Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

Back at the courtyard house, He Yushui opened the bundle and her eyes lit up immediately.

The new clothes were a moon-white jacket with a diagonal placket, embroidered with fine plum blossom patterns. The stitches were even, and the fabric was smooth to the touch. You could tell how high-end it was just by lifting it up.

She held the clothes, looking at them from left to right, reluctant to put them down. Finally, she carefully folded them and locked them at the bottom of the trunk.

"I'll wear this for the New Year! I'll only wear it for important occasions!" she murmured to herself in front of the mirror, her face beaming with joy.

As night falls, wisps of smoke rise from every chimney, pots and pans clink, and the aroma of food wafts through the alleyways.

But if you ask which family's food is the most tempting, it has to be He Yuzhu's family's—the aroma of their stir-fried vegetables can't compare to the stewed meat of others.

Even stir-fried bean sprouts with scallions could emit an aroma reminiscent of ambergris, attracting the neighbor's kids to peek over the wall.

Meanwhile, at the Jia family's dinner table, the scene was quite different.

Jia Dongxu earns a monthly salary of 42.5 yuan. Every month, without fail, he gives Jia Zhangshi three yuan for retirement, leaving him with 39.5 yuan, which is barely enough to support himself.

Fortunately, my master, Yi Zhonghai, provides me with more than 20 kilograms of cornmeal every month; otherwise, I would not even be able to afford coarse grains.

He had to find his own way to fill the gaps in rice, oil, and other non-staple foods.

Incidentally, since Old Lady Li and Old Wang's family no longer needed relief, Second Uncle's family also quietly stopped providing assistance—he cared about his reputation, but he wasn't stupid and wouldn't be taken advantage of forever.

That night, Jia Dongxu ate cornbread and pickled vegetables, gazing at the waning moon in the sky, remaining silent for a long time.

It's impossible to just spend a few extra dollars to help Yi Zhonghai's apprentice.

If you really have that spare money, you might as well go to the grocery store and buy a few eggs to nourish your body.

Besides his master Yi Zhonghai taking care of him and providing him with 20 jin of cornmeal every month, Jia Dongxu also had to carry 65 jin back by himself.

With the addition of those twenty jin, it was barely enough for Qin Huairu, Banggeng, and his mother Jia Zhangshi to eat.

Banggeng may be young, but he has a big appetite—he's always running around the alley like a little monkey, devouring two steamed buns in one sitting as if it were nothing.

Qin Huairu needs to weigh at least 25 jin a month, but her breast milk is insufficient, so she relies entirely on this coarse grain to survive.

The remaining thirty-five jin... were all made by Jia Zhangshi alone.

Thinking about this, Jia Dongxu's brain throbbed.

His own mother does no housework at home, just lies on the kang (a heated brick bed) in the wind sewing shoe soles, but when it comes to eating, she's even more ruthless than him, the fitter who wields a hammer.

The key is not to say anything, because if you do, they'll explode, immediately throwing a tantrum, crying and wailing, calling him "unfilial" and "mistreating his own mother."

Cornmeal was three cents a pound, but grain coupons were being sold for one cent each at the pigeon market.

Just buying tickets costs him an extra six yuan and fifty cents every month.

Not to mention the cost of alcohol, coal briquettes, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and cloth coupons for clothes... The wages of a third-level fitter sound respectable, but by the end of each month, one's pockets are emptier than one's face.

Yi Zhonghai often advised him, "Just get to level four, and you'll earn a few more dollars, which will make life easier."

But where would he find the time to practice his skills? His master had taken on a bunch of apprentices, and the level 7 fitter was always busy with special tasks, so the burden of teaching fell entirely on Jia Dongxu's shoulders.

He was a direct disciple, with a solid foundation and the ability to handle responsibilities—his master said, "It is only natural for a disciple to share the burdens of his master."

So he was busy in the workshop during the day, kept an eye on his apprentices at night, and had to watch his mother's mood when he got home.

My salary is gone as soon as I get paid; I can't save a single penny.

Then look at Sha Zhu, who not only eats well and drinks well, but also has meat at every meal. The resentment in his heart keeps rising.

I used to be able to comfort myself by thinking: at least I have a son and a daughter, and my family is blessed.

But now even this psychological advantage is almost gone.

If He Yuzhu marries a factory worker, having children is just a matter of time. Then she'll be surrounded by children and a warm home. What can Jia Dongxu possibly compete with?

When your heart grows cold, you become lazy.

He used to be a teetotaler, but now he brews a small pot of alcohol every few days, takes a couple of swigs, and just wants some peace and quiet.

"Pah! That Wang family, who deserves to be struck by lightning, came back today with a piece of meat, and even specially delivered it to that idiot Zhu who has no descendants! Are they blind? Can't they see that we're starving?" Jia Zhangshi spat as she reached out and grabbed another cornbread, stuffing it into her mouth and chewing it fiercely.

Jia Dongxu frowned: "Mom, that's Huairu's food rations, why are you touching it again?"

"Are you hungry?!" She rolled her eyes, continuing to chatter, "I'm exhausted from sewing shoe soles today. Just this once, don't let it happen again!"

A mouthful of cornbread, a bite of pickled vegetable dumplings, and half of it was gone in the blink of an eye.

Qin Huairu sat beside her, sighing inwardly but having to keep a straight face.

The person has already eaten; are you suggesting she light a fire and steam another one? We don't even have enough rice at home.

"Mom, I can't produce enough milk during my pregnancy, and I'm relying entirely on this little bit of food to get by..."

"Alright, alright!" Madam Jia slammed her chopsticks on the table, her eyes instantly reddening. "Fine, I won't eat it tomorrow, okay? I won't eat it at all from now on, alright?!"

Despite saying that, he held the cornbread tightly in his hand, not letting go for a moment.

Jia Dongxu saw right through his mother's attempt at playing the victim again and quickly waved his hand to interrupt: "Who's stopping you from eating? If you're hungry in the future, just have Huairu steam an extra one, don't take hers."

"Just eat yours!"

After saying that, he tilted his head back and gulped down a mouthful of wine, the spiciness making his throat feel tight.

The words of Madam Jia were still ringing in my ears.

If it weren't for their master's generosity, their family wouldn't have even seen a single grain of meat last week.

But now? Old Wang carried over a pound of fatty and lean pork belly into the yard, its glistening fat attracting the attention of everyone in the alley.

report?

joke.

Even though everyone knew that the pigeons were bought from the pigeon market, no one actually dared to expose them.

Who in the courtyard house hasn't been to the black market? The Jia family exchanged grain coupons, the second uncle sold eggs, and the third uncle's flowerpots kept disappearing—growing flowers was just an excuse; trading was the real purpose.

Who wouldn't want to add a bowl of fish soup for their child or buy a new piece of cloth for their wife?

Reporting someone for a pound or two of meat? Even the police officers at the local station find it troublesome.

Are they arresting speculators who hoard goods and disrupt the market, while ordinary people are secretly trying to improve their lives? If we turn a blind eye, everyone can make a living.

"Dongxu..." Qin Huairu said softly, gently stroking the crying baby in her arms, "Could I ask Uncle San to buy two crucian carp? The rice cereal is almost gone, the baby can't just drink this anymore..."

Qin Huairu lowered her head, twisting the hem of her clothes with her fingertips, her voice so soft it sounded like it was being squeezed from her throat: "My milk supply is decreasing... and the rice cereal is almost gone too."

Jia Dongxu's brow twitched. After a moment's hesitation, he stuffed two cents into Jia Zhangshi's hand: "Mom, go there."

"That old fox, Uncle San, is very cunning. If Huairu goes, she'll only suffer."

Madam Jia clutched the money tightly, her palms burning, and nodded repeatedly, "I know, I know! This is for the baby who is pregnant and needs breastfeeding. Jia Dang is also my own granddaughter, how could I mistreat her? Every drop of the fish soup will be hers!"

He spoke with righteous indignation, but in his heart he had already started to plan – if he could get a few crucian carp from the Yan family without spending any money, he would save a penny and make two cents profit, and the remaining penny... wouldn't it all be his own?

He Yuzhu couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters.

He's currently in seclusion, gathering experience, and he'll slap anyone who tries to provoke him.

Old Wang brought meat to the door, but he waved it off and didn't take it.

"Your three kids, when do you ever not devour every meal? A pound of meat isn't even enough to fill a tooth gap."

After dinner, he practiced boxing, his tiger-like steps were powerful, and the air crackled as his punches struck.

After finishing a set of Xingyi, I was covered in sweat. I wiped myself with a towel and felt my energy and spirits were fully restored.

Just before going to sleep, a thought struck him.

"system!"

[Host: He Yuzhu]

[The skill bar scrolled wildly—]

Cooking Skills (Max Level) | Housekeeping (Level 5) | Fluent in both Russian and English | Fishing Expert | Xingyi Quan Master Level | Carpentry Master | Healing Skills | Agricultural Expert | Tai Chi Beginner | Basic Mechanical Repair Knowledge | Go (Go) Dan Level

[A vibrant space: 400×400×400 cubic meters, teeming with greenery and filled with vitality]

A slight smile played on his lips, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

Meanwhile, the technical department of the Third Steel Rolling Mill was brightly lit.

A newly transferred senior technician, his hands trembling, presented a thick stack of blueprints to his section chief, his voice trembling: "Section Chief...it's done! The complete set of machine tool design drawings has been replicated!"

The only Level 9 engineer in the technical department, a tough guy specially dispatched by the Ministry of Industry, had a livid face but burning eyes: "Check it again! Not a single number can be wrong! If this thing is off by even a fraction, the entire production line will be scrapped!"

Upon receiving the order, the entire department instantly entered a wartime state.

The drawings were laid out one by one, the data was checked item by item, and even the seams between the pieces had to be examined with a magnifying glass.

They were like defusing a time bomb, holding their breath and sweat dripping down their temples.

No one touched their chopsticks at lunchtime; they were starving but didn't say a word.

It was the young woman from the personnel department who couldn't stand it anymore and went to tell Bai Danyu.

Bai Danyu immediately reported it to the factory leaders.

Without a word, Director Yang immediately ordered: "The canteen will send food to the technical department! Everyone must keep writing and proofreading while eating!"

The food had just been brought in, its aroma filling the air, but no one bothered to touch it.

Only after the final checkpoint confirmed everything was correct did Section Chief Zhou abruptly stand up—this usually stern and aloof middle-aged man now had reddened eyes and his voice boomed like thunder:

"The drawings are correct! All precision requirements are met! Tomorrow, start manufacturing the equipment!"

In an instant, the long-suppressed ecstasy exploded!

Some people jumped up and roared, some hugged the blueprints and grinned foolishly, and some even started wiping away tears.

They worked hard during the day and studied at night, spending countless nights with bloodshot eyes, all for this moment!

Factory Director Yang and Deputy Factory Director Zhou had already put down their documents and were standing quietly at the door waiting for the results.

They exchanged a smile and strode in.

"Section Chief Zhou, whatever personnel or materials you need, just say the word!" Factory Director Yang looked around at everyone with a hearty smile. "By the way, I'd like to inform everyone—the canteen will be open tonight, and I've had Deputy Director He personally cook for you all!"

"Whoosh—"

The entire venue erupted in cheers!

Who is Deputy Director He? He's a chef who can stew cabbage with the flavor of dragon liver and phoenix marrow! The workers say they can eat three extra bowls of rice after he cooks a big pot of dishes!

Upon hearing this, the tough guys in the technical department immediately started drooling.