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

When Sun Xiuying arrived, the snow in Beijing was melting.

The stone steps at the entrance of the research institute were wet and slippery. She stood there, wearing a faded blue cotton jacket with dark stains on the cuffs, like marks left by some kind of dried culture medium. Her short hair, reaching her ears, was tied back with a black rubber band, and a few stray strands of hair blew in the wind. Behind her were three people, two men and a woman, all carrying canvas bags, their faces red from the cold, stamping their feet.

When He Yuzhu came out, she was looking down at the letter of introduction in her hand, the paper rustling in the wind. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and handed him the letter. He Yuzhu took it and glanced at it; it was stamped with the Ministry of Health's large red seal, and there was a line of handwritten words: "Improvement of penicillin fermentation process, urgent."

He put the letter away carefully.

"Come with me."

Sun Xiuying didn't speak, but followed him inside. Her steps were quick and steady; the three people behind her had to jog to keep up. He Yuzhu walked ahead and heard her ask a question from behind.

"Director He, do you have fermentation tanks here?"

He Yuzhu did not turn around.

"no."

She said "oh" and didn't ask any more questions.

The archives were on the second basement level. Inside, there was a musty, but not unpleasant, smell of metal cabinets and paper mixed together. The lights were fluorescent, flickering and humming when first turned on, making the metal cabinets gleam coldly. He Yuzhu stopped in front of the innermost row of cabinets and took out his key. Lin Jianguo and Old Zheng, the head of security, also took out their keys. They inserted all three keys into the locks and turned them simultaneously. With a click, the metal door opened.

Sun Xiuying stood at the door but didn't go in.

She looked at the cabinets, at the labels on the cabinet doors, for several seconds.

"Director He, our fermentation tanks keep having problems. We've tried several methods, but none of them work."

She paused.

"Another can wasted last month."

He Yuzhu opened the cabinet labeled "Medicine - Penicillin" and took out a document. The cover was snow-white, the ink fresh, and the first page was filled with dense formulas and parameters, line after line.

Sun Xiuying took it but didn't rush to flip through it. She looked at the table of contents first, and after a minute, she turned to the main text. She read three lines on the first page, then paused. After reading a few more lines, her finger hovered over a certain parameter, her lips moved, but she didn't make a sound.

He Yuzhu stood to the side, waiting.

She turned another page. She read this page even more slowly, and when she got to the middle, she looked up.

"Where is the process for this? Have you tried it before?"

He Yuzhu shook his head.

"No. It's on paper."

She paused for a moment, then lowered her head and continued reading. When she turned to the third page, her fingers stopped trembling, but she gripped the edge of the paper so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Suddenly, she closed the document and placed it on the table.

"Are there any risks?"

He Yuzhu looked at her.

"have."

She didn't speak. The room was silent for a few seconds, the fluorescent lights still humming.

"If it fails, all my jars will be wasted."

He Yuzhu didn't reply. She stood there, looking at the document, at the words on the cover, for a long time. Then she picked up the document again, hugged it to her chest, turned around, and called out to the three people behind her.

"Old Liu, Little Wang, Little Zhao, copy."

The voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear.

They spent four days in the archives.

He Yuzhu went to check on it every day. On the first day, Sun Xiuying hunched over the document, reading it word by word. When she came across a certain parameter, she stopped, calculated it on the paper for a while, then flipped back to check the previous formulas and calculated it a second time. Old Liu waited beside her, his pen never putting down.

The next day, she asked Xiao Wang to help her copy the data while she squatted on the ground drawing diagrams. The diagrams were spread all over the floor, with the corners pressed down with pencil stubs. She would draw a stroke, pause to glance at the data, and then draw another. Halfway through, she put down the pencil, stood up, and stared at the diagram for a long time.

On the third day, Xiao Zhao went to the cafeteria to get food, but she didn't eat. When He Yuzhu went, the lunchbox was on the corner of the table, the lid still closed. She sat in a chair, spread the documents on her lap, and read through them line by line, her finger slowly tracing the lines on the paper.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, they finished copying. Old Liu stacked the papers neatly, wrapped them in brown paper, and stuffed them into his canvas bag. Sun Xiuying stood up and walked over to He Yuzhu.

"Director, I have a request."

He Yuzhu looked at her.

"explain."

She thought for a moment, then spoke very slowly.

"Could you send someone back with us? This process is too intricate; we're afraid something might go wrong if we only look at the documents."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He turned his head and looked at Lin Jianguo standing at the door.

"you go."

Lin Jianguo was stunned for a moment.

"Dean, I'm a computer scientist."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

"Who designed the computer's temperature sensor?"

Lin Jianguo opened his mouth, but no words came out. He Yuzhu continued.

"Go take a look; it might be more useful than working with computers."

Lin Jianguo stood there, looked at him for several seconds, and then nodded.

"OK."

Sun Xiuying walked over, reached out her hand, grasped Lin Jianguo's hand briefly, and then let go.

"Comrade Lin, thank you."

Lin Jianguo's hand was a little red from her grip, and he grinned.

"You're welcome."

The day Lin Jianguo left, He Yuzhu stood at the entrance of the research institute, watching the jeep drive away. Ma Yuejin came out of the workshop and stood beside him.

"Dean, is that kid any good? He doesn't even know what a fermentation tank looks like."

He Yuzhu did not answer.

He recalled when Lin Jianguo first arrived, he had never even touched a computer before. He stared blankly at that old machine, standing there for a long time, unsure which button to press. Now, that machine had been replaced by Galaxy III.

Six months later, the phone rang.

He Yuzhu answered the phone, and Sun Xiuying's voice came from the other end, slower than usual.

"Where the crops grow, the yield increases."

He Yuzhu held the microphone.

"How many?"

She paused. The pause was so long that He Yuzhu thought the call had been disconnected.

"ten times."

After saying those two words, she fell silent. He Yuzhu heard someone shouting on the other end, but couldn't make out what they were saying, along with the low hum of machinery. After a while, she spoke again.

"Director He, our penicillin can now be exported."

The voice was different from usual.

The phone call ended. He Yuzhu stood there, listening to the busy tone on the receiver. The trees outside the window had turned green, and sunlight streamed in, making the stack of letters on the table appear white. He took out the letter Lin Jianguo had sent back from the drawer, unfolded it, and read it for the third time.

The letter was very short.

"Dean, on the day the first batch was discharged, Engineer Sun stared at the pressure gauge for forty minutes. The needle didn't move at all. She said 'It's done,' but her voice sounded different than usual."

He Yuzhu folded the letter and put it back.

When Lao Sun arrived, He Yuzhu was staring blankly at the remittance slip. He placed the slip on the table, which read, "Penicillin export, first batch, twelve million US dollars."

"Old He, the higher-ups are overjoyed again. They say the North China Pharmaceutical Factory will be able to generate a lot of foreign exchange this year."

He Yuzhu raised his head.

"Twelve million?"

Old Sun nodded. He took out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, took a drag, and slowly exhaled.

"Enough to buy a lot of grain."

He looked at He Yuzhu.

"Your skills are truly amazing."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything and put the remittance slip into the drawer.

Old Sun didn't leave; he stood by the window and finished his cigarette. The ash fell to the ground, but he didn't flick it off.

"There's one more thing."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

"We've received news from Vietnam."

He stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill.

"We don't have enough air defense radar. We don't have the new models."

He looked at He Yuzhu.

Do you have any left over?

He Yuzhu didn't answer. He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the sky outside. It was getting dark, the streetlights weren't on yet, and everything was hazy and indistinct. He stood there for a while, then turned around and walked towards the archives room.

Old Sun called out from behind.

"Old He."

He Yuzhu did not turn around.

Three keys, three people, all arriving at the same time. The iron gate opened. The fluorescent lights flickered a few times and then came on. He walked to the cabinet labeled "Military Industry · Radar" and stopped.