Courtyard Houses: The Great Masters of a Nation Hidden Within

Autumn, 1959.

With his bedding roll in one hand and his luggage in the other, Gao Jianguo stood in front of the peeling paint door of No. 95 Nanluoguxiang and let out a long sigh.

Seven years.

After seven whole years, I've finally arrived at this place.

I've heard people talk about this eight hundred times in my past life, so I'm determined to stay here for decades in this life.

In his previous life, Gao Jianguo was just an ordinary student at a top university, majoring in electronic engineering, with a focus on automation.

On the day he time-traveled, he was in the supermarket where he worked, watching the TV series "Siheyuan" during his free time.

Given his temperament, he wouldn't even touch a script from this era.

She couldn't resist the fact that her ambiguous crush liked to watch it.

For the sake of that last little spark of romance in his twilight years of college, he had no choice but to go along with it.

People, you know, often don't really know their own limitations.

After a while, Gao Jianguo had to admit that he couldn't escape the "it's actually delicious" adage.

Turns out, I have a gossip-loving streak deep down.

You know what, it's really addictive.

That day at the supermarket, I had almost finished watching TV when a blue-purple arc of light suddenly flashed before my eyes.

A "crack" sound exploded next to my ear.

My last thought before losing consciousness was still swirling in my head: "Damn, guys, remember to wipe my hard drive!!!"

Gao Jianguo became the only unlucky one in that "thunderclap from a clear sky" online sensation.

The blue arc of electricity, which appeared out of nowhere, swept through several shops on the street, but he was the only one who was taken away.

There wasn't even a trace left afterwards.

When he opened his eyes again, he had already traveled through time, standing in 1953 with the background of an orphan who had joined the army.

The soil beneath our feet is the blood-soaked ground of the war that founded our nation.

It must be a time warp; he transmigrated back several years and became an eighteen-year-old lad.

In his previous life, he was a seasoned military enthusiast with a strong passion for live-action CS.

Falling into this environment, coupled with the carefree thought that "I was given a second life, so I might as well live it up," Gao Jianguo was truly fearless on the battlefield.

He's highly skilled, daring, quick-witted, and adapts to tactics faster than flipping through a book.

He couldn't even remember how many enemies he had killed, and he never failed a mission.

He became a platoon leader, joined the organization, and received the title of combat hero several times.

In 1955, Gao Jianguo, then 21 years old, was demobilized from the army while serving as a platoon leader.

During his time away from the military, he used all his exam-taking skills and managed to get into the Electrical Engineering Department of Wudaokou Vocational and Technical College, where he continued to work in his old field of automation.

Four years have passed in the blink of an eye, and it will be time to receive my graduation certificate soon.

That day, a sudden "ding" sounded in my head.

Immediately following was a series of AI-synthesized words from my past life, buzzing and exploding in my brain: "Host's foundation detected, system, activate!!!"

The news is actually good news.

It was that AI-generated accent that made Gao Jianguo feel itchy all over.

It's exactly the same kind of "Look, this man's name is Xiao Shuai..." vibe that I can't hold back.

While cursing the lousy voice in his heart, he couldn't help but laugh.

They've finally arrived.

The system—the backer of time travelers, the standard equipment for those lost in time and space, and a handy tool for growing bigger and stronger—has finally arrived.

We're a little late, but since we're already here, it's a good thing.

After fiddling with it for a while, Gao Jianguo finally figured it out.

This system exists, but not all of it.

I haven't seen many of its amazing features.

Gao Jianguo, with the tenacity of an engineering student, compiled a list of systems.

Aside from a sudden boost to his physical attributes, there were only a few things: firstly, he could now collect 5 kilograms of supplies every day.

The scope of supplies was narrowed down to the few shops that were struck by lightning along with him.

We calculate the weight, regardless of its value or size.

There's only one requirement: localization and adaptation to different eras are necessary.

For example, if you want to take out a cell phone, what you get is a walkie-talkie or step-by-step phone that's relevant to this day.

The unpaid portion can be saved.

Without taking anything out for two hundred days, you can produce a ton of stuff in one go.

Counting on his fingers the current situation, Gao Jianguo felt incredibly fortunate.

There's a supermarket inside the shop that got slapped.

Secondly, the system provides a common but incredibly useful feature – storage space.

Not much, ten cubic meters, which is 10,000 liters.

Regardless of shape or weight, the calculation is based on the enclosed volume.

A mineral water bottle with the cap screwed on takes up about half a liter.

But if it's an empty bottle without a cap, it's only about ten milliliters.

This thing works well.

The reason why something can become so ubiquitous is simply because it's genuinely effective.

The last thing is that you can draw a prize every Sunday.

What he was drawing was the knowledge and text that Gao Jianguo had flipped through or stored in the phone that had been destroyed along with him.

Whether you draw a mule or a horse is uncertain.

It might be extremely useful, or it might be completely useless.

On the first Sunday, the article he drew was a flop online article he had previously parodied, titled "Siheyuan: I Do Scientific Research While Eating Melons".

It's useless.

Gao Jianguo was quite confident about this function.

He has the nature of a hamster, and his phone is filled with a bunch of information he found online.

Although I've hardly ever turned it over, I still manage to smash it fifty-two times a year, and eventually I can find something useful in the process.

In summary, the system has taken care of all three things for Gao Jianguo: having enough to eat, living comfortably, and moving up in the ranks.

He was quite satisfied.

I'm going to live a comfortable life now.

The system also dropped its only hard leverage.

You could call it a mission: because "Siheyuan" was something he was enjoying before he transmigrated, or rather, it was the unique anchor that pulled him here.

The events and troubles from the original story are about to unfold, and the connection between "The Courtyard House" and him is becoming increasingly complex.

Gao Jianguo had to move into a courtyard house, live his life there, and shut himself off from the world.

When will our stay end?

simple.

Whichever episode you were in in your past life, that's where you'll live.

His efforts and calculations paid off. In the autumn of 1959, he was assigned to the Third Steel Rolling Mill in Beijing, also known as the Red Star Steel Rolling Mill.

The factory is quite large, a huge operation with around ten thousand employees.

With his university degree, which was more precious than gold these days, plus his years of military service and achievements on the battlefield, and some minor inventions and creations he made upon graduation, Gao Jianguo was promoted to a permanent position as soon as he stepped into the factory.

When assigning grades, the highest level for technicians was given: Level 10.

They even qualified for housing allocation.

After registering for duty, Gao Jianguo's first task was to go to the organization branch to settle his organizational affiliation.

This is a matter of life and death; we can't afford to give anything away.

After getting everything settled, I turned around and went to the logistics department of the steel rolling mill, heading straight for the house.

I chatted with the section chief in charge of the room for a while, gave him a whole pack of Peony cigarettes, and then casually placed two cans of milk powder on the section chief's desk.

The movement was as light as water flowing downhill, as natural as a matter of course.

The house is in hand.

The east wing of the front courtyard of a traditional courtyard house.

The section chief was incredibly enthusiastic, muttering to himself, "This courtyard is great. There are lots of people from the factory here, it's lively, and the neighbors are all honest and kind. Every time the neighborhood is giving awards for outstanding performance, it always gets that 'Civilized Courtyard' plaque. You can't go wrong moving in here."

Gao Jianguo smiled broadly and responded with thanks.

But in my mind, something was churning: everything else was fine, but honesty... well, it was hard to say.

On second thought, it's only human nature.

Even a single pot of rice can produce a hundred different kinds of people. It's good enough if there are any who are enthusiastic; expecting everyone to be completely open and honest would be a bad life.