Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

On the kitchen stove in the factory canteen, seven or eight kinds of common ingredients were already drying.

Jessica scooped up a spoonful of hot sauce and put it in her mouth. Her tongue tingled, and she blurted out, "This flavor is amazing!"

After chatting for another half hour, the third contract was signed smoothly.

After leaving the factory, Lin Quan went straight back to the courtyard house.

As soon as dinner was finished, Yi Zhonghai called everyone in the yard to start a meeting.

"Hey sir, what's up?" He Yuzhu asked with a smile, a toothpick dangling from his mouth.

After his bangs were pulled down, Yi Zhonghai, the "old man," firmly returned to his seat.

Xu Damao had just been promoted to head of the machinery factory's inspection team and was putting in his best effort to catch up with Haitang.

"It's almost the 30th of the twelfth lunar month. Let's discuss how to celebrate the New Year," Yi Zhonghai said with a smile, spreading his hands.

"Are we all looking out for ourselves this year, or are we all having fun together?" He Yushui asked, tilting her head.

"How about we have a New Year's Eve dinner together, it'll be lively and festive?" Yi Zhonghai suggested.

"Okay, I'll do as you say." He Yuzhu nodded in agreement.

Lin Quan was unwilling to provide pots, pans, tables, chairs, and benches, but readily pulled out two pieces of cured meat and ten sausages.

Qin Huairu had more than two thousand yuan in savings, and directly took out three catties of fresh pork and ten catties of refined flour.

Madam Jia glanced at her daughter-in-law, her lips moved, but she didn't say anything.

Neighbors would contribute, one person giving a pound of radish, another a handful of vermicelli, each chipping in their own way, and the atmosphere instantly warmed up.

"Yuzhu, don't worry about the gifts, the stove is yours." Lin Quan smiled and patted He Yuzhu on the shoulder.

On the thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month, just after eight o'clock in the morning, He Yuzhu put on his apron, rolled up his sleeves, and the clatter of pots and pans began.

Yi Zhonghai brought ten pounds of pork belly with a good balance of fat and lean meat. Half of it was steamed into a glossy and fragrant braised pork belly, while the other half was coated with rice flour and mixed with sauce. They were then placed in a steamer. Before the aroma of the steamed pork belly had even spread, the whole courtyard was already warm and cozy.

Qin Huairu rolled out the dough, Qin Jingru prepared the filling, an older woman skillfully used a rolling pin, and Jia Zhangshi chanted auspicious words as she wrapped the dumplings. The dumplings were neatly arranged on the cutting board, like a fleet of small white boats ready to set sail.

"Ah Quan, I heard you've finalized three big deals with the factory?" Yi Zhonghai put down his blue and white porcelain teacup and slightly raised his eyelids.

"The factory was in a rush to get CNC machine tools, right? I helped them negotiate three machines, and while I was at it, I also pushed the pig-snout mushrooms and the secret seasoning to the foreign businessmen..." Lin Quan pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shook one out, and said, "Sir, want one?"

"I won't touch that stuff." Yi Zhonghai waved his hand, tapping his knuckles lightly on the table twice.

Living in this courtyard house, neighbors can chat for ages while sitting by the wall with their bowls in hand. They can savor even the smallest details, like whose cabbage is too salty or whose child's cough hasn't gotten better. Life moves at a leisurely pace, and the warmth of the atmosphere never fades.

The two most eye-catching women in the courtyard, one gentle as spring water and the other radiant as the morning sun, are now both by his side. Lin Quan feels at ease, saying little, but his eyes and brows are full of smiles.

"Ah Quan, many families in the courtyard are struggling to make ends meet. You have knowledge and connections, and you can help the factory earn hard currency. Could you also help the neighbors?" Yi Zhonghai's voice was not loud, but it was heavy.

Lin Quan didn't reply immediately. He knew in his heart that there wasn't anyone in this courtyard who was truly evil to the core. Behind every bad deed, there was often a string of unspeakable hardships.

Was Xu Damao secretly sabotaging Liu Haizhong? It was Liu Haizhong who insisted on placing Yu Haitang with his second son, Liu Guangtian; Xu Damao had just divorced Lou Xiao'e and was eyeing Yu Haitang closely. Liu Haizhong, as the head of the investigation team, held power and always spoke of "organizational arrangements." The two secretly wrestled several times, but Yu Haitang refused to agree to either.

Xu Damao is selfish, but he has never crossed the line in terms of personal morality—he doesn't steal or rob, and he doesn't harm anyone. Even though he has been arguing with He Yuzhu for many years, he has only made a few sarcastic remarks at most, and he has never thought of pushing someone to their death.

Looking at He Yuzhu, he is intolerant of any wrongdoing, takes things seriously, lives an open and honest life, and is truly a kind and honest person.

But when has a good person ever not given up a little benefit or taken a step back?

An elderly couple planning for their retirement, showing concern for each other and bringing food and water, are essentially paving a softer path for their future. Yan Bugui's family is extremely frugal, even scrimping and saving on soy sauce. Isn't that because they're forced to be? The whole family of seven or eight people depends on his meager salary. If he relaxes his efforts even slightly, their livelihood will be in jeopardy.

Lin Quanxin once said: People are shaped by their environment, not born with a mold.

Between neighbors, it's common for you to bring a bowl of stewed meat today and for me to bring a pot of wine tomorrow. If you get along well, no one will argue about a little loss or gain; even if you do have some disagreements, you hide them behind a smile, just to save face for each other.

If they really don't get along, they won't even bother to meet, let alone try to take advantage of each other or suffer in silence.

Lin Quan pondered for a moment and then nodded.

More help means less trouble; a single word might be insignificant to him, but it's a real lifeline for others.

"Uncle, I'll mention your factory's new condiment plant to Director Li later—any young people or elderly people in the compound who are unemployed can basically get a job there, as long as they're willing to work."

"That's great!" Yi Zhonghai's eyebrows relaxed, and his mouth stretched to his ears.

After Jia Zhangshi and the other woman entered the factory, Lin Quan felt much lighter on his shoulders.

Jobs are highly sought after in the city; countless people are scrambling to get a position. A woman in her fifties, quick-witted and ambitious, who would want to stay home counting plaster on walls?

After the New Year, Lin Quan rested at home for a day and then accompanied Qin Jingru back to Qin Family Village.

On the sixth day of the first lunar month, the Third Machinery Factory roared to life as it officially resumed operations.

Lin Quan pushed open the slightly peeling wooden door to the factory director's office. Director Li was bent over writing a report. When he looked up and saw it was him, he immediately stood up: "Ah Quan, you're here? Please sit down!"

He had just acquired three second-generation CNC machine tools for $180,000 each, and then made a fortune by exporting pig burrowing mushrooms and secret seasonings. The factory leaders praised him, and then immediately called him to three on-site meetings.

"Director Li, in our courtyard house, quite a few people are just sitting around idly in their rooms..." Lin Quan got straight to the point.

"How many people?" Director Li straightened up, twirling the pen cap in his palm.

"Sixty-five of them, all waiting to go to the spice factory."

"Fine!" Director Li said decisively, slamming his hand on the table. "I'll take them all."

"How's the equipment setup for the seasoning production line at the factory coming along?" Lin Quan asked casually.

Director Li was taken aback; the nib of his pen paused on the paper, spreading a small blot of ink: "Seasonings... can be made by machine?"

"Relying entirely on manual labor, production can't be increased, and profits are pitifully thin. If we install a few sets of automated equipment, the seasonings can be produced on an assembly line, generating tens of millions of US dollars in revenue annually, a steady and reliable income," Lin Quan said with a smile.

"Do you know what kind of machines a condiment factory needs?" Director Li asked, looking up at him.