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

On the day the foreign exchange earned from penicillin exports arrived in his account, He Yuzhu was flipping through the Swiss machine tool catalog for the third time. The edges of the coated paper were curled up; he tried to flatten them with his hand, but couldn't. On the table lay the foreign exchange settlement slip delivered by Sun Xiuying. The amount wasn't large—three million two hundred thousand—but the word "US dollars" at the end made the paper seem much heavier. He picked up the slip and looked at it through the window. Sunlight shone through the back of the paper, revealing the dark lines of the watermark.

Now that we have foreign exchange, we can sell the equipment.

He picked up the phone and dialed the Ministry of Foreign Trade's number. It rang several times before being answered.

"Where is the head?" The voice was weary, as if he had just been pulled out of some troublesome matter.

"We can sign the contract for that batch of machine tools from Switzerland."

There was no immediate response. He Yuzhu heard the sound of turning pages, and someone whispering something nearby. A few seconds later, the voices rang out again.

Which batch?

"The catalog I showed you last time. Twelve machines in total, including CNC milling machines, machining centers, and precision grinding machines."

Silence. This time it wasn't just a second or two, it was five or six seconds.

"Director He, do you know how much this will cost?"

"Three million two hundred thousand. The profits from penicillin exports are just enough."

A soft, mocking laugh came from the other end of the line. It wasn't laughing at him, but at himself.

"Three million two hundred thousand... You're quite the calculator. Okay, I'll go ask. I'll let you know the results."

"how long?"

"I don't know. Let's wait and see."

The phone call ended. He Yuzhu held the receiver, listening to the busy tone. He put the receiver down, closed the catalog, and leaned back in his chair. Outside the window, the sun peeked through the clouds, shining on the courtyard wall, turning the gray paint a pale gold. He looked at it for a while, then drew the curtains.

For the next two weeks, He Yuzhu flipped through that catalog every day. Yang Xiaobing came in to deliver documents and saw that he had the catalog spread out on the table, his finger hovering over a certain page, not turning it for a long time.

"Commander, still no news?"

He Yuzhu shook his head.

Yang Xiaobing put down the document but didn't leave.

"Will those machine tools really arrive?"

"Yes." He Yuzhu closed the catalog. "It was only a matter of time."

Yang Xiaobing stood there for a while, then turned and left.

On the fifteenth day, the phone rang. He Yuzhu answered it, and a male voice came from the other end, much more cheerful than last time.

"Director He, it's approved. Twelve units, three million two hundred thousand. When would you like to sign the contract?"

He Yuzhu held the microphone. "Tomorrow. I'll come."

"Okay. I'll wait."

The day the ship arrived at port, the wind was strong at the dock. He Yuzhu stood on the shore, watching the containers being hoisted from the ship, one after another, onto the flatbed trucks with a loud thud, shaking the concrete ground beneath his feet. Yang Xiaobing held the inventory list, checking each item against the others. The wind made his voice broken and intermittent.

"Commander... all twelve... are here."

He Yuzhu walked to the first box and reached out to touch it. The metal box was cold, with the Swiss manufacturer's logo printed on it in white lettering on a blue background. He knocked on it, and it echoed hollowly. The worker pried open the box, revealing a silver-white machine tool that gleamed in the sunlight. He squatted down and touched the machine bed with the back of his hand; it was smooth and cold.

Ma Yuejin squeezed in from behind and squatted down as well. He reached out and touched it, then pulled his hand back, then stretched it out again.

"Dean, what's the precision of this thing?"

0.001 millimeters.

Ma Yuejin stopped his hand in mid-air, not letting it fall. "Our Swiss machine tool, 0.005. This one is even more precise than that."

"Send it back. Disassemble one unit first, train the staff. Once they've learned how to use it, distribute it to various factories."

Ma Yuejin responded and told people to start moving things.

The day the machine tools arrived at the research institute, the workshop was packed with people. He Yuzhu stood at the door, watching the boxes being hoisted in one by one, landing with a loud thud that shook the ground. When the boxes were pried open, the workshop fell silent for a moment. Not the kind of silence where no one spoke, but the kind where everyone held their breath. The silver-white machine tools were revealed, gleaming coldly under the lights, like something from another planet.

Someone took a step forward, then pulled back.

"Can't I touch it?" someone asked in a low voice.

"Feel it. Be gentle." Ma Yuejin squatted down and touched the bed frame with his fingertips, as if testing the temperature.

The person next to him imitated him, reaching out, touching it, and then pulling back.

"It's cold."

"Of course it's hot, it's made of iron, how could it not get cold?"

Someone laughed, a very soft laugh, as if afraid of waking the machine.

He Yuzhu walked into the workshop and stood in front of the machine tool. He touched the machine bed, turned around, and looked at the people there.

"Starting tomorrow, we'll hold training courses. Each factory will send two people. They'll learn how to operate the machines, how to program them, and how to maintain them. Only after they've learned these skills can the machines be taken away."

There was a moment of silence in the workshop. Then someone raised their hand.

"What if I can't learn it?"

"If you can't learn it, stay and continue learning in the next session."

The man lowered his hand and fell silent. Ma Yuejin chimed in from the side.

"Dean, I'll teach you."

He Yuzhu looked at him. "Are you sure you can do it?"

Ma Yuejin nodded. "Okay. I've figured out the Swiss one. This one has a similar structure but more advanced functions. Give me a few days, and I can learn how to use it."

"You learn first. I'll teach you after you've learned it."

Ma Yuejin turned and walked to the machine tool, squatted down, opened the control cabinet door, and looked at the densely packed circuit boards inside. He stared for a long time without saying a word.

The training course lasted two weeks. He Yuzhu didn't attend any classes, but Ma Yuejin came to report on the progress every day, his expression growing increasingly grim. On the first day, he said the machine tool was powered on, passed the self-test, and all axes were functioning. On the second day, he said the programming software was installed and could simulate machining. On the third day, he said he had test-cut a part, and the precision met the standards. On the fourth day, he said the people sent by various factories had arrived, a total of twenty-four, crammed into the workshop, some standing, some squatting, and some sitting on toolboxes. On the fifth day, he began lecturing.

On the sixth day, he almost got into an argument with one of the students.

As He Yuzhu passed by the workshop entrance, he heard someone banging on the table inside. He pushed the door open and went in. Ma Yuejin was standing in front of the blackboard, his face flushed red. A middle-aged worker sat in the first row, holding a pen in his hand, his notebook blank.

"You still don't understand after I've explained it five times?" Ma Yuejin's voice was harsh.

The middle-aged worker looked up. "You speak too fast, I can't remember it all."

"I speak slowly, and you don't take notes."

"I've got it!"

"Where did you write it? The notebook is empty!"

He Yuzhu walked over and stood between the two. Ma Yuejin was panting heavily, while the middle-aged worker had his head down, his fingers gripping a pen so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Which part didn't you understand?" He Yuzhu asked.

The middle-aged worker turned to a page and pointed to a line of text. "Coordinate system transformation. He explained it three times, but I still don't understand."

He Yuzhu took the notebook, glanced at it for a few seconds, and handed it back. "I'll explain the coordinate system to you separately later. Listen to the rest first."

The middle-aged worker nodded. Ma Yuejin stood to the side, silent. He Yuzhu turned around and looked at him.

"Continue."

Ma Yuejin took a deep breath, picked up the chalk, and drew a picture on the blackboard.

That evening, He Yuzhu called the middle-aged worker to his office. He sat at his desk, drawing the coordinate system transformation on paper and explaining it step by step. The worker leaned over the desk, staring intently at the paper, his eyes unblinking. After explaining it once, the worker nodded, then shook his head. He Yuzhu explained it again. After the third explanation, the worker stood up and saluted.

"I understand now."

He Yuzhu waved his hand. "Go back and get some sleep. You have class tomorrow."

The worker turned and left. He Yuzhu sat down at the table and took off the gloves, placing them on it. Outside the window, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, shining on the courtyard wall, casting patches of shadow on the ground from the big-character posters.

On the last day of the training course, the twenty-four trainees stood in two rows, some tall and some short, wearing work uniforms of different colors. Ma Yuejin stood at the front, holding a stack of graduation certificates, handing them out one by one. When he handed one to the middle-aged worker, he paused.

"Go back and practice hard."

The middle-aged worker took the certificate, glanced at it, closed it, and put it in his pocket. He walked up to He Yuzhu and saluted.

"Thank you, Mr. He."

He Yuzhu shook his head. "It wasn't me. Ma Yuejin taught him."

The middle-aged worker turned around and saluted Ma Yuejin again. Ma Yuejin paused for a moment, then saluted in return.

One by one, the trainees walked out of the workshop. Some rode bicycles, some walked, and some boarded the trucks that came to pick them up from the factory. A young worker walked to the door, then ran back and stood in front of He Yuzhu.

"Director He, what if I break that machine?"

He Yuzhu looked at him. "You can't break it."

"What if?"

"There's no 'what if'."

The young worker paused for a moment, then turned and ran.

The voice in my head rang.

[Hidden Mission: Fertilizer Promotion Completed]

[Mission Reward: 100,000,000 points]

He Yuzhu didn't look at the number. He stood at the workshop entrance, watching the backs of those people disappear into the alley. The yard was empty, except for that silver-white machine tool, which sat alone in the center of the workshop, its light still on, reflecting a cold glow on its casing. He turned around and went into the workshop. Ma Yuejin was squatting next to the machine tool, wiping the guide rails with a white cloth, slowly, stroke by stroke.

"Dean, we can use this bed for many years."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He stood in front of the machine tool, looking at the silvery-white metal surfaces, reflecting light so brightly it could illuminate one's image. The machine tool had arrived, the trainees had left. Two weeks of training was far from enough. Back in the factory, facing equipment worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, how many of them would dare to operate it? How many would be able to run the machine? How many would be able to make it truly function? He turned off the lights and walked out of the workshop. The corridor was dark, except for the green light on the emergency exit.

The problems have only just begun.