this foolish Zhu prefer to befriend a scoundrel like Xu Damao rather than curry favor with him? He's a respected elder in the courtyard, and he's just being left out like this?

If he had to pick the one he disliked the most among the younger generation, it would definitely be Xu Damao—he's been disrespectful since childhood and always gossiping behind people's backs. If it weren't for Shazhu's past habit of teaching him a lesson, he would have stopped the kid from entering the house long ago.

"Sir, this is my home. Couldn't you knock before you come in? You just barge in like it's your own backyard!"

He Yuzhu put down his cup, his tone as cold as ice.

He now has a hundred reasons not to want to see someone like Yi Zhonghai.

He knows perfectly well how much that old man has gossiped about behind people's backs these past two years.

Old Lady Li had warned him several times before that he had been blinded by greed in his past life to take care of him in his old age and see him off in his final days, and what did he get in return? Bah!

"I'm here to inform you of the college-wide meeting." Yi Zhonghai said stiffly, his words serious, but his eyes kept glancing at the table.

The remaining Sichuan-style chicken was still glistening with red oil, the chili oil coating the tender white chicken meat, and the aroma wafted into his nose, making his Adam's apple bob.

"I understand." He Yuzhu said expressionlessly. "Is there anything else? If not, please leave. We still need to clean up after we finish eating."