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

The day Minister Zhou arrived, He Yuzhu was staring blankly at the fertilizer production report on the table. The numbers were soaring, from three thousand to five thousand, from five thousand to eight thousand, with red arrows pointing north all the way to the edge of the paper, then folding down and continuing to the back. He turned it over, and the back was also filled with drawings.

Yang Xiaobing pushed open the door and came in, carrying an enamel mug, which he placed on the corner of the table. The mug hit the wood with a dull thud.

"Commander, Minister Zhou from the Ministry of Chemical Industry is here, downstairs."

He Yuzhu looked up. "Why is he here?"

"They didn't call ahead, and they were already at the door."

He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the window to look down. Minister Zhou stood at the entrance of the research institute, carrying a faux leather briefcase. The zipper was broken, and it was tied with rope, multiple times, as if to prevent the contents from falling out. He stood there without going in, looking left and right, as if waiting for someone to come and pick him up.

He Yuzhu went downstairs. One of the corridor lights was broken, and the green light from the emergency exit illuminated the water stains on the floor, making them a little slippery. He walked quickly, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Pushing open the door, Minister Zhou saw him, took two steps forward to greet him, and swung his briefcase in his hand.

"Director He, I hope I'm not bothering you since you didn't give me prior notice?"

He Yuzhu shook his head. "Minister Zhou, please come in."

He led Minister Zhou upstairs. The stairs were narrow, and the two of them couldn't walk side by side, so they had to walk one in front of the other. Minister Zhou walked slowly, taking one step at a time, and his breathing was a little heavy. He Yuzhu slowed down and waited for him.

Upon entering the office, He Yuzhu poured him a glass of water. Minister Zhou took the glass, but didn't drink it. He placed it on the table, staring at the water for a few seconds, as if considering how to begin.

"Director He, the higher-ups are very satisfied with the fertilizer situation." He finally spoke, but then paused. "That factory in Henan produces three thousand tons a month. Shandong, Hebei, and Anhui are all coming to buy it, they're lining up."

He Yuzhu waited for him to continue.

Minister Zhou sighed. It was a long, drawn-out sigh, as if squeezed from his throat, something he'd been holding in for a long time. "Director He, I'm not here today to deliver good news." He placed his briefcase on his lap, untied the drawstring, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to him. "An order from the Ministry of Foreign Trade. Japan, Hong Kong, and Southeast Asia all need our fertilizer. Two hundred thousand tons a year."

He Yuzhu took the paper and glanced at it. The number wasn't large—two hundred thousand tons—but this was the first batch. He placed the paper on the table. "That's good news."

Minister Zhou picked up his glass, took a sip, and put it down. "Production can keep up. The Henan factory can be expanded, and the new factories in Shandong and Hebei will be operational next year." He paused, running his fingers along the rim of the glass. "The problem is packaging."

He Yuzhu leaned back in his chair and looked at him.

Minister Zhou pushed his cup forward, as if pushing away something he didn't want to face. "For fertilizer exports, we can't use burlap sacks. Burlap sacks leak, and they clump together when they get damp. We need plastic bags, woven bags, with a layer of plastic film inside." He looked up at He Yuzhu. "We have a shortage of plastic domestically, and our production is low; it's not enough."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He stood up, walked to the wall, and looked at the map that had been hanging there for almost a year. Shandong, Hebei, Anhui—those major grain-producing provinces—all lacked fertilizer. Now that they had fertilizer, packaging was the problem. Plastic bags, woven bags, plastic films—they were all made from petroleum. We lacked oil, we lacked a petrochemical industry, we lacked plastics.

"Imported from abroad?" He turned around.

Minister Zhou gave a wry smile. "Imports cost foreign exchange. We earn foreign exchange by exporting fertilizers, and spend it on importing plastics. After that, there's not much left."

He Yuzhu walked back to the table, but didn't sit down. Instead, he stood up and tapped his fingers twice on the table.

"I'll figure out a way to deal with the plastic issue."

Minister Zhou looked up at him, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back. He stood up, tucked his briefcase under his arm, and the strap swayed twice on the bag. "Director He, I await your good news."

He Yuzhu saw him to the door. Minister Zhou left, his footsteps fading into the distance, turning a corner at the stairwell and disappearing.

He Yuzhu stood at the door, not going back. The green light in the corridor illuminated his face, and he stood there for a long time. Then he turned around, walked back to his office, picked up the phone, and dialed the number for the Chemical Research Institute.

The call was answered by a young woman's voice. "Director He? Director Chen is at a meeting at the ministry. What can I do for you?"

He Yuzhu held the phone. "When Director Chen returns, have him call me back."

He answered with a "yes" and hung up.

In the afternoon, Chen Dehou called. He Yuzhu answered; the voice on the other end was hoarse and had a heavy Northeastern accent.

"Director He, you were looking for me?"

He Yuzhu explained the packaging situation. There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone. He could hear Chen Dehou's heavy breathing, as if he was thinking about how to start the conversation.

"Director He, we've worked with plastics before. We can make polypropylene and polyethylene." Chen Dehou paused. "But the equipment is expensive, and the raw materials are expensive too. A complete set of equipment costs at least several million."

He Yuzhu held the microphone. "Let's start with a small one, just enough for packaging. I'll figure out the equipment."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone. Chen Dehou sighed. "Director He, it's not that I don't want to answer. Our institute's funds are all gone; we almost didn't pay salaries last month."

He Yuzhu was taken aback for a moment. "I'll handle the funding. You go ahead and work on the proposal."

Chen Dehou was silent for a moment. "Okay. Let's work out a plan first."

The phone call ended. He Yuzhu stood by the window, looking at the sky outside. It was gray and gloomy, looking like it was about to rain. The big-character posters on the courtyard wall had been replaced with new ones, the edges of the paper curling up and rustling in the wind. He drew the curtains and sat back down at the table. Chen Dehou's words kept replaying in his mind, "Last month's salaries almost weren't paid out." The Chemical Engineering Institute was so poor.

Two months later, Chen Dehou's proposal arrived. It was a thick stack, clipped together, the cover bearing the title "Feasibility Study Report for a 5,000-ton-per-year Polypropylene Plant," the handwriting neat and precise. He Yuzhu opened the first page and read a few lines. Investment estimate, equipment list, raw material sources, product plan. He read slowly, turning the pages one by one. He paused on the cost accounting page. The cost per ton of polypropylene was 20% higher than imported.