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

I bought the suit three days ago in Wangfujing.

He Yuzhu stood in front of the mirror, turning his collar inside out and adjusting it, but nothing seemed quite right. He Yushui leaned against the doorframe, laughing so hard she couldn't straighten up.

"Brother, you look like you stole this."

He ignored her and continued pulling at her collar.

He Yushui walked over, turned up his collar, and smoothed out the wrinkles on his shoulders.

"Alright. You're not bad-looking to begin with, and this outfit is enough to fool people."

He Yuzhu glanced at the mirror.

Can it fool people?

He didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't wear that old military uniform to the place he was going to today.

Beijing Hotel.

The building was a six-story gray brick building with tall, large windows. Several cars, both black and gray, were parked in front. A uniformed doorman opened the door, and he went inside.

The lobby was carpeted, making no sound when you stepped on it. People were speaking in hushed tones. He walked to the elevator and pressed the up button.

Third floor. Room 308.

Knock on the door.

The door opened.

A man in his early forties stood in the doorway, wearing a navy blue suit and with his hair slicked back. He had a smile on his face and extended his hand.

"Deputy Factory Director He? I've heard so much about you. I'm Zheng Huaiyuan, from Hong Kong."

He Yuzhu grasped that hand. It was soft, without calluses, and didn't look like someone who had done manual labor.

"Mr. Zheng."

Zheng Huaiyuan ushered him inside. Inside, there was a small round table, two chairs, and a teapot, teacups, and a plate of snacks on the table. Zheng Huaiyuan poured him tea and sat down himself.

"Deputy Factory Director He, Mr. Li mentioned you to me. He said you're a talented person, and you're very good at technical work in the factory."

He Yuzhu picked up his teacup but didn't drink it.

"What does Mr. Zheng do?"

Zheng Huaiyuan smiled.

"Me? I studied engineering. I studied in the US a few years ago, and later worked as a technical consultant for a company in Hong Kong. I'm in Beijing this time for some business, and by the way—Mr. Li asked me to talk to you."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"Which school did Mr. Zheng attend?"

"Caltech," Zheng Huaiyuan answered quickly. "I went there in 1947 and graduated in 1952. I saw a lot during those years in the United States."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

Where is Caltech?

Zheng Huaiyuan was stunned for a moment.

"In Los Angeles, Pasadena."

He Yuzhu nodded, then asked:

"That arena in Los Angeles, what's it called again? I've been there, but I've forgotten the name."

Zheng Huaiyuan's smile froze for a moment.

"A stadium? There are many stadiums in Los Angeles. Which one are you referring to?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment.

"It's that...the one that hosted the Olympics. The one in the 192s."

Zheng Huaiyuan paused for two seconds.

"That one... is called the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. But it's not used much anymore."

He Yuzhu picked up his teacup and took a sip.

That voice inside me rang out.

[Micro-expression analysis basics (one-time) - 100,000 points required]

[Analysis results: Pupil dilation 0.3 mm, slight facial muscle tremors, speech rate 12% faster than normal – Overall assessment: 97% probability of lying.]

He put down his teacup.

"Mr. Zheng, you've lived in the United States for five years. What did you think of it?"

Zheng Huaiyuan's smile returned.

"Great! Their technology is advanced, their industry is sophisticated, they're so much better than us here. If Deputy Factory Director He could go out and see for himself, he'd know just how big the gap is."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"How did Mr. Zheng manage to get out back then?"

Zheng Huaiyuan was stunned for a moment.

"It's just... normal studying abroad. Exams, application, visa, step by step."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

"In 1947, when the country was still at war, how could they have taken the exam?"

Zheng Huaiyuan's hand, holding the teacup, froze in mid-air.

He put down his teacup. His hand lingered on the table for a moment before he withdrew it.

"Deputy Factory Director He, you asked very detailed questions."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Zheng Huaiyuan was silent for a few seconds, and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered.

"Deputy Factory Director He, let's be frank. Mr. Li speaks very highly of you. I've come here today to discuss some practical matters with you."

He Yuzhu waited for him to continue.

Zheng Huaiyuan leaned forward.

"We've all heard about the oxygen top-blowing technology you're working on at the factory. It's advanced even abroad. If you're willing to cooperate, we can offer better terms—equipment, funding, and even—your personal future."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

"What future?"

Zheng Huaiyuan smiled.

"Where would you like to go? The United States, Hong Kong, or Taiwan? We can arrange that. Your skills are in demand everywhere."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Zheng Huaiyuan waited a few seconds, then added:

"Of course, that depends on your sincerity. You'd better do something for us first to prove yourself."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"What is it?"

Zheng Huaiyuan took a piece of paper out of his suit pocket and handed it over.

He Yuzhu took it and looked at it. The paper contained a list of the factory's equipment models, technical parameters, and production data. He had seen some of them before, and some he had never encountered.

"Get these first," Zheng Huaiyuan said. "It shouldn't be difficult, right? You're the deputy factory director; you can get these documents easily."

He Yuzhu folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

"OK."

Zheng Huaiyuan's smile returned.

"Deputy Factory Director He, I knew you were a smart man. If this is done, your future will be bright."

He stood up and extended his hand.

He Yuzhu also stood up and shook hands with him.

Zheng Huaiyuan walked to the door, opened it, and glanced back at him.

"Next time we meet, I'll treat you to a drink."

The door closed.

He Yuzhu stood inside, listening to the footsteps fade into the distance. He stood there for a while, then walked to the door, opened it a crack, and peeked out. The corridor was empty.

He closed the door, walked to the chair where Zheng Huaiyuan had just been sitting, squatted down, and reached under the chair.

The miniature listening device was firmly attached.

It was already dark when I left the Beijing Hotel.

He Yuzhu stood at the door, straightening the collar of his suit jacket. The doorman glanced at him but said nothing.

He walked toward the bus stop.

Halfway there, he remembered the question he had just asked.

The Los Angeles Olympics were held in 1932. The stadium was called the "Coliseum" by Americans, not some kind of "memorial stadium."

Zheng Huaiyuan said he went to the United States in 1947 and graduated in 1952. Even if he spent five years at Caltech, it would be impossible for him to be so unfamiliar with Los Angeles.

97% of them are lying.

The remaining 3% was the leeway he left for himself.

When she got home, He Yushui was collecting laundry in the yard. She was taken aback when she saw him come in wearing that suit.

"Brother, where did you go today?"

He Yuzhu took off his suit jacket and draped it over his arm.

"Let's talk about something."

He Yushui walked over carrying the clothes and glanced at him. There was something in her eyes, but all she said was:

"Brother, Grandma said she's making dumplings tonight, so she wants you to come home early."

She carried the clothes into the house.

He Yuzhu stood in the courtyard, looking at the closed door.

The voice in my head rang.

[Side Mission 3: Covert Tracking Progress Update - Contact Has Been Made with Personnel in Hong Kong]

[Unmasking the deception and planting a listening device]

[Mission Reward: +350,000 points]

[Current total points: 45,590,000 + 350,000 - 100,000 = 45,840,000 points]

He didn't look at the number.

In the west wing, the old deaf woman's lamp was still on.

He walked over and pushed open the door.

The old woman sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), still sewing. When she saw him come in, she looked up.

"Zhu Zi, were those clothes you wore today borrowed or bought?"

He Yuzhu sat down next to her.

"Bought."

The old lady nodded.

"Good purchase. When going out to meet people, you need to dress presentably."

She lowered her head and continued sewing.

He Yuzhu sat there, watching her sew. The stitches were very fine, one after another, very slowly.

"Grandma," he said.

The old lady didn't look up.

"Um?"

"I'm going on a long trip. I might not be back for a while."

The old lady paused for a moment.

"How far?"

"have no idea."

The old lady continued sewing.

"When are you leaving?"

"I don't know yet."

The old lady put down her needle and thread and looked at him.

She reached out and touched his face. His hand was cold, with large knuckles.

"Pillar, I won't question what you've done. But you have to promise me one thing."

He Yuzhu waited for her to speak.

"Come back alive."

He didn't nod or say anything. He simply clenched the cold hand, then stood up and pushed open the door.

It got dark in the courtyard.

He stood there for a long time.