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

He Yuzhu returned to the city this time for a permit.

The lab expansion required new equipment and materials, and every document needed a stamp. He spent two days running between several departments, his legs nearly worn thin. He finally received the approval on the afternoon of the third day.

After leaving the last department, he didn't rush back.

The city was still the same as always, crowded with people and cars, bustling with activity. He walked through several alleys to the foot of the overpass, looking up at the wooden bridge—painted red, its railings gleaming from being touched so many times. He remembered when he was a child, He Daqing had brought him here, and they had bought a string of candied hawthorns under the bridge.

Just then, someone called out to him from the bridge.

"elder brother!"

He looked up.

He Yushui stood by the bridge railing, waving at him. Her braid swayed in the wind, and her eyes squinted as she smiled. Standing beside her was a man in a blue jacket, with short hair and thin metal-rimmed glasses.

Qin Huairu.

He Yuzhu was stunned for a moment.

He Yushui had already run down from the bridge and grabbed his sleeve.

"Brother! What are you doing here?"

He Yuzhu looked at her: "Get things done. How come you—"

He Yushui glanced back at Qin Huairu, who was walking this way, and lowered her voice: "Sister Qin brought me out shopping. She's off today."

Qin Huairu walked up to him, her face slightly flushed: "Dean He... Dean He."

He Yuzhu nodded: "Reporter Qin."

He Yushui looked at this person and that person from the side, then chuckled: "You two, why are you acting like you don't know each other?"

Qin Huairu's face turned even redder.

He Yushui tugged at He Yuzhu's sleeve: "Brother, let's go take a picture. There are people taking pictures over there."

He Yuzhu looked in the direction she pointed. Under the overpass, a middle-aged man wearing glasses was setting up an old-fashioned camera, with a sign next to him that read: "Photos, 50 cents each."

Before he could speak, He Yushui had already pulled him away.

Qin Huairu followed behind, her pace a little slow.

The photographer had them stand by the railing of the overpass. He Yushui stood in the middle, holding He Yuzhu's hand with her left and Qin Huairu's hand with her right.

"Smile, don't keep a straight face."

He Yushui laughed so hard her eyes disappeared. Qin Huairu's lips curled slightly, her eyes glancing towards He Yuzhu. He Yuzhu stood ramrod straight, looking at the camera.

Click.

The foreman waved his hand: "Alright, come pick it up the day after tomorrow."

He Yushui ran over and leaned over the table to look at the roll of film. He Yuzhu stood beside her, waiting.

Qin Huairu walked over and stood beside him.

"Rain said you haven't been back for a long time."

He Yuzhu nodded: "Busy."

A gust of wind blew, ruffling the hair on her forehead. She raised her hand to tidy it, but then touched her glasses and put it down again.

He Yushui ran back, holding the photo receipt in her hand.

"Brother, will you come to pick it up the day after tomorrow, or should I come?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment and said, "You come. I'm going back to the mountains tomorrow."

He Yushui nodded, folded the voucher neatly, and stuffed it into her pocket.

The place we ate was a small restaurant next to the overpass.

He Yushui ordered: a bowl of braised pork, a plate of scrambled eggs, a bowl of hot and sour soup, and three bowls of rice. She ate and talked—about school, about things in the courtyard, and how the deaf old lady had been talking about him lately.

He Yuzhu listened, occasionally humming in agreement, but his chopsticks never stopped.

Qin Huairu ate very slowly, picking up a piece of food with her chopsticks and chewing it for a long time. She looked at He Yuzhu, hesitant to speak.

After finishing her meal, He Yushui pushed her bowl aside and ran to the counter to watch people calculate their bills.

There were only two people left at the table.

Qin Huairu put down her chopsticks and looked out the window.

"Our newspaper wants to write a series of reports on industrial technological innovation."

He Yuzhu raised his head.

Qin Huairu didn't look at him and continued, "Some people say you made contributions in Korea and came back to develop new technologies. That's a good story."

She paused, turned her face, and smiled: "But I think you definitely wouldn't want to."

He Yuzhu looked at her.

Qin Huairu turned her face back to the window and looked at the people coming and going.

"Then I won't write it."

She picked up the bowl and took a mouthful of rice.

He Yuzhu remained silent for a while, then lowered his head and continued eating.

He Yushui ran back and sat down between the two of them: "What are you talking about? Why aren't you saying anything?"

Qin Huairu looked up and smiled, "It's nothing. I was just asking about your brother's job."

He Yushui looked at her, then at He Yuzhu, something flickering in her eyes.

After we finished eating, it was getting dark.

He Yuzhu escorted them to the alley entrance. He Yushui held onto his hand tightly, refusing to let go.

"Brother, you must come back for the Chinese New Year."

He Yuzhu nodded: "Definitely."

He Yushui let go of her hand, took a few steps forward, and then turned back.

She didn't say anything, just stood there watching the two of them.

Then, with a flick of her braid, she turned and ran away.

Qin Huairu stood there, her face flushed.

She took a pair of gloves out of her handbag and handed them to He Yuzhu.

He Yuzhu looked down. It was dark gray, densely woven, with neat, even stitches. He moved his fingers, gently stroking the edge of the glove.

He raised his head.

Qin Huairu had already turned and left.

After taking a few steps, he turned back and said, "Be careful on the road."

She ran into the alley and disappeared under the dim streetlights.

He Yuzhu stood there, holding the gloves in his hands.

A breeze was blowing, and it was a bit chilly.

He unfolded the gloves, folded them carefully, and put them into the inner pocket close to his chest.

Then he turned and walked towards the station.

He walked a few dozen steps and then stopped.

I glanced back.

The lights on the other side of the overpass were already on, people were coming and going on the bridge, and the stalls below were still hawking their wares.

He saw a person standing on the other side of the bridge, stuffing something into his clothes.

camera.

He Yuzhu stared at that person.

The person turned and walked away quickly, disappearing into the crowd.

He Yuzhu didn't chase after him. He looked away and walked towards the station. After taking a few steps, he removed his hand from his inner pocket and let it hang at his side.

He didn't stop walking, nor did he look back.