Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

He Daqing picked up a piece of braised pork knuckle with his chopsticks and said slowly, "Zhu Zi, did you teach them your knife skills and cooking techniques? This is our real skill for making a living, and we can't let it be lost."

He Yuzhu wiped his hands and replied with a smile, "Dad, if someone is genuinely interested in learning, you should guide them step by step; if someone is not focused, don't force them—a forced relationship won't be sweet."

Upstairs, Lou Xiao'e had already tidied up the south-facing room on the east side of the second floor: a new blue-printed quilt, freshly picked wintersweet on the windowsill, and even the celadon mouthwash cup on the washstand was polished to a shine. As soon as she finished speaking, Lou Yue darted upstairs like a clingy kitten, clinging to her grandfather's arm and shaking it back and forth, insisting that he tell her about the nights he spent by the stove before Liberation and the special skills he had secretly learned. He kept pestering her until almost dawn before Lou Xiao'e grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged him back to his room, muttering, "Just one more word."

After washing his face, He Da was supported by He Yuzhu, and they slowly walked up the stairs. The wooden steps creaked softly, the lamplight cast a gentle glow, and the footsteps carried a warm, homely feeling.

The next morning, He Yuzhu and Lou Xiao'e accompanied He Daqing to the private restaurant. As soon as the morning light shone through the eaves, the restaurant was already bustling with activity—the cooks, helpers, and waiters were all busy at their respective posts.

He Yuzhu pushed open the double doors of the kitchen, his voice clear and bright: "Everyone, stop what you're doing! This is my dad, He Daqing. From now on, he'll come every few days to give you pointers, teaching you authentic old-fashioned flavors step by step. His cooking skills are far more solid than mine, his son's!"

Ma Hua immediately took off his apron, clasped his hands in a fist and bowed, saying, "Sir, how should I address you?"

"Just call me Uncle." He Yuzhu patted him on the shoulder. "We're not ranked, we're just comparing skill."

With He Daqing in charge, the kitchen immediately came alive. The old man stood by the stove, his eyes sharp, his hands steady, and his control of the heat more precise than a clock. Several young chefs surrounded him, even the rhythm of their spatulas following his wrists.

He Yuzhu handed over a cup of warm tea: "Dad, if you get tired of standing, go sit by the rain, or squat at the street corner and play a couple of rounds of games with your old buddies, just relax."

He Daqing waved his hand, casually picked up a long-handled ladle, and stirred the simmering broth in the pot: "Watching them work, I feel at ease. You go ahead with your work, I'll keep an eye on things here, it won't be a problem."

He Yuzhu turned and left the kitchen. What the elderly fear most is not old age itself, but being forgotten; what they long for most is not to enjoy life, but to still be able to lend a hand, say a word, or be of some use—even if it's just tasting a bite of saltiness or pointing out the cooking time.

Lou Xiao'e went to the department store that very day and picked out two thick, crisp navy blue woolen suits for He Daqing to try on. The shoulders were straight, the waist fit perfectly, and the cuffs, which were a little too long, were immediately cut and altered. The old man twirled around in front of the mirror, and his spirits instantly lifted. When he stepped into the kitchen, his back was ramrod straight, as if the old stove had been burning brightly again, just like it had been thirty years ago.

At lunchtime, He Yushui pushed open the door carrying a blue cloth bundle. She unfolded the newly cut gray-blue cotton jacket: "Dad, move to my place tonight. Try this on; if it doesn't fit, I'll immediately remove the seams and re-alter it."

He Daqing chuckled and pointed to the closet: "Your sister-in-law just bought you two outfits. This pile of clothes is enough to last until the New Year."

He Yushui gently draped her jacket over the back of the chair, her tone soft yet resolute: "My sister-in-law's intentions are hers, but my filial piety must be sewed in by myself."

He Daqing laughed, his eyes crinkling with fine lines: "I must have accumulated eight lifetimes of good karma to have been blessed with two honest kids like you, plus this whole house full of little devils, each one with a sparkle in their eyes and a warm heart!"

Lou Xiao'e took He Yushui's hand, and the two squatted by the stove to eat a hot meal. Before leaving, Lou Xiao'e nodded and agreed, "Don't worry, I'll personally take Dad there tonight."

……

early morning

Having just finished breakfast, He Yuzhu straightened his collar, walked through the old, weathered plane trees of the Second Party School, and headed straight for Teaching Building No. 1. The training department had already arranged organizers and deputy organizers—essentially the backbone and gatekeepers of each class. Everyone lined up in order according to their class, listening to them explain the rules of the opening ceremony one by one: formal attire, standing at attention throughout, eye contact at eye level, and phones silenced.

Everyone at the Party School knew perfectly well that this start of the semester was not just about attending classes in a different location, but the first clarion call after a decade of silence. The piecemeal, short-term training programs of the past years could not support the scale of today's event; only today, with thousands gathered together, dressed in full uniform, the air itself seemed tense.

When the time came, the organizer waved his hand, and the group turned in unison towards the auditorium. This old auditorium, built in the 1950s, has two levels of circular seating and can accommodate more than a thousand people. The trainees from the training department sat in the back row on the side, while the key members of the continuing education department had already taken their seats in the front row. On both sides sat teachers and administrative staff from various departments of the school, all with their backs straight, like rows of arrows ready to be released.

As the trainees filed in, He Yuzhu spotted several familiar faces—currently ordinary cadres, but in a few years they would be speaking from a higher position; at this moment they were wearing faded Zhongshan suits, sitting quietly, and like everyone else, placing their notebooks neatly on their laps.

In the center of the stage, a long table covered with maroon velvet stood solemnly and conspicuously. Several bunches of blooming winter chrysanthemums were clustered in front of the table, their golden stamens reflecting the morning light and exuding a touch of warmth. On the wall directly behind, twelve large gilded characters read "Opening Ceremony of the Winter Semester of the Second Party School," steady and powerful, silently commanding the entire audience.

At exactly nine o'clock, the majestic prelude to "The East Is Red" began, and the side door of the auditorium slowly opened. Before the figures had fully appeared, applause surged up like a tidal wave, shaking the dome and lingering for a long time.

Principal Xu Xiangdong walked steadily into the venue with a warm smile on his face. He nodded slightly in greeting, pressed his hands together twice, and the applause dissipated as quickly as clouds swept away by the wind.

Following closely behind was Liu Qinghong, Vice Minister of the Organization Department of the CPC Central Committee. Accompanied by the school's leadership team, the two steadily ascended the stage, paused briefly in front of the two main seats in the center, and then calmly took their seats.

The moment Xu Xiangdong sat down, he lightly pressed his right hand on the table, and the entire room fell silent—so silent that you could hear your own heartbeat, so silent that you would unconsciously slow your breathing.

He Yuzhu sat in the middle-forward position, feeling a solemn aura emanating from the front row, pressing down layer upon layer towards the back. He felt a chill: who else could make so many cadres hold their breath and remain motionless, besides the organization department that decides their future?

In fact, he had met Xu Xiangdong before—at his own family's lively opening banquet. The old man had brought him along, but He Yuzhu didn't even have the right to approach and speak; he only caught a glimpse of the man nodding and smiling from afar. Now, this man was not only the head of the Party School but also a key figure holding the key to cadre promotion and demotion. To be able to sit alongside him was an opportunity many people could only dream of in their entire lives.

At this moment, not a single person whispered, leaned to one side, or dared to wipe their sweat. Everyone sat ramrod straight, their eyes fixed intently on Principal Xu, whose face was calm and whose eyes were clear. In this silent space, a single misplaced glance or a momentary lapse in concentration could subtly derail one's path to promotion.

Xu Xiangdong's speech was concise and to the point. He first outlined the Party School's history of emerging from the flames of war, then clarified that this study was not merely a formality, but rather a process of "forging the soul" of thought and "tempering" of skills. Finally, he encouraged everyone to immerse themselves in reading the original texts and understanding the principles. In less than twenty minutes, his words resonated powerfully.

Subsequently, Vice Minister Liu Qinghong, the Vice President of the Party School, and relevant officials from the Ministry of Education took the stage in turn, echoing the main theme while focusing on practical matters, with every sentence revolving around "learning for practical application" and "unity of knowledge and action".

Just after 11 a.m., the ceremony ended. The leaders rose and left their seats, and applause rang out again, but this time it was gentle and orderly. At the organizer's command, everyone lined up and headed back, their footsteps on the terrazzo steps neat and uniform, like a team that had just recalibrated its course.

There were about twenty people in He Yuzhu's training class. They sat around in the classroom and quickly became acquainted. Then, under the guidance of the organizer, they elected a class monitor, a life committee member, and other class committee members—the process was almost identical to that of when they were in middle school.

With the class committee members in place, everyone can arrange their time as they see fit, with classes officially starting tomorrow.

He Yuzhu strolled around the Party School compound a few times before turning around and leaving through the gate, planning to report back tomorrow. He walked towards his family's "Prince's Mansion Private Kitchen," mentally reviewing the key points of the leader's speech during the day, and before he knew it, he had arrived at the restaurant.

He went straight into the kitchen and ran into He Daqing squatting by the stove, holding a ladle in one hand and gesturing with the other, patiently explaining the intricacies of heat control and knife skills to Ma Hua and Liu Hu. He Yuzhu didn't approach, but leaned against the door frame and watched quietly.

Seeing his son walk in, dressed in a sharp dark blue suit, He Daqing looked up and smiled: "How was your first day of school?"

He Yuzhu nodded: "It's alright. Classes start tomorrow, the schedule isn't too full."

He Daqing wiped his hands with a rag: "Study hard, don't just read books. Being able to do some practical things for the people is better than anything else."

He Yuzhu smiled and said, "I remember. Are you feeling at ease staying here?"

He Daqing waved his hand: "I've been an assistant all my life, and I only feel at ease when I smell cooking oil. There's no question of getting used to it."

He Yuzhu's tone became more serious: "It's good that you're feeling at ease. If anything feels wrong, don't try to tough it out. Tell Xiao'e or Yushui immediately. We need to have regular checkups—Aunt Yi was diagnosed with chest tightness last time, but luckily it was discovered early and she took her medication on time, which stabilized her condition; if we had delayed any longer, it might have been too late for emergency treatment."

He Daqing nodded: "I understand, I won't cause you any trouble."

He Yuzhu shook his head: "This isn't about causing trouble, it's about the bottom line. You still want to hold your great-grandchild, right? A check-up every six months, without fail. Your body weakens quickly, so you have to listen to the doctor's advice. I'll have Xiao'e accompany you to the hospital tomorrow."

He Daqing rubbed the corner of his apron: "I'll listen to you."

After finishing his conversation, He Yuzhu turned and left the kitchen. With his father overseeing things in the kitchen, he felt much more at ease. He then strolled into the front lounge and pulled out the textbooks issued by the Party School—some of them were still unopened. He needed to study a few pages first so that he could understand them more quickly when the organizers explained them in class.