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

When he received the call, He Yuzhu was taking the library book out of the drawer. Old Sun's voice was very low, as if he was afraid something would hear him.

"Old He, someone from above has been sent to your place tomorrow. They'll be checking the records."

He Yuzhu placed the register on the table, his finger resting on the cover, and remained silent. Old Sun waited a moment, then said, "You decide for yourself," and hung up. He Yuzhu sat there, looking at the register, and opened it to the first page. Daqing Oilfield, Zhao Deming, November 1963. North China Pharmaceutical Factory, Sun Xiuying, December 1963. Those names, those dates, written in pen, each stroke clear and distinct.

He flipped through the register from beginning to end, and then from end to beginning. It was getting dark outside, but he didn't turn on the light and just sat there.

When Yang Xiaobing knocked and came in, the room was so dark that he couldn't see anyone's face. He stood at the door and didn't come in.

"Commander, I heard someone from above has arrived?"

He Yuzhu closed the register. "Tomorrow."

Yang Xiaobing took a step forward, then stopped. "Investigate what?"

He Yuzhu didn't answer. He put the register in the drawer, locked it, and stood up. "Go ahead and check. Everything's here, what's there to be afraid of?"

Yang Xiaobing stood there, his hands gripping the doorframe, his knuckles white. "Commander, those things, we risked our lives for them."

He Yuzhu walked to the door and patted him on the shoulder. "Go to sleep. You have things to do tomorrow."

The corridor lights were out, leaving it pitch black. The green light for the emergency exit was on, casting two shadows on the wall, one tall and one short, motionless. Yang Xiaobing turned and walked away first, his footsteps dragging in the corridor, each one like stepping on cotton.

The review team arrived the following morning.

He Yuzhu stood by the office window and saw three people walk in through the main door. The one in the lead was a thin man in his fifties, wearing a faded blue cotton-padded jacket with a frayed collar that revealed the dusty cotton underneath. Behind him followed two young people, a man and a woman. The man was carrying a notebook, and the woman was carrying a canvas bag. They walked quickly with their heads down.

When He Yuzhu came downstairs, they were already waiting at the entrance of the archives room. The tall, thin man was looking up at the big-character poster on the wall. After looking at it for a while, he turned around.

"Where is the commander? He was sent by my superiors. My surname is Zhou."

He handed over the letter of introduction. He Yuzhu took it and glanced at it; it was stamped with a large red official seal and bore the words "Investigation Team." He returned the letter and took out his keys from his pocket. Lin Jianguo and Lao Zheng also took out their keys. The three keys were inserted into the locks and turned simultaneously; the iron gate opened.

Team Leader Zhou stood at the door, not in a hurry to go in. He glanced inside; rows and rows of metal cabinets stretched from the doorway all the way to the back. He turned back and looked at He Yuzhu.

"Director He, what's inside these cabinets?"

He Yuzhu walked in and stopped in front of the first row of cabinets. "Technical data. Ten major areas, thirty-seven cabinets."

Team Leader Zhou followed him in and walked around the cabinets. He reached out, touched the cabinet door with his finger, looked at his finger, and then put it down. The young man followed behind him, jotting something down in a notebook.

"Director He, where did you get all this information from?"

He Yuzhu walked to the table, took out the borrowing regulations, and spread them out on the table. "It was developed by the research institute itself. Some of it came from overseas channels, and some was independently developed. Every piece of material that comes in and goes is recorded."

Team Leader Zhou walked over, sat down in a chair, picked up the borrowing regulations book, and flipped through it. He turned to the last page, which bore the research institute's official seal and He Yuzhu's signature. He looked at it for a few seconds, put it down, and then picked up the borrowing register.

He flipped through the pages one by one. The records were densely packed, with dates, organizations, names, content consulted, and page numbers copied down—everything was written clearly. He paused when he turned to last year's page.

"Zhao Deming from Daqing Oilfield, specializing in tertiary oil recovery technology. Is he still in Daqing?"

He Yuzhu stood by the table. "Here. Chief Engineer of Daqing Oilfield."

Team Leader Zhou nodded and continued flipping through the pages. "North China Pharmaceutical Factory, Sun Xiuying, penicillin fermentation process. Where is she?"

He Yuzhu said, "He's here too. Chief Engineer of the North China Pharmaceutical Factory."

Team Leader Zhou flipped through a few more pages, closed the register, and placed it on the table. He looked up at He Yuzhu.

"Director He, someone has reported you for hoarding technical data and creating an independent kingdom. How do you explain this?"

He Yuzhu pushed the borrowing rules forward. "The rules for the archives are all in there. Major factories and research institutes across the country can send people to look up and copy documents as long as they have approval from higher authorities. Ansteel has come, Daqing Oilfield has come, and North China Pharmaceutical Factory has come. Every group of people, when they came, when they left, what documents they looked up, and what they copied are all recorded."

Team Leader Zhou didn't reply. He stood up, walked to the row of metal cabinets, went from one end to the other, and then back again. The young man followed behind, his notebook filled with notes. Another young man was flipping through the registers at the table, turning them over one by one, then putting them back one by one.

Team Leader Zhou walked back to the table, stood there, and looked at He Yuzhu.

"Director He, I've checked these records, and there are indeed no problems. But there are considerations from above. The management of the archives needs to be changed."

He took a document out of the inside pocket of his cotton-padded coat and placed it on the table. "The order is for you to hand over a key to the archives. Someone from the higher-ups will take over."

He Yuzhu picked up the document and looked at it for a few seconds. He recognized the words and the stamp. He put the document down, took the key out of his pocket, and placed it on the table.

Team Leader Zhou paused for a moment. He looked at the key, then at He Yuzhu, reached out and picked it up, weighing it in his hand.

"Director He, don't you have anything to say?"

He Yuzhu looked at the borrowing rules on the table. "The rules are here. Everyone who comes must follow these rules."

Team Leader Zhou put the key into the inside pocket of his cotton-padded coat, patted it, and stood up. He walked to the door, then turned back, glanced at the metal cabinets, and then at the borrowing regulations posted on the wall.

"Director He, the door to the archives can be opened at any time. The rules will be set by the higher-ups."

He Yuzhu stood in front of the table. "The door to the archives room is always open. But the rules can't be broken."

Team Leader Zhou glanced at him, then turned and left. The footsteps in the corridor grew fainter and fainter, disappearing at the top of the stairs. He Yuzhu stood in the archives room, looking at the row of metal cabinets. Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the cabinet doors, making the dusty paint gleam dimly. He stood there for a long time before finally putting away the registers on the table, placing them in the drawer, and locking it.

Yang Xiaobing stood at the end of the corridor, his back to the door of the archives room. When He Yuzhu came out, he didn't turn around. His hands hung at his sides, clenched into fists, with several white marks on the back of his hands, made by his fingernails.

He Yuzhu walked over and stood next to him.

"Let's go."

Yang Xiaobing didn't move. After a long while, he slowly turned around. His hands were still clenched, his knuckles white.

"Commander, that key..."

He Yuzhu patted him on the shoulder. "Two more rounds. That's enough."

Yang Xiaobing lowered his head, looking at his hands. He loosened his fist, revealing several red fingernail marks on his palm that were slowly spreading. He shook his hands and followed behind.

The corridor lights were still broken, but the green light for the emergency exit was on, casting two shadows on the wall. He Yuzhu walked ahead, with Yang Xiaobing following behind, their footsteps echoing long in the empty corridor.

That evening, He Yuzhu sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), took the remaining two keys out of his pocket, and placed them on the table. He Nianhua was doing her homework beside her, the pencil stub scratching on the paper.

"Dad, today the teacher taught us how to write the character '正' (zhèng)."

He Yuzhu put the key away. "What did it say?"

He Nianhua put down her pencil and drew on the table with her finger. "One horizontal line, one vertical line, one horizontal line, one vertical line, one horizontal line. The teacher said that the character '正' (zhèng) means 'justice' and 'uprightness'."

Qin Huairu leaned over from in front of the stove. "You wrote it correctly."

He Nianhua was delighted, picked up a pencil again, wrote something in her notebook, and held it up for He Yuzhu to see. "Dad, look."

He Yuzhu took it and looked at it for a while. The character "正" (zhèng, meaning upright) was written crookedly, with uneven horizontal and vertical strokes, but every stroke was written with force, and the back of the paper was bulging. He returned the notebook to He Nianhua.

"Well written."

He Nianhua carefully put away the notebook, lay down on the table, and soon fell asleep. The pencil rolled to one side, and the notebook was under his elbow. He Yuzhu picked him up and put him on the kang (a heated brick bed). He turned over, put his little hand on He Yuzhu's face, and mumbled something.

"Dad, you're right..."

He Yuzhu stood by the kang (a heated brick bed), looking at that little face. Moonlight shone in through the window, making the room appear white. He gently placed He Nianhua's little hand back under the covers and tucked the blanket in.

Qin Huairu stood in the doorway, wearing an apron, her hands still covered in flour. "Asleep?"

He Yuzhu nodded. "Going to sleep."

She came over, tidied up the notebooks and pencils on the table, and put them in the drawer. She glanced back at him, said nothing, and turned to wash the dishes at the stove. The tap was turned on very low, the water flow was thin, and the bowls clinked against each other.

He Yuzhu sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), took out the two keys again, and placed them in his palm. The keys were cool, but as they touched his skin, they slowly warmed up. He held them for a while, then put them back in his pocket.

The moon is very bright outside the window.