Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

The first name on the list is Ma Wenyuan.

He Yuzhu flipped the paper over and over again, reading it three times. The technician was forty-three years old. Before liberation, he had worked in a Japanese-owned ironworks; after liberation, he had worked in a steel rolling mill. He had a clean record, excellent skills, and was consistently recognized as an advanced worker. Last year, he received a certificate of merit, which was displayed on his wall, visible as soon as you entered his house.

That's all the information Old Sun gave him. But He Yuzhu had been listening to far more than he'd read on paper during his time at the factory. Some said Old Ma was skilled, some said he had a strange temper, some said he didn't like to get involved with people and would leave as soon as he got off work.

He Yuzhu noticed something: Old Ma walked faster than usual every Wednesday night.

On the first Wednesday, He Yuzhu didn't go. He stayed in the office until seven o'clock, and when he came out, the old bicycle in the shed was gone.

On the second Wednesday, he left work early.

The chain on the old bus in the factory was rattling, and it took a lot of effort to pedal it. He Yuzhu was fifty or sixty meters away, staring at the back of the old horse. The old horse rode at a steady pace, his spine always upright.

Leaving the factory area and heading east, you pass through two alleys and turn onto a narrow street. Both sides are lined with single-story houses, gray walls and gray tiles, their windows emitting a dim, yellowish light. Old Ma stopped in front of a door and pushed the car into the yard.

He Yuzhu rode over without stopping, glancing at it. There was a wooden sign hanging by the door; he couldn't make out the words, but he recognized the design.

cross.

He rode over, turned a corner, and stopped under a locust tree. He kept his legs on the ground, without getting off, and just waited. The wind at the end of March was still cool, making the back of his neck stiff.

Old Ma went in for almost an hour before coming out. It was completely dark. He was pushing his bike, not riding it, walking slowly with his head down. He Yuzhu, half a street away, saw him stop under the streetlight and wipe his face.

On the third day, He Yuzhu went to see Lao Sun.

Old Sun's office was at the end of a hutong (alleyway). There was no sign on the door, just a house number. He Yuzhu knocked three times, two short knocks and one long knock. The door opened a crack, and he squeezed in sideways.

Old Sun closed the door and poured him a glass of water.

"You found it?"

He Yuzhu recounted the story of the surveillance. He paused when he got to the part where Old Ma wiped his eyes. Old Sun listened without much expression, tapping his fingers twice on the table.

"The priest at the church is named Raymond. He's an American who came in 1950. He's supposedly here to preach, but our people have been watching him for almost two years."

He Yuzhu waited for him to continue.

"He has connections overseas. We haven't figured out exactly who or through what channels." Old Sun looked at him. "We've been keeping an eye on Old Ma; he seems fine. But we didn't know about him going to church."

He Yuzhu picked up the cup and took a sip. The water was too hot, and he grimaced.

"I'll go and make contact."

Old Sun didn't reply, but took out a cigarette from the drawer and offered it to him. He Yuzhu waved his hand, and Old Sun lit it himself and took a puff.

"How do we make contact?"

"I'm the deputy factory director, in charge of technology. Old Ma is a technician, so it's perfectly legitimate for me to go to him for advice. After a while, it's also understandable that I'd go to the church with him."

Old Sun remained silent for a while, the smoke dissipating in front of his face.

"Be careful. Raymond is not a simple man."

He Yuzhu started asking Lao Ma for advice.

The first question was about furnace temperature control. Old Ma explained in great detail, saying very little, but every word was to the point. After finishing, he packed up his tools to leave. He Yuzhu stopped him, making conversation by asking about the food in the cafeteria. Old Ma hesitated for a moment, then said it was alright. And he left.

The second question was about steel cooling. Old Ma explained in detail again, and after he finished, he suddenly glanced at He Yuzhu. His gaze was ambiguous, whether it was wariness or something else entirely.

"Deputy Factory Director He, are you asking these questions because you want to learn all my skills, or...?"

He left the rest of his sentence unfinished.

He Yuzhu's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't show it on his face. He smiled and said, "Learning a few skills will help me work with you guys in the future."

Old Ma didn't say anything more and lowered his head to continue packing his things.

He Yuzhu, standing to the side, suddenly asked, "Old Ma, I heard you go to church every week?"

Old Ma paused for a moment.

"Um."

"I've never been to church before. When are you going next? Could you show me around?"

Old Ma looked up and stared at him for several seconds.

Are you religious?

"I don't believe it. I just want to see."

Old Ma didn't say anything, picked up his tool bag and left.

He Yuzhu thought the matter was hopeless.

But the following Wednesday, when Lao Ma was leaving get off work, he walked to his office door and knocked.

"Are you coming or not?"

The church was small, converted from an ordinary house. A cross hung at the entrance, and the windows were fitted with stained glass windows with portraits of people on them, whose names He Yuzhu couldn't recall.

Old Ma led him inside and found a seat by the side. A man in a black robe was standing in front of them, speaking in Chinese, but with a strange accent.

He Yuzhu listened to him, but his eyes darted around. There weren't many people, only about ten, old and young, all ordinary folks. The priest spoke for a while, then started handing out snacks, like biscuits, very small pieces.

After the ceremony, Old Ma stood up to leave. The priest came over and greeted them.

"Mr. Ma, who is this?"

Old Ma was taken aback for a moment: "This is Deputy Factory Director He from our factory."

The priest extended his hand, smiling. He Yuzhu grasped it. The hand was soft and well-maintained.

"Raymond. It's a pleasure to meet you, Deputy Factory Director He."

He Yuzhu nodded: "He Weiguo."

Raymond looked at him with a gentle gaze, but He Yuzhu felt he had seen it somewhere before. Perhaps it was the gaze in those foreign pictorials in the photo studio.

"Is Deputy Factory Director He also religious?"

"I don't believe you. I just came to see for myself."

Raymond smiled. "You're welcome anytime. The Lord's door is always open."

Just as He Yuzhu was about to leave, Raymond suddenly said, "Brother, it's still cold outside, wear more clothes."

His Northeastern accent is so authentic. It's the kind of authentic accent that foreigners learning Chinese can't achieve.

He Yuzhu paused and turned to look at him. Raymond was still smiling, but there was something else in that smile.

He Yuzhu went again next Wednesday.

Old Ma didn't come. There were even fewer people in the church than last time. Raymond saw him, smiled, and continued speaking. After he finished, he walked over and handed He Yuzhu a cup of tea.

"Deputy Factory Director He, have a cup of tea before you leave."

He Yuzhu took the teacup and sat down. Raymond sat down next to him, looking at the empty benches in front of them.

"Mr. Ma didn't come today."

"Um."

Raymond turned to look at him: "Deputy Factory Director He seems quite interested in this place."

He Yuzhu took a sip of tea but didn't reply. The tea was a bit bitter, not the kind he usually drank.

"You watched it twice, what did you figure out?"

He Yuzhu put down his teacup and looked up at him.

"I can tell Father Lei's Northeastern accent is better than mine."

Raymond paused for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"I spent a few years in Northeast China, during the war."

He Yuzhu looked at him: "Which way?"

Raymond's smile faded. After a few seconds of silence, he stood up and poured tea for He Yuzhu.

"Deputy Factory Director He asked very detailed questions."

He Yuzhu also stood up: "The tea is good. We'll come again next time."

He walked out. As he reached the door, Raymond said from behind:

"If Deputy Factory Director He is free, let's meet next Wednesday at this time. I'd like to invite you for tea. Let's have a chat."

He Yuzhu did not turn around.

He pushed open the door and went outside. It was already dark, and the streetlights cast a long shadow of him. He got on his old bicycle and rode towards the factory. The chain still rattled, making a sound with every pedal stroke.

Halfway there, he suddenly turned and rode towards Ma Wenyuan's house.

In the distance, he saw that the door was still open, and dim light shone from inside. Two people sat inside, Old Ma and his wife, facing each other, neither speaking. The light cast their shadows on the ground, motionless.

He Yuzhu stopped in the shadows and watched for a while.

What exactly is the bitterness in Lao Ma's heart?

He got on his bike and drove off. The sound of the chain echoed through the alley for a long time.