Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

The meeting room door closed, and everyone was present.

Some people beamed with joy, as if they had found a gold ingot; others sat there with gloomy faces, looking like wilted eggplants.

"Comrades, let's have our weekly meeting as usual today—" Director Yang stood up, and as soon as he finished speaking, the whole room fell silent.

The presentation began with a barrage of praise—the new machine tool from last week was specifically commended by the Ministry of Industry and became a benchmark project.

Now it's time to divide the credit and decide on rewards and punishments; the real show is just beginning.

After conveying the instructions from his superiors, Wang Shushu cleared his throat and began reading the list of personnel adjustments.

Engineer Zhou from the technical department received a series of promotions, a raise in salary, and a huge amount of bonus tickets, including soap tickets, cloth tickets, and meat tickets.

The most outrageous one was Section Chief Zhou, who even got his hands on foreign exchange certificates!

These days, what are foreign exchange certificates? They're even more valuable than gold bars! If anyone lets slip that they have them, within three days, someone will be knocking on the door at night, carrying cigarettes and alcohol to "discuss business."

Li Huaide rose even higher – he was directly promoted to deputy factory director, and also took control of the finance and health departments, his power skyrocketed, and in the blink of an eye, he surpassed Deputy Factory Director Zhou.

With Wang Shushu about to retire to the second line, who is the second-in-command in the factory? It's obvious to anyone with eyes to see.

Not many people were promoted.

After all, most of those who tackle machine tool problems are workers and technicians, so it's unrealistic to promote them to higher positions. It's better to just throw money at them to make it more practical.

But administrative positions are different.

People like Li Huaide and He Yuzhu were directly put on the promotion list.

On the surface, He Yuzhu didn't seem to put in much effort, but the old hands at the steel mill knew perfectly well that without him, the new machine tool simply couldn't have been made!

Why was that foreigner Sharif willing to show his true skills? It was because He Yuzhu's exceptional skills impressed him! Not to mention that it was He Yuzhu himself who first proposed that "we need to build our own machine tools."

This time, he was officially promoted to canteen director, level 17, and his monthly salary increased to 99 yuan, plus a bunch of bonus tickets—sewing plane tickets, watch tickets, everything was in place, he can be said to have returned with a full load.

Of course, once he's promoted, the original director will have to move out of his position.

Director Zhang was transferred to the canteen manager of a facial tissue factory—it doesn't sound like a demotion, but what was it really like? What was a facial tissue factory? A small, run-down factory with poor benefits and a remote location; frankly, it was a disguised exile!

Upon hearing the news, Director Zhang's face turned green.

He stared intently at Director Yang, his eyes filled with disbelief—"I'm your man! How could you kick me without a word?"

But Director Yang didn't even lift his eyelids.

This was decided a long time ago.

Compared to Director Zhang, who couldn't manage the cafeteria and even dared to contradict Li Huaide, He Yuzhu was far more valuable.

At crucial moments, he was decisive in sacrificing pawns to save his chariot.

After announcing the personnel changes, Director Yang then assigned new tasks:

With the technical department as the core, a new workshop was established to specialize in the manufacturing of Hongxing machine tools!

Without affecting orders, at least three work groups should be set up to independently produce the "Red Star First Generation".

That's right, the new machine tool has been officially named Red Star Machine Tool.

Using this name is both a tribute to the predecessor of the steel rolling mill and also carries a sense of national sentiment.

From now on, the Third Steel Rolling Mill will focus on two things: receiving orders and manufacturing machine tools.

However, He Yuzhu also wondered to himself: Could they really get to monopolize this good thing? First and second steel mills have stronger technology and more resources. Are they really just going to stand by and watch them reap the rewards?

The meeting lasted for more than an hour. After it ended, everyone filed out and returned to their posts.

But He Yuzhu had only walked a short distance, and was about to return to the logistics canteen, when he was suddenly stopped by someone.

It's Director Zhang.

He practically lunged at me, his face contorted with panic, his voice trembling: "Zhu Zi! Zhu Zi, please save me! Talk to Deputy Director Li, please let me stay at the steel rolling mill, okay?"

He clasped his hands together, looking at He Yuzhu as if praying to a Bodhisattva: "Deputy director is fine too! Or I can be your deputy and you be the director! As long as you say so, I'll stay!"

A place like a facial tissue factory is not only far from home, but the pay is also much worse. Going there is like being sidelined, which is tantamount to ruining your future.

He didn't believe in fate, and he was even more unwilling to accept it.

He Yuzhu frowned, his tone troubled: "Director Zhang, this matter... there's really no precedent for it."

Wang Shushu announced the appointments publicly, so even Factory Director Li couldn't interfere, much less me.

"Zhu Zi!" Director Zhang grabbed his arm, his voice low, "You know, I've helped you a lot in the past."

"Please help me this time, and I'll listen to you from now on. If you say east, I won't go west!"

"Oh dear, you flatter me." He Yuzhu frowned even more, subtly shaking off his hand. "Aren't you making this sound like you're forming a faction or gang? I really can't make decisions like this. You should find someone else."

Before he finished speaking, he turned and left, his steps quick and decisive, as if afraid of getting into trouble if he stayed even a second longer.

Director Zhang stood frozen in place, his finger still hovering in mid-air, his face turning pale and then red.

Once they were out of sight, He Yuzhu shook his head with a cold laugh: What kind of hysteria is Director Zhang having? When has he ever helped me? If I had to say there was, it would be that time he cooked for Chairman Lou—but I was the one who saved him from that situation!

Only someone with a brain full of water would suggest to Li Huaide that someone who was about to be kicked out should stay.

Offending the entire factory leadership for an insignificant role? Only a fool would do that.

A gust of wind blew, swirling a few fallen leaves past my feet.

Not far behind, a figure slowly approached.

"Director Zhang, what's wrong? You look terrible."

Director Zhang looked up abruptly and realized that Yi Zhonghai had appeared in front of him at some point.

He was so distracted that he didn't even notice someone approaching.

"Master Yi?" He forced a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I just came back from the outhouse and saw you arguing with Sha Zhu from afar, so I came over to ask." Yi Zhonghai took out his cigarette case, pulled out one and handed it to him, then lit one for himself. "Judging from your expression, you seem to have something on your mind? If you trust me, you might as well tell me. We've worked together for many years, so maybe I can give you some advice."

Director Zhang was silent for a moment, his throat bobbing, before finally sighing, "Let's talk over there..."

He wanted to refuse, but the words caught in his throat and he changed his mind.

The two walked to a sheltered corner, and Director Zhang took a deep drag on his cigarette, his voice hoarse: "Don't call me 'Director Zhang' anymore... Tomorrow, I won't step into the steel rolling mill."

The personnel transfer order will be issued in the morning, and I'll have to pack my bags and leave in the afternoon.

He was extremely reluctant to go to that shabby place, the face towel factory, but if he didn't go, he might lose his job.

Yi Zhonghai's pupils contracted: "A transfer? Then... who will take over the cafeteria?"

"Who else could it be?" Director Zhang sneered, his eyes darkening. "Besides He Yuzhu, who else could sit in this position!"

His tone was full of resentment and bitterness.

As the head of the canteen at a major factory, a position with ample opportunities and extensive connections, how could he be replaced so easily? Instead, he was thrown into a small, run-down factory with drastically reduced benefits. No wonder he couldn't swallow this insult.

"Sha Zhu?" Yi Zhonghai's voice suddenly rose, almost in disbelief. "How long has he been working at the factory? He hasn't even been a full-time employee for a year, right? And he's been parachuted in as a director? What makes him so special?!"

He stared at Director Zhang, a glint of fire in his eyes: "Old Zhang, can you give me a piece of the story? What kind of background does he have that allows Wang Shushu to make the decision personally?"

Director Zhang narrowed his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips: "What's wrong, Master Yi? You and Sha Zhu don't get along?"

He wasn't stupid; he could tell from those words that Yi Zhonghai harbored resentment for a long time.

But it doesn't matter anymore—he's leaving tomorrow, and the grudges in this lousy factory are no longer his concern.

Moreover, he also harbored a deep resentment towards He Yuzhu.

When this guy arrived, he first stunned everyone with his skill in cooking big pot dishes; that was a talent, and he acknowledged it.

But you inspected the hygiene to the point of finding blind spots in the kitchen, and you tightened the controls on every process. Isn't that a bit excessive? In just a few months, the entire cafeteria became your impregnable empire.

What kind of power does he have as the director? Besides submitting ingredient lists, he has absolutely no authority!

You think you're so great and capable? Can you do it all by yourself? Have you ever thought about how embarrassed the people sitting above you are?

Thinking of this, Director Zhang felt a surge of anger and snorted coldly, "Forget it, I won't get involved in any of your grudges."

What do you want from me? I'm leaving now; I need to make room for the new director.

As he was about to leave, Yi Zhonghai hurriedly stopped him: "Wait! Old Zhang, you've been in the factory for so many years, you're practically a veteran... I want to ask you something, if it's convenient, just tell me the truth."

"Heh." Director Zhang glanced at him sideways, directly exposing him, "It's for He Yuzhu again, isn't it? One hundred yuan."

"What?!" Yi Zhonghai's expression changed. "I just asked one question, and you're asking for a hundred? Even the most outrageous demands are this ruthless!"

Director Zhang remained calm and exhaled a smoke ring: "If I knew the inside story, I would tell you without you asking."

After all—I don't have much affection for that kid either.

But you have to understand one thing: his influence in the kitchen is already deeply entrenched.

The chefs and helpers were almost all won over by his culinary skills.

You want to mess with him? Think about the consequences first.

He paused, his gaze deep: "This hundred yuan isn't for buying information, it's for buying a reminder—knowing too much about some things isn't necessarily a good thing."

Yi Zhonghai's expression shifted between light and shadow. After a moment of silence, he said in a low voice, "Director Zhang, do you really know He Daqing?"

"We've worked together for seven or eight years, from the back kitchen of the steel rolling mill to the joint public-private enterprise. We've dealt with pots and pans for half our lives." Director Zhang grinned, a hint of sarcasm in his eyes. "Do you think I don't know him?"

He paused, then lowered his voice even further: "Master Yi, a hundred yuan is a lot, but it's only a little over a month's salary for you."

I've been transferred to a facial tissue factory. My family needs the money, and you'll have to pay it whether you like it or not.

Before the words were even finished, the factory's public address system suddenly blared, a powerful female voice piercing the air: