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

Old Sun's document didn't have many words on it.

"Security Department Report: Technician Zhao Weiguo has been loitering near the data room late at night on three separate occasions recently. Lin Jianguo reports that he has been mentally disoriented lately and frequently taking leave. We recommend monitoring his condition."

He Yuzhu folded the paper and stuffed it into his breast pocket.

Qin Huairu was cooking in the kitchen. The spatula clanged against the iron pot. He walked over and stood in the doorway watching for a while. She was wearing that faded blue blouse, her hair was casually tied up with chopsticks, and a small section of her nape was exposed, slightly reddened by the stove fire.

"Not eating anymore?"

Qin Huairu turned around.

"Eat. You go first, I'll get it right away."

He Yuzhu nodded and walked into the courtyard.

Old Lu was squatting by the hanging flower gate, smoking. The cigarette butt glowed and dimmed. Seeing him come out, Old Lu stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.

"Commander, about that matter—"

He Yuzhu waved his hand.

"Let's take a look first."

When Lin Jianguo came to report, his face was not good.

He placed the stack of lithography machine progress reports on the table, pressing his hand down on them without letting go.

"Dean, there's something I need to tell you."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

Lin Jianguo opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a while, he spoke: "Zhao Weiguo has been acting strange lately. He takes leave every few days, and when he does come, he's distracted. The day before yesterday, I asked him to check a set of data, and he copied three numbers wrong. Three numbers." He repeated.

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Lin Jianguo took a step forward: "He wasn't like this before. He's skilled and hardworking, but I'm not entirely at ease with him."

He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the window. Outside, several workers walked by carrying blueprints, talking and laughing.

Have you spoken to him?

"I asked him, and he said he had something to do at home. When I asked again, he wouldn't say anything more."

He Yuzhu remained silent for a while. Sunlight slanted in through the window, illuminating half of his face, while the other half remained in shadow.

"Don't worry about this. Let the security department investigate."

Lin Jianguo was stunned for a moment.

"Dean, he—"

"Let's find out the details first." He Yuzhu didn't turn around.

Old Lu kept an eye on it for two days.

There was some activity on the third night.

At two in the morning, a sliver of light shone through the window of the archives room. It was very faint, flickering briefly before going out.

Old Lu lay prone behind the row of holly bushes opposite, gripping his gun, his eyes fixed on the dark window. Two soldiers lay prone beside him, barely daring to breathe.

I waited for half an hour.

The door opened.

A figure crouched down and walked along the wall. When he reached the holly bush, Old Lu suddenly stood up.

The man froze, then turned to run. Two soldiers pounced on him from the left and right, pinning him to the ground. He struggled a few times, then stopped moving.

Old Lu walked up to him and took what he was holding. It was a miniature film reel and several sheets of handwritten paper, densely covered with process parameters.

Under the moonlight, that face was raised.

Zhao Weiguo.

The lights in the interrogation room were blindingly bright.

It was an unshaded incandescent bulb, its light concentrated on the chair in the middle of the room. Zhao Weiguo sat in the very center of the light, his hands cuffed, his back hunched, like a withered crop.

He Yuzhu sat in the shadows outside the lamplight, his face hidden in the darkness, only his eyes shining brightly in the lamplight.

He didn't speak.

Silence, like mercury, slowly filled the room, making it hard to breathe.

"Speak," He Yuzhu said calmly.

Zhao Weiguo did not move.

Old Lu slammed the papers on the table: "These were taken from the safe. The key you made."

Zhao Weiguo raised his head, glanced at the papers, and then lowered it again.

He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the edge of the circle of light. One foot was in the light, and the other was in the shadows.

"Zhao Weiguo, was this the hand you used when you took the oath on the day you joined the Party?" He pointed to Zhao Weiguo's handcuffed hand.

Zhao Weiguo's shoulders trembled violently.

"The organization entrusted you with the most critical part of the lithography machine, and you not only reached in, you also pulled things out." He Yuzhu's voice suddenly rose, "What you pulled out wasn't just paper, it was the lives of hundreds of people in our entire institute. It's the lifeline of the nation."

Zhao Weiguo suddenly raised his head. His lips trembled violently, and he made a few hoarse sounds in his throat, unable to utter a single word. Finally, he slid off the chair and knelt on the ground with a thud.

"Dean, I'm sorry to the Party, I'm sorry to you—but I was forced into this, they arrested my mother..."

He Yuzhu's hands clenched tightly inside his sleeves, veins bulging.

He looked at the young man kneeling on the ground, huddled in a ball, and remained silent for a long time.

Then he squatted down, without helping, and stared into Zhao Weiguo's eyes.

"Zhao Weiguo, what did your mother say to you when she sent you to school? Didn't she tell you to become a useful person?"

Zhao Weiguo's face was covered in tears.

He Yuzhu lowered his voice even further, like a dull knife cutting flesh: "If your mother knew that her life was bought with the lives of the entire hospital, do you think she could swallow that meal? She would rather have smashed her head against those bastards' wall and died, believe it or not?"

Zhao Weiguo shuddered. The cry caught in his throat, turning into suppressed sobs.

"Has the item been handed over?"

Zhao Weiguo shook his head frantically: "No, not yet... I can't bring myself to do it... but I don't know if my mother is still alive..."

He Yuzhu stood up and retreated into the shadows. The lights shone again on Zhao Weiguo, like a monologue on a stage.

"Three days later, at the abandoned factory in the east of the city," He Yuzhu's voice came from the darkness. "Go."

three days later.

Abandoned factory in the east of the city.

Zhao Weiguo stood in the middle of the dilapidated factory, clutching the roll of film in his hand. Wind blew in through the broken windows, making the discarded electrical wires on the walls sway back and forth. Deep inside the factory, there was the sound of dripping water, one drip after another, like a countdown clock.

A flock of sparrows flew across the broken roof, their shadows skimming the ground. Zhao Weiguo jolted, looked up, and saw only birds.

I waited for two hours.

Nobody came.

As it was getting dark, a person appeared at the factory gate. They didn't walk in; they threw in a letter and then disappeared.

Zhao Weiguo ran over, picked up the letter, and opened it.

"You are under surveillance. The old location is no longer valid. Await further instructions."

His hands were shaking.

Old Lu emerged from the shadows, took the letter, glanced at it, and his expression changed.

"Commander, they've found us."

He Yuzhu came out from behind the factory and took the letter. He turned the letter over and examined it against the light. It was on ordinary white paper, written with a fountain pen, and the handwriting was neat.

"Walk."

He Yuzhu sat in the car, looking at the pitch-black night.

Old Lu started the car. The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the bumpy dirt road ahead. The car bounced along.

He Yuzhu leaned back in his chair, reached into his pocket, and felt for the crumpled piece of paper. It was a report from the security department; the three characters "Zhao Weiguo" traced across his fingertips.

It's been half a month. This child is carrying it all alone. He puts on an act for his colleagues during the day, and for his conscience at night.

How much he must have suffered.

The car turned onto the main road and became more stable.

Old Lu glanced at him in the rearview mirror but didn't say anything.

He Yuzhu pulled his hand out of his pocket and reached for the seat next to him, looking for something to lean against.

He touched a piece of paper.

It's not his.

He Yuzhu picked up the paper and looked at it in the dim light coming in through the car window.

There is only one line of text above:

"Commander He, how have you been?"

His hand paused.

I suddenly looked up at the window. There was nothing outside but the vast darkness of night.

"parking."

Old Lu slammed on the brakes.

"Commander?"

He Yuzhu didn't say anything. He clenched the paper tightly in his palm.

They knew it was him.

They were watching from the shadows the whole time.