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

He Yuzhu had just finished dealing with the polyethylene issue and hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath when Sun Xiuying called.

That afternoon, he was squatting in the workshop watching the cutting and packaging of polyethylene film. Rolls of transparent film rolled off the equipment, and the workers cut them with a utility knife and stacked them up. Yang Xiaobing ran over and said that it was the phone number of the North China Pharmaceutical Factory, called by Sun Xiuying, and sounded quite urgent.

He Yuzhu clapped his hands, stood up, and walked into the office. The phone was on the table, the receiver still on, a buzzing sound coming from it. He picked it up.

"Director He?" Sun Xiuying's voice was lower than usual, as if she was holding something back. "The foreign buyers are pressing us again. Japan wants ten tons, Hong Kong wants five tons, and Europe has also inquired about prices."

She paused.

"But our packaging can't keep up. We don't have enough glass bottles, and we don't have enough rubber stoppers. The warehouse is full of medicine, but we just can't get it out. Director He, I..." She didn't finish her sentence, and a soft sigh came from the other end of the line.

He Yuzhu didn't reply. He leaned back in his chair, looking at the gray sky outside the window. The glass bottles were easy to handle; he had connections with the Ministry of Light Industry. The rubber stoppers… He remembered the two thousand tons of Vietnamese rubber in the warehouse, and he felt more confident.

"I'll contact the Ministry of Light Industry about the glass bottles." He paused for a moment. "I'll figure out a way to get the rubber stoppers."

Sun Xiuying was silent for two seconds on the other end, then her voice softened. "Okay. I'll wait for your message."

The phone call ended. He Yuzhu sat there, putting the receiver back on the forklift. Several documents were piled on the table, the top one being a rubber receiving slip from Tianjin Port. He picked it up, glanced at it, and put it down again. The rubber was piling up in the warehouse; it was time to use it.

The next morning, He Yuzhu got into a jeep. The car got stuck in traffic near Xidan, with bicycles weaving in and out of the cars, their bells jingling. He leaned against the window and flipped through the "Pharmaceutical Glass Bottle Production Line" document again, reading line by line about kiln temperature, molding pressure, and annealing curves. By the time they arrived at the Ministry of Light Industry, it was already 9:30.

The Ministry of Light Industry's office building was on Fuwai Street, a few drab buildings with two sentries standing at the entrance. He Yuzhu showed his identification; the sentry glanced at it, saluted, and let him in. The corridor was bustling with people, some carrying documents, others holding teacups, their steps hurried. He went up to the second floor, found the vice minister's office; the door was open, and someone inside was on the phone.

The deputy minister, surnamed Li, was in his early fifties, thin, wore black-rimmed glasses, and spoke slowly and deliberately. He saw He Yuzhu, said into the phone, "Let's talk later," hung up, and stood up.

"Where did you grow, and what wind blew you here?"

He Yuzhu placed the two documents on the table, one thick and in a glass bottle, the other thin and with a rubber stopper.

"Minister Li, the export of penicillin is stuck on packaging. We don't have enough glass bottles or rubber stoppers. The foreign buyers are pressing us hard; you have to help."

Minister Li picked up the book "Pharmaceutical Glass Bottle Production Line" and opened to the first page. The flowchart showed kilns, machine rows, annealing furnaces—a dense array of lines. He looked at it for a few seconds, then looked up and stared at He Yuzhu.

"Where did this thing come from?"

He Yuzhu didn't answer. He looked into Minister Li's eyes.

"Is it possible to do it?"

Minister Li lowered his head and continued flipping through the pages, his finger slowly tracing the flowcharts. He paused on the equipment list page. He looked up, then down again, picked up his teacup, took a sip, put it down, then picked it up again.

"We have the equipment. Several glass factories can make them. But medicine bottles have high requirements; they can't have air bubbles, cracks, or impurities."

He Yuzhu sat down in the chair. "The technical data is all there. The kiln temperature, forming pressure, and annealing curve are all clearly written down. Just follow the instructions."

Minister Li flipped through a few more pages, closed the document, and tapped the cover with his finger.

"Director He, I won't ask about your stuff." His voice lowered, as if afraid someone would overhear. "But you have to guarantee this thing will work."

"It can be done."

Minister Li stared at him for a few seconds, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. He spoke a few words into the receiver in a very low voice, which He Yuzhu couldn't hear. He put down the phone and turned away.

"Okay. I'll have the Beijing Glass Factory handle the glass bottles. The Tianjin Rubber Factory will handle the rubber stoppers. I'll keep your documents and organize experts to review them."

He Yuzhu stood up and extended his hand. Minister Li grasped it and shook it.

"Director He, your brain is something we light industry folks can't match."

He Yuzhu didn't reply, turned around and left. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty corridor.

The Beijing Glass Factory's workshop was located in the south of the city. When He Yuzhu arrived, the kiln had already been lit. The factory manager, surnamed Zhang, was in his fifties, plump, with a round face and a loud voice that could be heard throughout the entire workshop. He led He Yuzhu inside, pointing to the newly installed rotary table machine. The machine's casing still gleamed with fresh paint, and tools and parts were scattered on the ground.

"He Chuchang, this was made according to your drawings. We've done a trial production of a batch, and the bottles are okay, but the wall thickness is uneven."

He Yuzhu walked over, picked up a bottle, and looked at it against the light. The bottle's walls were thick in some places and thin in others, and the light shining through created varying shades, like a mottled old window. He put the bottle down, walked to the kiln, squatted down, and looked at the flames inside the furnace.

"The temperature was not well controlled. The temperature at the kiln outlet fluctuated greatly, and the weight of the material droplets was unstable."

Factory Director Zhang stood beside him, rubbing his hands together. "We've noticed it too. We've been adjusting it for two days, but it's still unstable."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He stared at the fire in the furnace for the time it takes to smoke a cigarette. The flames flickered erratically, sometimes yellow, sometimes blue.

"What about the thermocouple? Let's try a different one."

Factory Director Zhang paused for a moment, then turned and called for help. A technician ran over, holding a pair of pliers. They replaced the thermocouples and readjusted the parameters. The first batch came out, but it still didn't work. The thinnest parts of the bottle were as thin as paper, while the thickest parts were as thick as a wall. The technician deflated, throwing the pliers onto the table with a loud bang.

"Director He, how about we just use imported ones? We can't afford to delay this order."

He Yuzhu remained silent. He walked to the front of the kiln, squatted down, and looked at the mold's parting line. The workers stood beside him, none of them speaking, only the hum of the kiln's blower. He watched for a long time, then stood up.

"The mold parting line is off. It's loose on the left and tight on the right. When the molten metal comes in, it runs to one side."

Factory Director Zhang came over and squatted down to take a look. He reached out and touched the gaps in the mold, and his expression changed.

"That's true."

The workers readjusted the molds, taking almost an hour. As darkness fell, all the lights in the workshop were turned on, the incandescent bulbs reflecting a blinding light onto the equipment. Waves of heat surged from the kiln opening, making faces burn, and beads of sweat covered the workers' foreheads, streaming down their cheeks.

By the time the third batch of bottles came out, it was completely dark. He Yuzhu picked one up and examined it against the light. The walls were of uniform thickness, with no bubbles or cracks. He weighed it in his hand, then picked it up again and examined it against the light once more.

Factory Director Zhang took the bottle, flicked it with his finger, and it made a crisp sound. He smiled, revealing a missing front tooth.

"Alright."

News also came from the Tianjin Rubber Factory. He Yuzhu didn't go; Yang Xiaobing did. When he returned, he was carrying a small, grayish-white rubber stopper, shaped like a mushroom. He placed it on He Yuzhu's desk.

"Commander, trial production has started in Tianjin. Here are some samples."

He Yuzhu picked up the rubber stopper, pinched it with his fingernail—no mark. He smelled it—no odor. He squeezed it—it was just the right firmness and elasticity.

"Where's the test report?"

Yang Xiaobing took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. "Physicochemical indicators are qualified, biological performance is qualified, sterile, and pyrogen-free."

He Yuzhu glanced at the paper and put it down. Outside the window, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds and shone on the courtyard wall.

"Let Sun Xiuying give it a try."

Sun Xiuying called the same day she received the rubber stopper. He Yuzhu answered, but the voice on the other end wasn't as crisp as usual; it sounded like something was stuck in her throat.

"I've tried it. It fits perfectly, seals well, doesn't leak, and doesn't fall off. It didn't deform after sterilization either." She paused. "It's even better than the imported ones."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He heard someone call "Chief Engineer Sun" from the other end of the line; the voice was distant, muffled by the door.

"Where's the glass bottle?"

"We've also tested the glass bottles. The walls are uniformly thick, with no bubbles or cracks. Filling, sealing, and sterilization all went smoothly." She paused, lowering her voice even further. "Director He, with these packages, our penicillin can be sold in Africa. There's a shortage of medicine there, and the demand is huge."

He Yuzhu held the microphone. "What's the price?"

"The export price is five times that of the domestic price. A shot of penicillin costs two cents in China, but can sell for one dollar in Africa. We export tens of tons a year, which earns us a lot of foreign exchange."

He Yuzhu pressed his hand on the table. Five times. He stood up, walked to the window, and pulled the curtains open a crack. The sky outside had cleared, the moon was bright, shining on the courtyard wall, casting patches of shadows on the ground from the big-character posters.

"Hurry up production. Once the packaging is ready, the medicine can get out."

Sun Xiuying said, "Okay."

The phone call ended. He Yuzhu stood by the window, took the list out of the drawer, and turned to the page on medicine. After the words "penicillin," he added a line: Glass bottles are in production, rubber stoppers are in production, and the export price is five times that of the domestic price.

After finishing writing, put the list back and lock the drawer.

He Yuzhu looked through the orders for the imported equipment again and again. The fermenters were made in Germany, the centrifuges in Sweden, each costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. He put the orders in a drawer and locked it.

When will we be able to make them ourselves?

he does not know.

But we still need to keep earning that money.