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

Before dawn, He Yuzhu sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), wide awake.

We cannot rest.

With a thought, the light screen unfolded. [Startup Funds] Mission Progress: 1820/3000. Countdown: 23 hours and 47 minutes remaining.

1180 points short. One day.

The black market route is blocked. Iron Arm Chen's men are searching for him. How long can the alias "He Weiguo" last? He didn't go too far that night at the brick kiln, but they will never let it go.

Legitimate channels? How could someone acquire over a hundred Singapore dollars worth of valuables in a single day?

His gaze swept over the cotton in the corner of the room. It could be sold for money, but giving it away now would be too conspicuous. Giving it to the little leather shoes wouldn't work either.

Only one place remains: Fengzeyuan.

He had just been promoted to apprentice in the second kitchen and his foundation was still weak. Manager Zhou appreciated him, but he wouldn't give him money for nothing.

We have to do things that others are unwilling or unable to do.

He reluctantly used his left hand to tidy up, changed into his most worn-out clothes, and left early in the morning.

The kitchen at Fengzeyuan Restaurant was already preparing ingredients. Steam filled the air, and the noise was deafening. He Yuzhu didn't go to the stove—his right arm couldn't handle the wok. He went to Manager Zhou.

"Manager, something's up."

Manager Zhou looked up and saw that he looked pale and his right arm looked unnatural: "Zhu Zi? What happened to your arm?"

"I twisted it a bit," He Yuzhu mumbled, pointing to a square hole in the corner of the kitchen that was blackened and shiny. "The flue hasn't been cleared for a long time, has it? When the main stove is turned on in the morning, the smoke can't escape properly."

Manager Zhou frowned. That was the kitchen's biggest headache. The exhaust duct had many bends and accumulated ten years' worth of grease. It was usable most of the time, but when the stoves were on full blast, the fumes were so strong they made it impossible to open one's eyes. Nobody wanted to take on this job—it was dirty, tiring, and there was always the risk of getting stuck inside.

"It's an old problem," Manager Zhou sighed. "Do you have a solution?"

"I'd like to give it a try," He Yuzhu said. "My arm isn't feeling well today, so I can't do the delicate work on the stove. Give me half a day. If I don't succeed, I won't lose anything."

Manager Zhou sized him up for a moment, then nodded: "Okay. Tell Lao Li if you need anything. Be careful, don't push yourself too hard."

Tools were found: a long bamboo pole with an iron hook tied to it; an old iron bucket; hot water and alkali; and a thick, damp cloth.

He Yuzhu wrapped his head and face tightly with a damp cloth, leaving only his eyes exposed. His hands were wrapped in rags. He tried the bamboo pole; the resistance was great, like poking into greasy mud. When he pulled it out, the tip of the pole was covered with black, sticky grease, and it smelled pungent.

You can only go in.

He tied a thick hemp rope around his waist, which his apprentice pulled from the outside. He took a deep breath, stepped onto a stool, and crawled into the hole.

Darkness engulfed him. The stench of aged cigarette ash assaulted his nostrils, still choking him even through the damp cloth. The brick walls were coated with a thick layer of grease, slippery and cold. The space was cramped, so he curled up and shuffled inwards using his knees and elbows.

For each step forward, they would first use a bamboo pole to scrape and loosen the grease and grime, then scoop it into a small iron bucket. Turns were even more difficult, requiring the body to twist and the arms to be stretched out.

Sweat soaked through his clothes, mixing with putty and sticking to them. Breathing became increasingly difficult. The pain in his right arm intensified.

Time passed. The faint sounds of food preparation drifted in from outside—lunchtime was approaching. He Yuzhu mechanically repeated the same actions: scraping, scooping, scooping, backing up, passing the bucket. His consciousness was hazy, his ears ringing. Only the faint light of the countdown and progress bar sustained him in the darkness.

After an unknown amount of time, the bamboo pole suddenly felt lighter. He perked up and pushed forward with force—he heard a scraping sound from the bricks and stones, indicating that it was working.

He pried off the last piece of hardened grease. At the same time, the airflow in the passage became slightly smoother.

enough.

He dragged a bucket full of filth and crawled backward out of the hole.

When he emerged, completely blackened, Manager Zhou and the others waiting outside were startled. The apprentice helped him down and removed the wet cloth from his face and head. He Yuzhu's face was flushed, his hair was covered in black ash, and there were shallow marks around his eyes. He coughed incessantly, and his phlegm was black.

"Bring me water!"

He Yuzhu waved his hand, pointed to the chimney opening, and said in a hoarse voice, "It seems... to be clear. Let's test the stove fire."

Manager Zhou ordered the large stove to be lit. Flames rose, and the amount of smoke that used to pour back was significantly reduced. The smoke rose along the flue, making the air in the kitchen much fresher.

"It's working!" shouted the fire-starter.

Manager Zhou slapped his thigh: "Great! Zhu Zi, you've done a great job!" Looking at He Yuzhu's disheveled appearance, he was both moved and distressed: "Go wash up quickly! Old Li, here's ten yuan! Consider it a special reward! Also, pack a big portion of the leftover ingredients from today's tasting and give it to Zhu Zi to take home to replenish his energy!"

He Yuzhu was helped to wash. Warm water rinsed away the dirt, revealing his red skin and swollen right arm. But he breathed a sigh of relief.

After washing up and changing, Manager Zhou slipped me ten yuan. The kitchen helper handed over a heavy oil paper package: several jars of braised meat, fried meatballs, and two fried yellow croakers. These days, this was definitely a high-quality meal.

A light screen appeared:

[The system detected that the host received direct cash rewards and high-value in-kind compensation through extremely intensive labor.]

[Cash 10 yuan + food (estimated value 15 yuan) converted to points: 250 points.]

[Bonus points: 250 for making a significant positive contribution to the workplace.]

[New player quest "Startup Capital" progress update: 2320/3000.]

Five hundred points! Six hundred and eighty points short.

He carried the oil paper package and dragged his weary body back to the courtyard house. It was getting dark. The courtyard was dimly lit, and everyone was cooking; the air was filled with the aroma of cornbread, pickled vegetables, or vegetable porridge.

He glanced across the central courtyard. The doors and windows of Yi Zhonghai's house in the east wing were tightly shut. From the Jia family came the sounds of crying and shouting, and Jia Zhangshi's scolding. Next door in the west wing was Lin Zhaoxi's house—the man had injured his back at the freight yard and could only do odd jobs; the woman had three young children; they were the poorest family in the courtyard. They were usually silent and didn't get involved in gossip.

He Yuzhu paused for a moment, then walked to the Lin family's door and knocked.

The door opened a crack, revealing Lin Sao's weary face, prematurely wrinkled: "Zhu Zi? Is something wrong?"

He Yuzhu didn't say anything, but handed over the oil paper package.

Aunt Lin took it with a puzzled look, opened a corner—the aroma of meat wafted out. Her hand trembled, and she wanted to push it back: "This...it's too precious! We can't accept it..."

"Aunt Lin," He Yuzhu said, pressing her hand down, his voice low, "This is a reward from the manager for the dirty work we did at the shop today. My sister and I can't eat this much. It's hot, and it won't keep. You have a lot of family members, so please help us eat some. Don't refuse."

Without waiting for a refusal, she turned around, went back into the house, and closed the door.

The Lin family was silent for a few seconds, then the child's hushed voice of surprise and the sound of swallowing saliva could be heard. Mrs. Lin choked back tears and scolded softly, "Keep your voice down... Remember how good Brother Zhu was to you..."

He Yuzhu leaned against the door, listening to the sounds next door, and slowly exhaled. He didn't expect anything in return for doing this. But looking at the package of meat, thinking of the rain, and the Lin family's emaciated children, something stirred within him. In his past life, he was barely able to take care of himself; in this life… it wouldn't hurt to lend a helping hand if he could.

He walked to the water vat, scooped up some cool water and poured it down his throat to wash away the dryness and dust.

The light screen popped up again, its gold frame shimmering slightly:

[The system detected that the host actively donated scarce survival resources to extremely impoverished neighbors, indicating an altruistic element in the behavior.]

Good deeds increase the host's implicit reputation within the courtyard.

[Based on the value of the gift and the urgency of the recipient's need: 680 reward points.]

[New player quest "Startup Capital" progress reached: 3000/3000.]

[Mission Complete!]

[Final Settlement: The task required 3000 points, and 3000 points were actually earned. There is no difference, and no compensation will be provided.]

The reward "Reconnaissance Map (Beginner)" has been pre-paid and activated, and is permanently unlocked.

[First stage of the beginner quest chain completed. The second stage will unlock after certain conditions are met.]

finished.

He Yuzhu looked at the green "3000/3000" and the tension that had been building up inside him for three days suddenly eased. A wave of intense fatigue and pain in his right arm washed over him, and he could barely stand.

I moved to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), lay down fully clothed, and didn't even have the strength to move a finger.

The reconnaissance map is ready. I've collected 3,000 points through various means.

Three days felt like three years.

Night fell outside the window, and the courtyard grew quiet. In the distance, a radio from somewhere carried a faint news broadcast.