Courtyard House: Starting as an eighth-grade worker, with too many wives.

Sha Zhu darted out from behind the corner of the wall, blocking the road like a stray dog ​​that hadn't eaten for days.

Li Jianguo slammed on the brakes, causing the front wheel to veer off course and the handlebars to sway violently. He managed to steady himself by bracing himself with one leg. The wheel left a black mark on the ground, and the smell of burning rubber filled the air.

"Li Jianguo!"

Sha Zhu's chest heaved violently, his breathing labored like a bellows, a whistling sound coming from his throat. His eyes were wide open, bloodshot and bulging, as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. His voice was forced out from deep in his throat, hoarse, shrill, and cracking: "Did you kick me out of the kitchen on purpose?"

People coming to work around me slowed down their pace.

One.

two.

Gather more and more.

Some people stopped and looked back. Others crowded around, craning their necks to peer inside. Soon they formed a circle, loose and scattered, but it was definitely a circle, as if someone had drawn an invisible line in the middle.

Li Jianguo braced one leg on the ground and glanced at him sideways.

The gaze swept down from top to bottom as if looking at a stray dog ​​on the roadside, as if looking at a pile of rotten vegetable leaves that no one wanted, as if looking at something dirty. Even glancing at it for too long would be an eyesore.

"deliberately?"

He twitched his lips, his smile cold and indifferent, as if he were listening to a joke or looking at some idiot, so stupid that he couldn't even be bothered to curse him.

"You think you're worthy of my permission to do it on purpose?"

Sha Zhu was taken aback.

That moment of stunned silence was quickly overshadowed by a greater rage. He took a step forward, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his knuckles turned white, and his nails dug into his flesh, leaving crescent-shaped marks.

"I've offended you, and you're just trying to get back at me!"

Li Jianguo didn't move.

He simply stared at Sha Zhu, his gaze excessively calm. That calmness was more unsettling than anger, like punching cotton, like pouring water onto sand—it vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving not even a trace.

Use your brain.

He spoke slowly, each word clear and distinct, like hammering nails into the ground, each strike leaving a deep dent.

"Just because someone calls you stupid, you actually think you're stupid?"

Sha Zhu opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say. His lips moved, like a fish out of water.

"Do I need to go to such lengths to deal with you?"

Upon hearing this, Sha Zhu's expression changed.

From red to white.

From white to blue.

It was as if someone had drained his blood and then poured a tube of ice water into him.

But he still gritted his teeth and refused to back down, his neck stiff and unyielding like a stubborn mule, the veins on his neck bulging: "Impossible! This is revenge!"

People around started whispering and buzzing, like a swarm of greenbottle flies around a piece of rotten meat.

Li Jianguo was too lazy to look at him anymore.

He glanced around the crowd and spotted Xu Damao's face—squeezed at the very front, his eyes shining like a rat that had stolen oil, his lips curled up, his face full of schadenfreude, his expression even happier than during the New Year.

He raised his chin.

"Xu Damao".

When Xu Damao heard the roll call, he shrank back, then quickly leaned out again, his face beaming with smiles, bowing and scraping: "Yes, Director Li, what are your instructions?"

"Go and call Director Yang here."

"Okay!"

Xu Damao turned and ran, his feet seemingly greased, disappearing in a flash. After running a dozen steps, his smile stretched almost to his ears, revealing two rows of yellow teeth.

He felt incredibly happy.

Every time Sha Zhu clashed with Li Jianguo, Sha Zhu always came out on the losing end. He loved watching that. Every time he saw Sha Zhu's face fall, he could eat two more bowls of rice. Tonight, he'd have his wife cook something nice to celebrate, preferably with some meat.

Hurried footsteps came from outside the crowd. Thump, thump, thump—it was the sound of running; you could tell from the sound that they were running fast.

Factory Director Yang practically rushed over, a fine layer of sweat glistening on his forehead in the sunlight, streaming down his cheeks. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently, his breath uneven, and a whistling sound coming from his throat.

He was looking at documents in his office when he heard Xu Damao say that Li Jianguo and Shazhu were arguing at the gate. He threw down his pen, stood up and ran, running until he was out of breath and his legs were weak.

Along the way, he cursed Sha Zhu hundreds of times in his mind. He cursed him for being stupid, for being clueless, for not learning from his mistakes, for being like a donkey, remembering the food but not the beating.

What is Li Jianguo's current status? He's a key project being closely watched by higher-ups, with countless tasks waiting for him every day. Why doesn't this bastard learn his lesson? Wasn't yesterday's lesson enough?

When the crowd saw Director Yang approaching, they automatically parted to make way. The parting was so quick and even that it looked as if someone had cleaved the crowd in two with a knife, and people on both sides retreated in unison.

When Sha Zhu saw him, his eyes instantly reddened. The redness came quickly and intensely; tears welled up in his eyes, swirling but not falling. He took two steps forward, his voice trembling with sobs, as aggrieved as a bullied child: "Director Yang, you have to stand up for me!"

He pointed at Li Jianguo, his finger trembling violently, like a withered leaf in the wind, about to fall at any moment.

"He's just a supervisor, what right does he have to transfer my job? What right does he have to stop me from working in the cafeteria? I'm a cook with a big ladle, I'm trained to cook, not to move stones!"

As he spoke, he became increasingly aggrieved, his voice cracking and trembling with tears: "How am I supposed to move stones? My hands are for tossing woks, not for moving stones!"

He stretched out his hands, and those hands were indeed different from others, with thick knuckles and large palms, the result of years of practicing tossing food in a wok.

Factory Director Yang stopped and scanned the area.

Not angry.

"Have you had enough of arguing?"

Three words, not heavy, but like a bucket of cold water poured over his head. Sha Zhu's last words got stuck in his throat, making his eyes roll back and gurgle.

He opened his mouth, his voice trailing off, but he was still muttering incoherently, like he had a piece of hot tofu in his mouth: "Factory manager, I want to go back to the canteen..."

Suddenly, someone in the crowd coughed.

"Factory manager."

A sound came from behind, not loud, but very clear, like a pebble thrown into water, spreading outwards in ripples.

"In our cafeteria, should the best cook be chosen for the job?"

These words exploded like firecrackers.

"Yes, yes, yesterday's new Chef Nan stir-fried vegetables, it looked like he didn't put anything in them, but the taste..."

Someone smacked their lips, narrowed their eyes as if still savoring the memory, and swallowed hard.

"I took a bite and was stunned for a long time, wondering how this food could taste so good. I've been eating in the cafeteria for so many years, and this is the first time I've tasted something different. This is the first time I've licked the plate clean."

"Stop talking! Did you guys have that dumpling soup? The simplest kind, tomato and egg dumpling soup. When I got home and ate my wife's cooking, I almost couldn't swallow it. It just didn't taste right, it was so different. It tasted like wood chips."

"Factory manager, you can't replace Master Nan! We finally got a skilled worker!"

"Yes, it can't be changed!"

Sha Zhu's face turned completely pale.

It was as white as paper, as white as wall plaster, as white as a dead person's face, as white as if it had just crawled out of a coffin.

He listened to those words, each one like a knife stabbing into him. They stabbed him painfully, made it hard to breathe, and left his chest feeling heavy.

"impossible……"

He muttered to himself, his voice growing louder, as if trying to convince himself, or perhaps refuting those people: "Impossible! How could he possibly cook better than me? How many years have I been cooking? Who is my master? Who does he think he is? Who does he think he is?"

No one cares about him.

The chatter continued, even louder now. It buzzed around him like a swarm of wasps, ready to sting him at any moment.

"That's enough!"

Factory Director Yang's stern shout silenced all the other sounds.

He stared at Sha Zhu, his gaze turning cold, as cold as well water in winter, chilling one to the bone.

"Since you're unwilling to work with Director Li—"

He paused.

"Then you can go clean the toilets."

Sha Zhu was stunned.

"From now on, you'll be in charge of all the factory's toilets."

Director Yang's voice was flat, as if he were saying that the weather was nice today, or what to have for dinner.

Are you satisfied with this job?

"What?"

Sha Zhu's voice was shrill and thin, as if someone were choking him, so thin it was like needles pricking his ears.

"Sweep...sweep the toilets?"

He swayed as if he had been hit on the head with a club, as if the ground beneath his feet had suddenly collapsed, as if the sky had fallen and smashed down on him.

You want a chef to clean toilets?

After years of learning his craft and honing his skills, all he gets to do is clean toilets, shovel manure, and deal with excrement?

"I……"

His lips trembled, his upper and lower teeth chattering loudly, like he was having a seizure. Finally, he managed to squeeze out the rest of his words, like squeezing toothpaste, little by little, with great effort: "I'm willing to work with Director Li..."

As soon as he said those words, he felt as if all his energy had been drained away. His shoulders slumped, his back bent, and he looked ten years older, as if someone had pulled out his spine.

But he had no choice.

Instead of moving stones, go clean the toilets.

Comparing the two, even a fool would know which one to choose.

Factory Director Yang glanced at him but said nothing more. His eyes held disappointment, impatience, and something else entirely—it was hard to describe, a mixture of pity and disgust.

He turned to the surrounding crowd, his voice rising again: "Have you seen enough? Get back to work!"

The crowd dispersed in an instant.

It was faster than a flash mob. The tightly packed circle that was just moments ago vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving only a few people walking slowly, turning back every few steps, clearly wanting more.

Li Jianguo pushed the cart toward the smelting workshop.

Factory Director Yang caught up and walked alongside him. The two walked at a moderate pace, their footsteps making a soft rustling sound on the ground.

"Please make arrangements for the second phase of the task today."

Li Jianguo nodded without saying anything.

Inside the workshop, all the ore from yesterday has been smelted.

The furnace fire was out, but the air still retained its heat. As soon as I entered, my face felt hot, as if it were pressed against a furnace. Several experts were gathered together, studying the smelted samples. Their heads were close together, pointing and whispering, their voices muffled and indistinct.

Li Jianguo walked in, and they looked up to greet him before going back to their own business.

He knew exactly what to do next.

The system has already provided the most accurate proportions.

But the experimental process still had to be followed. He couldn't just tell these people, "No need to try anymore, this is the number." Otherwise, he would really be treated like a monster, dissected, sent to some research institute, and never be able to get out, being scrutinized with a magnifying glass every day.

Fortunately, these experts can handle it themselves; he only needs to provide direction. Once they're on the right track, they'll reach their destination on their own, without him having to lead the way.

The morning went by quickly.

Li Jianguo walked around the workshop a few times, looking at this and asking that, but there was nothing he needed to do himself. He walked slowly with his hands behind his back, as if strolling in his own backyard, occasionally stopping to look around, nodding, and then continuing on his way.

Just after 11 o'clock, someone's stomach growled.

It made a gurgling sound, quite loud, especially in the quiet workshop.

Everyone then realized it was already noon. Looking out the window, the sun was high in the sky, so bright it made them dizzy.

"Let's go to the first canteen."

Someone made a suggestion.

"I heard the new chef is exceptionally skilled. I missed it yesterday, but I have to try it today; I can't miss it."

Li Jianguo went with them.

A long queue had already formed in the cafeteria. It stretched from the window all the way to the door, turned a corner, and continued to extend outwards, all the way to the base of the wall.

Nan Yi was serving food behind the window, scooping it out swiftly with a flick of his wrist, like he was performing. He looked up and saw Li Jianguo come in, his eyes lighting up like light bulbs, so bright they could be seen from a distance.

He handed the spoon to the person next to him, wiped his hands on his apron twice, and then came out from the back kitchen. His apron was stained with oil and vegetable leaves, but he didn't bother to remove them.

"Director Li."

He greeted us with a smile, a smile that was sincere, respectful, and perfectly timed, neither too much nor too little.

"You'll have to try my cooking at noon today. Wait a moment, I'll prepare a special meal for you. A big pot of food won't do; it won't bring out the flavor, and it would be a waste."

Li Jianguo did not refuse.

Why should he put himself through that when someone is willing to cook for him? It's not like he's waited on hand and foot every day, and he doesn't get that treatment every day.

The experts also benefited, their eyes shining as they followed behind like a flock of chickens waiting to be fed, their necks stretched out.

Nan Yi acted quickly.