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

The letter was written by Mr. Yuan himself.

He Yuzhu tore open the envelope and pulled out the two pages. The handwriting was forceful, each stroke deliberate, and the paper was torn in some places. He read the letter once, then again.

"Where it grows, hybrid rice yields 420 jin per mu in dry land. That's twice as much as conventional rice."

When he read this sentence, his finger paused on the paper.

"People from several nearby villages came to see it and squatted on the edge of the field, refusing to leave. One old farmer even cried on the spot, saying that he had never seen such drought-resistant rice in his life."

He Yuzhu put down the letter, stood up, and walked to the window. The sky outside was overcast, the sunlight obscured by clouds, but the light was still dazzling. The north had been suffering from drought for three months, and most of the crops in the fields had withered. He Yushui had called a few days ago, saying that the well in the yard required several strokes of the bucket to fill with water.

He turned back to the table and picked up the letter again. The edges of the paper were crumpled from his grip.

The day He Yuzhu went to the experimental field, the sun was scorching.

He squatted on the edge of the field, and Old Yuan squatted beside him. The rice in the field was taller than a person, the ears of rice heavy, bending the stalks down. When the wind blew, it rustled.

Mr. Yuan counted the rice grains one by one, using two fingers to count them. His fingers were thick, and his knuckles were covered in calluses, but his movements were very gentle, as if he were touching a newborn baby.

"Hehe, look at this one, 328 grains per ear." He handed over the ear of rice, his eyes shining.

He Yuzhu took it and rubbed it between his fingers. Full and heavy.

He recalled the time at Changjin Lake when he was so hungry he had to eat tree bark.

"Can it be promoted?"

Mr. Yuan nodded and put the rice stalks back.

"Yes, I can. I've already contacted agricultural technology stations in several counties. I'll start planting next spring." He paused, "but water is still scarce. If we can irrigate one more time, the yield can be even higher."

He Yuzhu looked down at his feet. The ground was cracked, with deep fissures, each large enough to fit two fingers.

He didn't speak.

The wind blew by, and the rice ears rustled again.

The drought will continue into autumn.

The day Lao Sun called, He Yuzhu was in the workshop looking at the life support system testing machine. The machine was humming, and the indicator lights were flashing. Lin Jianguo was squatting on the ground adjusting the parameters, while Qian Nian was taking notes beside him.

The phone rang. He Yuzhu answered it.

There was no sound from the other end.

"Old Sun?"

"Hmm." Old Sun's voice was lower than usual. "Old He, the drought has worsened again."

He Yuzhu held the microphone but didn't speak.

The sound of turning pages came from over there.

"Three counties in Henan suffered a complete crop failure. Hebei isn't much better. The grain reserves in the granaries..." Old Sun paused, "I'll stop here."

Lin Jianguo stopped writing and looked up at He Yuzhu. Qian Nian also stopped writing.

He Yuzhu switched the microphone to the other ear.

"They asked," Old Sun said, "Do you have anything left over there?"

He Yuzhu glanced at the people in the workshop. Lin Jianguo had dark circles under his eyes, and Qian Nian was so thin that his cheekbones protruded.

"have."

Old Sun was silent for two seconds.

"What?"

"Have someone come and pick it up later."

The call ended. He Yuzhu stood there, listening to the busy tone. Only the hum of the machines remained in the workshop.

Lin Jianguo stood up and walked over.

"Dean, are we going out again?"

He Yuzhu shook his head.

"Send someone to pick it up."

That night, He Yuzhu was alone in his office.

He brought up the system interface. The screen shone brightly in the darkness, making his face appear pale.

Artificial rainmaking shells, three batches. 1.5 million.

The foundation of seawater desalination technology, five million.

As he clicked to redeem, his finger paused on the mouse for a moment. Five million—how much could that buy? How many people could it feed?

He remembered what Mr. Yuan had said: "If only we could water it one more time."

Clicked.

Two stacks of documents emerged from the system space and piled on the table. He picked up the one on seawater desalination and opened to the first page. Distillation method. Multi-stage flash distillation. Energy consumption calculation.

It was pitch black outside the window; I couldn't see anything.

The next day, Old Sun came to collect the shells himself.

He picked up the box and weighed it in his hand.

"Is that enough?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment.

"Let's give it a try."

Old Sun nodded and walked out. He turned back at the door.

"Old He, the higher-ups' attitude towards this stuff... well, it's effective, but its origin is unclear. I've deflected all questions they've asked. You, be careful on your end."

He Yuzhu didn't speak, he just nodded.

Old Sun is gone.

After those shells were fired, it rained twice in Henan.

The first round of rain lasted half an hour. The second round was longer, an hour. The number of counties with no harvest decreased from three to one. Food was scarce, but no one starved to death.

News came from Yuan Longping's side: the hybrid rice harvest this autumn yielded over 500 jin per mu.

The day He Yuzhu received the letter, he read it twice. The letter was still written by Yuan Lao, but it was longer than the last one, and the handwriting was messy in some places, showing that it was written in a hurry.

"Director He, the people say you are their savior. I don't know how to thank you, I can only say that if you ever need anything in the future, please don't hesitate to ask."

He Yuzhu sat there, staring at that sentence for a long time.

Then he picked up his pen and wrote a reply.

"Mr. Yuan, you're the one who invented hybrid rice. Just keep planting, the more the better. As long as the people have enough to eat, that's the most important thing."

He mailed the letter, stood at the post office door, and looked up at the sky.

The sky was still gray; it wasn't raining.

In the evening, He Yuzhu returned home.

A dim light shone in the room. Qin Huairu sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) sewing, her stitches flashing in the lamplight. He Nianhua was already asleep, clutching the spent cartridge tank in her arms. The blanket was kicked to one side, revealing her two small, bright red feet.

He Yuzhu walked over, bent down, and gently pulled the blanket up.

He Nianhua stirred, mumbled something, and then fell asleep again.

Qin Huairu stopped sewing and looked at him.

Why are you so late today?

He Yuzhu sat down next to her.

"busy."

Qin Huairu didn't speak. She lowered her head and continued sewing. The stitches came one by one.

After a long while, she spoke.

"Pillar."

"Um."

"I won't ask about your affairs," she said in a low voice, "but you have to promise me one thing."

He Yuzhu looked at her.

She looked up. The light shone on her face, making the few newly grown white hairs shine.

Don't overwork yourself.

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

He looked at Nianhua sleeping on the bed, and at the dim yellow lamp. The wick had been burning for a long time, and the flame flickered, casting a long shadow on the wall.

"it is good."

Old Sun arrived early the next morning.

He stood at the office door. The sun hadn't fully risen yet, and the light shone on his face, making the wrinkles appear even deeper.

"Old He, something's happened."

He Yuzhu put down the documents in his hand.

"What is it?"

Old Sun walked in and closed the door. The sound of the door closing was very soft, but it still made a sound in the quiet corridor.

"The Soviet Union has cut off its technical assistance to us."

He Yuzhu pressed his hand on the table.

"When?"

Old Sun said.

"In just the last few days, all the experts have left, and they took the blueprints with them. Several of our projects have been halted."

He didn't speak again. He Yuzhu didn't speak either.

The office fell silent. The second hand of the wall clock ticked. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the window.

It's all gray and hazy outside the window, looks like it's going to snow. The chimneys in the distance are still emitting smoke, which rises up and is then blown away by the wind.

Old Sun asked from behind.

"Can you handle it?"

He Yuzhu did not turn around.

He looked at the sky, at the smoke, and at the buildings in the distance.

"able."

Old Sun stood there for a while, then left.

He Yuzhu stood alone by the window.

The sun slowly rose and shone on him.