Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

The father and son traveled to almost every production team, big and small, around Beijing. The purchasing department relied entirely on them to build bridges and pave roads, and they completed their tasks beautifully.

The factory leaders have all reassured Xu Damao: by the end of the year, he is likely to be promoted to a permanent position!

Seeing the father and son arguing again, Xu Damao's mother wrung her hands anxiously, "Oh, stop talking nonsense! Let me tell you, what Boss Lou meant... he probably wants to take Sha Zhu as his son-in-law! I heard him say last time that he wanted to find Miss Lou someone with a good family background and impeccable character, and isn't our Damao a perfect fit?"

Upon hearing this, Xu Damao's ears immediately perked up: "Mom, what does this Miss Lou you mentioned look like?"

"Shui Ling! That's the Lou family's daughter, well-educated and beautiful, like a fairy!" Her eyes lit up, as if she could already see her son dressed in red and colorful decorations welcoming his bride.

Xu Fugui scoffed, his face full of disdain: "What's the point of saying all this now! Da Mao hasn't even been officially promoted yet, how can he compare to He Yuzhu? He's the deputy director of the cafeteria, holding a rice scoop in his hand, with people lining up to curry favor with him! Ask him himself if he has the confidence to do so!"

She glared at her son, her eyes filled with disappointment.

Xu Damao retorted, sticking his neck out: "Can't I even think about it? I didn't say I'd marry you right now!"

He knew very well that there was simply no comparison now.

One held a high-ranking position in the canteen, in charge of feeding a hundred people; the other was just a film projection apprentice running errands and doing odd jobs—the difference was immense.

"Miss Lou is only fifteen, she's still a long way from marriage!" Xu Damao's mother lowered her voice, her tone urgent. "We have plenty of time! As long as we act quickly, we'll have our chance!"

She was truly interested.

Ever since she heard that Boss Lou was looking for a son-in-law, she had been dreaming about how to marry Lou Xiao'e.

The once unattainable eldest daughter of the Lou family, if she could become her daughter-in-law... just thinking about it makes my heart tremble.

If He Yuzhu hadn't interfered, she could have slowly laid out her plans.

But now that Boss Lou has already shown his preference, how can she dare to wait any longer?

Xu Fugui was silent for a moment, then a glint of light flashed in his eyes: "Tell me more... If things are handled properly, our Damao might not be without hope."

The key is that you need to put in some effort with the Lou family…”

Even now, the three members of the Xu family combined can't compete with He Yuzhu alone.

But if the son marries the Lou family's daughter—fortune turns, and it's not certain who will win or lose!

While the Xu family was secretly plotting, He Yuzhu was too busy to deal with these trivial matters.

Not only are they extremely busy, but even their only day off each week is being targeted.

Sharif called eagerly: "Rain Column! Come over and cook this weekend? I'm dying to go!"

"I'm not going," He Yuzhu said firmly.

"How about I bring some people to your house for a picnic? It'll be so much fun!"

"No, that won't do either." She refused again, her tone crisp and decisive.

Sharif immediately deflated like a punctured balloon.

However, He Yuzhu was not entirely heartless.

He casually pulled out a few small wooden carvings and sent them over—a tomahawk steak, a sandwich, cream of mushroom soup… Each piece was lifelike, with even the charred lines and fat distribution on the steak clearly visible, as if you could smell the aroma in the next second.

Sharif, holding the wooden carving, was so excited he almost jumped up: "Amazing! This is a work of art! I want to collect it! Please, Yuzhu, carve me a series of world cuisines! Parisian foie gras, Tokyo sushi, Istanbul kebabs... I want them all!"

He Yuzhu smiled but didn't immediately agree: "Let me teach these technicians at the steel rolling mill first."

This tactic, ostensibly a reciprocal gesture, is actually a subtle form of exploitation—if cutting food expenses is "coercion," then these wooden food carvings are blatant "enticements."

He might not care about others, but he hit Sharif's weak spot—this guy is a foodie at heart, and his dream is not to build machines, but to travel the world and taste all the delicious food in the world.

If fate hadn't forced him into the role of an engineer, he would have definitely switched careers to become a food critic without hesitation.

Now, the steel mill has to spend at least 35 dollars a day just to support their seven polar bear experts—five dollars per person for a basic meal, and seven dollars for "luxury meals" like cheese pizza or cream cake.

After a month, thousands of yuan went down the drain, all paid out of the factory's own pocket.

Factory Director Yang and Wang Shushu broke out in a cold sweat every time they looked at the reports, wishing they could write a self-criticism in advance and prepare to kneel down and beg for forgiveness at the Ministry of Industry.

But things are different now.

From the head of the technical department to the junior technicians, everyone in the department learned from Sharif for half a month and thoroughly mastered the two imported machine tools transferred from the Ministry of Industry.

In another week, they will be able to independently replicate and assemble it!

If successful, it will not only be able to produce and sell its own products, but also support other factories across the country.

Originally, importing one unit from Polar Bear would have cost over 100,000 yuan, but now with localized production, the cost has been reduced to around 30,000 yuan!

After considering this, not only would Sharif be reluctant to leave, but even Director Yang would be laughing in his dreams.

This was undoubtedly a major boost to China's industrialization; and for the Third Steel Rolling Mill, it was an even more transformative leap.

The technical staff, along with a few experienced master craftsmen, were almost always the last group in the factory to turn off the lights.

He Yuzhu usually rides his bicycle home around 8 o'clock, but they can't—after class, they have to gather together for a short meeting to thoroughly understand the machine tool operation and equipment principles explained by Sharif's white bear experts, and write them down in their notebooks.

These are not things to be taken lightly; in the future, when we manufacture our own machine tools, we will rely on these notes as "secret manuals."

The canteen would save food for them every day and even arranged for someone to accompany the technicians.

He Yuzhu could finally breathe a sigh of relief—at least he was the deputy director of the cafeteria, and he didn't have to squat at the back every day.

Besides, what's the most important thing in the factory right now? It's not production, it's not meetings, it's keeping those polar bear engineers in check!

When Shelev and his group first arrived, there were some diplomatic receptions and banquets, but now? Everything has been streamlined.

All resources are poured into them, ensuring they eat well, live comfortably, and even their work pace is adjusted to match their rhythm.

Sometimes, Li Huaide and Factory Director Yang would get really hungry and secretly whisper to He Yuzhu, "Old He, when you're cooking for Sheriff, don't be too stingy. Make a couple more bowls and share some with us so we can have a taste."

He Yuzhu grinned: "Okay, more for the same price, I'm happy to."

Besides looking after these foreign chefs, he also occasionally accompanied several agricultural professors on tours.

At first, Professor Wang was the only one there, but later three more people came, and a group of people were gathered.

Why? Just to keep an eye on that 200-square-meter experimental field in the corner of the steel rolling mill—the wheat and rice planted there were growing even more vigorously than those in the commune's fields.

Every day, they squat on the edge of the field to record data, noting how many centimeters the leaves had grown and how many rice ears had sprouted, as meticulously as if they were investigating a case.

Afterwards, they squeezed into a small room that the factory had cleared out, spread out blueprints and notebooks, and had a lively discussion.

He Yuzhu would often go over and listen in whenever he had free time, and occasionally he could even chime in.

In his view, the most practical way to increase production right now is not to blindly experiment with new varieties, but to use scientific composting.

"It would be great if the Ministry of Agriculture could issue a nationwide fertilization guideline." He sat cross-legged on a small stool, eating a steamed bun as he spoke. "The soil and climate are different in different places, so we can't use the same method for everyone."

Develop a plan based on the scoring areas; adapting to local conditions is the only reliable approach.

He paused, then added, "Besides, relying solely on farmyard manure isn't enough."

Fertilizer plants need to be built, especially in coastal areas—fish and shrimp rot on the beaches and no one wants them, they just go to waste and stink.

If it were processed into sea fertilizer, turning waste into treasure, the yield would increase significantly!

The professors' eyes lit up as they listened.

"The key is to remove the salt completely," He Yuzhu reminded. "Otherwise, the fertilizer will be applied, but the soil will be salted to death, which will damage the roots."

Upon hearing this, the others nodded in agreement.

Everyone understands the importance of fertilizers, but in the past, different regions had their own local methods, and no one thought of standardizing them.

After hearing He Yuzhu's analysis, I suddenly realized—hey, this really is a breakthrough!

As for building factories along the coast, they are not very familiar with it, but they can submit a report to their superiors.

What if it actually works?

Professor Wang looked at He Yuzhu and felt more and more sorry for him.

This brain of a person is wasted if it's not used for agriculture!

"Zhu Zi," he couldn't help but speak again, his tone now earnest, "how about I introduce you to the Ministry of Agriculture? A cook at most manages one kitchen, but we agricultural scientists manage the livelihoods of everyone in the world! Your insight far surpasses that of my graduate students! If I hadn't seen your analysis with my own eyes, who would believe you were self-taught?"

He was genuinely moved to cherish talent—a person like that would be more than qualified to be an agricultural consultant in a city.

Before the words were finished, footsteps came from the doorway.

Li Huaide strode in, his face filled with anxiety: "Professor Wang, please don't even think about taking advantage of Zhu Zi! Our steel rolling mill can't function without him! Those old guys from the White Bear gang are incredibly stubborn. If it weren't for Zhu Zi's thoughtful cooking and easy conversation, they would have quit long ago! The industrialization process would be stuck here!"

His voice turned serious: "Industry is also a vital part of the nation!"

Professor Wang opened his mouth, but ultimately sighed and stopped arguing.

He also knew that if the topic were to be dragged on any further, it would bring up the old debate about "industry versus agriculture"—they had argued about greenhouses before, and he didn't want to stir up trouble again.

Moreover, He Yuzhu himself was not tempted.

Professor Wang has tried to persuade him twice, but both times he politely declined.

But Li Huaide was still a little uneasy, fearing that the other party would poach him by offering a high-level position.

"Professor Wang," He Yuzhu waved his hand with a smile, "I still prefer the sound of pots and pans clattering."

Besides, I haven't formally studied agronomy; it was just a flash of inspiration at best.

"If I have any ideas in the future, I'll just come to you for advice, and you can give me some pointers."

The attitude was clear, but the tone was warm.