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

The newspaper was delivered on the third day.

When He Yushui came home from school, she was clutching the Beijing Daily in her hand. Her braids flew up as she ran into the yard. She rushed up to He Yuzhu and shoved the newspaper in his face.

"Brother! You're in the newspaper!"

He Yuzhu took it and looked at it. In the lower left corner of the front page, there was a small piece of paper, about the size of a palm, with the headline: "Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill Achieves Major Breakthrough in Technological Innovation, Young Deputy Director He Yuzhu Makes an Indispensable Contribution." Below it was a photo of him standing in front of the furnace, pointing at the equipment, his face sweaty and his expression somewhat unnatural.

He returned the newspaper to his sister.

"The photo is not good."

He Yushui snatched it back and looked at it again and again.

"Wow! Bro, you're in the newspaper! It's all over the place!"

She pointed to the small print at the bottom of the photo and read it aloud: "Comrade He Yuzhu made meritorious contributions on the Korean battlefield and continued to contribute to the country after his demobilization—Brother, you're a celebrity now."

He Yuzhu didn't reply. He glanced at the newspaper, turned, and walked into the house. He Yushui chased after him, calling out, "Brother, aren't you happy?"

He paused for a moment.

"Happy."

After saying that, he went inside. He Yushui stood in the yard, feeling that her brother was acting a bit strange today.

The next afternoon, the factory office called.

He Yuzhu answered the phone, and Yang Deming was on the other end, his voice lower than usual.

"Someone will pick you up at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Dress formally."

He Yuzhu held the microphone and paused for two seconds.

"Where to?"

Yang Deming remained silent for a while.

"Zhongnanhai."

He hung up the phone and stood there motionless. Outside the window, someone was shouting work chants; inside the workshop, the machines were humming—life seemed the same as always. But he knew something was different.

The car was a black sedan, and the driver, dressed in a Zhongshan suit, spoke very little.

He Yuzhu sat in the back seat, watching the street scene recede behind him. They left the factory area, entered the city, and passed Chang'an Avenue. The further they drove in that direction, the calmer his mind became. He had experienced this calmness before in Korea—before going to the front lines, all distracting thoughts vanished, leaving only the immediate matter at hand.

The car stopped at the entrance. Someone came to check his documents, looked at him, and nodded. The car continued driving in.

The courtyard was large, with many trees. The house wasn't tall, made of gray bricks, and looked simple, but its simplicity was different from others. When He Yuzhu got out of the car, the wind blew by, carrying the scent of pine trees. He stood for two seconds, took a deep breath, and followed the people inside.

The corridor was long. After turning a corner and walking for a while, they stopped in front of a door. The person knocked, opened the door, and stepped aside.

He Yuzhu went inside.

The room wasn't large. There was a long table, a few chairs, and a map hanging on the wall. A man in his sixties, wearing a Zhongshan suit, sat on the sofa by the window. His hair was gray, but his eyes were bright. When he saw He Yuzhu come in, he stood up and extended his hand.

"Comrade He Yuzhu, please sit down."

He Yuzhu grasped that hand. The hand was steady, a little cool, and the grip was just right.

The man gestured for him to sit down, then sat down himself, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

"I've reviewed your oxygen top-blowing plan."

He Yuzhu waited for him to continue.

"Has the factory tried it?"

"I've tried it. The efficiency has increased tenfold."

The man nodded.

"Ten times." He repeated, setting down his teacup. "Do you know how big the gap is between us and other countries right now?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment. He had seen those numbers and those photos in the documents. The gap wasn't just a little bit; it was decades.

"I know a little."

The man looked at him.

"explain."

He Yuzhu told him everything he knew: equipment, processes, management, personnel. He spoke slowly, constantly observing the man's expression. The man listened, nodding occasionally, without interrupting.

After he finished speaking, the man remained silent for a while.

"What you're talking about isn't just about the steel rolling mill."

He Yuzhu didn't respond. He understood what he was saying, but he couldn't say anything.

The man stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to him. Outside the window stood a tree with yellowing leaves.

"You fought in Korea and earned merit. Now you're working in technology and making a name for yourself. You're a capable fighter, a hard worker, and a thoughtful person."

He turned around. The setting sun slanted in through the window, illuminating half of his face. He Yuzhu remembered that look for many years afterward—it wasn't a sizing-up, but a scrutinizing gaze, like looking at a younger member of the family.

"Is there anything else you want?"

He Yuzhu was stunned.

He hadn't expected this question. Before coming, he had considered all sorts of possibilities, but this was the last one. Many thoughts flashed through his mind—would he ask for better pay? Equipment? Personnel? Rank?

But when he opened his mouth, he was talking about something else.

"I want a laboratory."

The man didn't speak, he just looked at him.

He Yuzhu continued, "Slower than before:"

"Not in the factory. Outside the city. A more remote and quiet place. Where I can bring a few people and slowly work out some things."

The man stared at him for several seconds.

"What are you thinking about?"

He Yuzhu remained silent for a while. Some things shouldn't be said too definitively, but they also can't be left unsaid.

"We don't know yet. But some things we have to figure out ourselves. We learned this the hard way back in North Korea—we only knew how to fight, but not how to build. By the time we needed it, it was too late to figure it out."

After he finished speaking, the room was quiet for a while.

The man nodded and sat back down on the sofa. He picked up the phone, dialed a number, and spoke a few words into the receiver in a low voice that He Yuzhu couldn't hear. After speaking for about a minute, he put down the phone and looked at He Yuzhu.

"There's a place in the mountains west of the city, a former military warehouse, now empty. Is that enough?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment. The mountains west of the city were secluded and quiet enough.

"enough."

The man stood up and extended his hand. He Yuzhu also stood up and shook his hand. This time, the handshake lasted a little longer than when he entered.

"Work hard," the man said. "If you need anything, just talk to your factory manager."

He Yuzhu nodded.

The man walked him to the door, placed his hand on the doorknob, and paused for a moment.

"Comrade He Yuzhu."

"Um."

"Your years in North Korea were well spent."

The door opened.

He Yuzhu walked out.

The corridor was still the same corridor. But he stopped halfway down and stood against the wall for two seconds. His back was a little damp, though he hadn't even realized when he'd started sweating.

Stepping outside, a gust of wind woke me up.

The car drove back. He Yuzhu leaned back in the seat, the warmth of their handshake still lingering in his palm. The street scene outside the window rushed past, the same as on the way there, but something was different.

He thought he couldn't tell Yushui about this when he got back.

It was already dark when I got home.

He Yushui sat on the threshold waiting for him. When she saw him come in, she stood up.

"Brother, why are you so late today?"

He Yuzhu took off his coat and draped it over his arm.

"Meeting."

He Yushui looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

He Yuzhu didn't answer. He went into the house, sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), and changed out of his formal clothes. He Yushui followed him in and stood beside him.

"Brother, you seem different today."

He Yuzhu looked up at her.

"What's different?"

He Yushui thought for a moment.

"I can't quite put my finger on it. It's just... different."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He leaned against the window, looking out at the dark courtyard.

In the mountains west of the city.

laboratory.

From today onwards, that will be his new battlefield.