Courtyard House: I'm an engineer, and a fairy godmother transferred me to a different position.

Qin Huairu's scheming was not just profound, it was as if she had meticulously calculated the hearts of everyone in the entire courtyard.

You should know that this woman is the kind of person who can squeeze every last drop of profit out of Sha Zhu, and she hasn't let up for decades.

If you don't have some real skills

How could I possibly trick Sha Zhu into registering his house under my own name?

How could they possibly take over Yi Zhonghai's house and the deaf old lady's residence, one room after another?

To the end,

The entire courtyard has practically become a nursing home that she single-handedly manages.

Such skill, such scheming, such composure—all these qualities combined with an unwavering composure.

How could an ordinary man resist that?

The reputation of "the first white lotus in the courtyard" did not come out of thin air.

When Jia Dongxu was still alive, she hid behind her husband and let him handle things, which naturally made her appear docile and harmless.

Now that Jia Dongxu is gone...

She was the only one who could stand up and be the pillar of the family.

The courtyard houses of the future,

There's bound to be plenty of excitement to watch.

A widow who knows how to use her situation, is willing to put aside her pride, and acts like a weak woman—if she really sets her mind to something, who can easily resist her?

especially--

When the courtyard was still inhabited by a single man named Shazhu, who was skilled, earned a good income, and was excessively simple-minded...

This makes the show even more interesting.

Thinking of this,

Liu Guangqi couldn't help but smile, and picked up a piece of meat and put it into his bowl.

What does the entanglement in the courtyard have to do with him?

He doesn't live in this cesspool permanently; he can just observe occasionally. Why get involved?

Zhao Mengyun was unaware of the hint of amusement in her husband's eyes.

He continued, following Liu Haizhong's words:

"From this perspective, choosing a job is indeed a more worthwhile investment."

"Although there is a lot of money, the pension will eventually run out. But a secure job can last a lifetime, and it can be left to your children in the future."

Liu Guangqi pulled himself out of his thoughts.

He poured a glass of warm water and handed it to his wife, nodding as he said:

That makes sense.

He paused, then added softly:

"We walk our own paths and live our own lives. We won't interfere in the Jia family's affairs."

After dinner,

Liu Guangqi did not linger in the courtyard. Today was both the weekend and the National Day holiday.

He planned to take his wife and children out for a walk.

Enjoy this rare day.

The square was teeming with people, and red flags were flying everywhere.

The autumn sky was exceptionally clear and high, reflecting the bright red flags everywhere, which fluttered in the wind.

"Daddy... Pigeon...!"

Little Ruixue called out in her sweet, childish voice, stretching her little hands forward with effort.

Little Fengnian, held in Liu Guangqi's arms, imitated her older sister, kicking her little legs as if trying to break free from her father's embrace.

Liu Guangqi smiled and put the child down, afraid that the little guy would really flutter around chasing the pigeons.

As soon as the child was born,

He swayed unsteadily, trying to reach for his sister's hand, and looked up at the flock of white doves flying by.

It made cheerful, babbling noises.

Zhao Mengyun followed behind, carrying a canvas bag in her hand, looking at her husband and two children with tenderness in her eyes and brows.

I've been here before.

But now, with two little lives by my side, it feels like the whole world has gained warmth.

It's like suddenly pouring a whole patch of bright sunlight into an otherwise peaceful day.

Liu Guangqi glanced back at his wife.

She smiled slightly at her, then squatted down and took out a handkerchief to gently wipe the water stains from the corners of the two children's mouths.

"Come on, look at Mom, Dad will take a picture of you."

He raised the camera and adjusted the lens.

In the viewfinder, Zhao Mengyun stands smiling, gently holding Ruixue and Fengnian's hands.

Behind them was a vast blue sky and fluttering flags.

What a beautiful scene.

click-

The crisp sound of the shutter captured this moment.

Liu Guangqi put down his camera.

Just as he was about to go forward to hug his daughter, he vaguely sensed out of the corner of his eye that a gaze was fixed on him from the crowd.

He subconsciously looked up.

Seeing only a crowd of people, but not a familiar face, he didn't think much of it.

He didn't know,

At the other end of the crowd,

Fang Lili was taking a walk with her father, who was the deputy factory director, while her mother kept nagging her, complaining that she was too picky and that her marriage was still undecided.

"Look at other people, they're already married with kids, and you're still being picky! If you keep being so picky, you won't get a chance to be with any of the good ones!"

Frustrated, Fang Lili replied dismissively, "I know, I know."

When she looked up, she froze on the spot.

Red flags fluttered, and the cheers of the crowd rose and fell like waves. A warm joy floated in the festive air, and every upturned face was bathed in peaceful light. Liu Guangqi had just put down his black camera when his clothes were gently tugged.

"Daddy, hug me—"

The daughter, Ruixue, stretched out her little arms, refusing to stand still, determined to snuggle into her father's arms. Seeing this, Fengnian, standing nearby, also wobbled over, humming indistinctly, "Hug...hug!"

Liu Guangqi's lips curled into a smile, but his hands moved swiftly. He handed the camera to his wife beside him, lifted his daughter onto his shoulder, and then bent down to scoop up his son, who was clinging to his trouser leg, one on each side, steadily and smoothly.

"Look here," he said with a laugh, "let Mom take a picture of you."

Zhao Mengyun took the camera, her eyes crinkling with a gentle smile as she watched the three men bickering. The shutter clicked softly, and time seemed to stand still for that moment.

After playing for a while, Liu Guangqi led the children to rest on the stone steps by the roadside. Zhao Mengyun unscrewed the water bottle and held it to his lips.

"While I'm busy taking care of them, I also need to clear my throat."

The cool water felt refreshing as it went down his throat. Liu Guangqi passed the water bottle to the two children, watching them sip it slowly, while he rubbed his cheeks, which were a little sore from laughing for so long.

"This is the first time we've come out for a stroll during the National Day holiday," he said calmly but earnestly. "Let's take lots of pictures so that when they grow up, they'll have meaningful memories to look at."

As he spoke, his gaze swept across the solemn red flags in the square, then returned to his surroundings—his lively children and his wife standing quietly with a smile. A deep sense of peace welled up from the bottom of his heart.

If he had chosen to stay in that courtyard house back then, spending his days bickering with his neighbors over trivial matters, how could he have such a peaceful life now? The seven-axis five-linkage machine tool he is working on is a classified project registered with the ministry; and when he returns home, his wife is gentle and his children are around him, isn't this the ordinary life he once longed for?

As for people from the past and things from the past—such as Comrade Fang, whom I had met before—they have long since vanished like dust in the wind, leaving no trace in my heart.

At the edge of the crowd, a familiar figure seemed to flit by, like an old acquaintance. Liu Guangqi's gaze swept over it only for a fleeting moment before calmly withdrawing it. Just an irrelevant passerby; he now only wanted to hold onto the tangible warmth at hand. Those who had slipped through his fingers were no longer worth his lingering thoughts.

As the sun set, it cast a soft, gilded glow over the vast square. Finally, Liu Guangqi asked one of his bodyguards to pass him the camera. He and Zhao Mengyun, each holding a child's hand, stood beneath the high sky and the fluttering red flag, posing for a family portrait.

"Come on," he said, picking up his daughter and taking his son's hand. "I won't cook today. Dad will take you to a state-run restaurant for a good meal."

He had no intention of returning to the courtyard house. As the night breeze blew by, the family's figures gradually blended into the colorful lights.

It was a family of four, walking hand in hand toward the state-run restaurant.

The two children were still chattering about the lively scene they had witnessed during the day.

They didn't understand the profound weight behind the words "National Day," they only knew that everyone on the street had a smile on their face today, so they smiled along with them, their eyes crinkling with laughter.

The woman gently rested her head on her husband's shoulder, her voice as soft as the evening breeze:

"Today is wonderful... From now on, let's come here every National Day, okay?"

The man turned his head and saw the warm light reflected in his wife's eyes, so he held her hand even tighter.

"Okay." He smiled, his voice firm and bright, "I'll come every year."

The festive atmosphere hadn't completely dissipated when the entire city quickly switched to its new rhythm.

The factory chimneys spewed out thick smoke again, and the roar of machines replaced the laughter of the holidays. As if overnight, the lazy air had been driven away without a trace by the rising heat.

As the year draws to a close, all ministries and factories are on high alert, striving to deliver an impressive report card by the end of the year.

The work units in Beijing were like clocks wound up tightly, ticking away quickly and steadily.

As the main force in the foreign exchange earning front, Hongxing Factory shouldered the heaviest burden.

Together with its dozen or so subordinate machine tool factories, they worked day and night to rush production. The scene was not just enthusiastic, but downright magnificent.

This surging wave of foreign exchange has naturally benefited other sectors as well.

In the conference room of the Ministry of Metallurgy, the voices reporting were much louder than usual, and the papers slammed onto the table with a resounding clang.

"Comrades! This year's steel production—it's tripled compared to last year!"

In the corridor of the foreign trade department, everyone walked briskly, their stacks of foreign exchange orders seemingly carrying warmth. When they met acquaintances, they couldn't help but offer them a cigarette, their smiles impossible to hide.

Although it was a joke, it was also true: at this moment, the foreign trade department was receiving funds every minute and every second, and was extremely busy.

The city's industrial landscape has been given a much-needed boost thanks to the comprehensive upgrade of CNC machine tools.

The machine tools in the workshop are spinning rapidly, and sparks are flying everywhere; from the initial planning at the beginning of the year to the current sprint, every step is taken firmly and loudly.

The quality of the annual report card is already predictable.

In the arena of export earnings, machine tools still hold the top spot.

After more than half a year of continuous capacity ramp-up, machine tool manufacturers are finally seeing their production boom.

It is no exaggeration to say that the total output of the five-axis improved machine tool is now comparable to that of the Red Star Factory at its peak.

The Ministry of Machine Building, this dark horse, is very likely to take the lead this year—and may even leave the Ministry of Foreign Trade, which has been leading for many years, behind.

The reason is simple: almost all the CNC machine tools needed by the entire industrial system are produced by factories under the First Ministry of Machine Building.

Statistics from the beginning of the year showed that the factories directly under the First Ministry of Machine Building could produce about 1,600 CNC machine tools throughout the year.

If 30% of the improved five-axis machine tools are exported, the number would approach 500 units.

Not to mention the inflated unit prices driven up by some overseas buyers, making each order seem exceptionally lucrative.

The First Ministry of Machine Building, now in a period of rapid growth, has generated foreign exchange earnings figures this year that are enough to make anyone hold their breath.

In November, as usual, various ministries reported their monthly output value to higher authorities.

When the representative from the Ministry of Machine Building read out the previous month's foreign exchange earnings, the meeting room fell silent.

In the silence that lasted for more than ten seconds, only the soft rustling of paper and the sound of breathing could be heard.

Even the usually composed leaders of the college committee took off their glasses and were stunned for a moment.

Immediately afterwards, thunderous applause erupted; some people slammed their fists on the table, while others had tears welling up in their eyes—

Everyone still remembers those days of tightening their belts, those years when they were forced to save grain to pay off debts.

Now, I can finally stand tall and proud.

Before the cold winds had fully swept through the streets and alleys of Beijing, a notice, still smelling of ink, had already taken the lead, making the air of late autumn 1961 scorching hot.

Numbers don't lie. When the November revenue figures were finally presented, the meaning behind those silent characters rendered all the countless mental preparations palpable. The long silence in the meeting room wasn't one of bewilderment, but rather a confirmation bordering on awe—the mountain of debt that had hung over their heads for years, its final cornerstone crumbling, had transformed from a "possibility" into an "inevitable one." The elderly men who had walked side-by-side through the most difficult years exchanged glances, the long-standing heaviness fading, replaced by a long-lost glimmer of relief.

"It seems," one of them finally spoke, his voice steady, yet like a stone thrown into a deep pool, rippling with unmistakable waves, "that our backbone can now grow according to its own will."

These words, though spoken lightly, carried a weight heavier than a thousand pounds.