Chapter 2: General Courtyard Meeting

The oil lamp in the door gap had just been moved when Zhao Jianguo heard San Daye's voice drifting over on the wind: "Tomorrow morning at eight, the whole courtyard will assemble for a big meeting! Don't be late, or you'll lose points!"

Okay, San Daye, I understand.

He stood behind the door without moving.

In his mind he only thought about one thing: tomorrow's meeting must not go wrong.

Zhao Erniu heard the movement and poked his head out of the room: "Jianguo, did you hear? Tomorrow's meeting, don't oversleep."

Hmm." He replied.

Li Xiaohua rummaged through boxes in the inner room: "Newcomers should show their faces, Jianguo, take out your blue cloth jacket, don't wear that T-shirt with words, it's too glaring."

Zhao Jianguo said nothing, silently pulling out that bleached work jacket from the box. The fabric was coarse, the collar had come undone, but at least it was 'proper clothing'. He shook it out, threw it on, the sleeves stuck out a bit, like borrowed.

Early the next morning, as the sky just began to lighten, the courtyard buzzed with activity.

Families streamed out one after another, adults and children all dressed neatly, as if going to a commendation meeting. Zhao Erniu had specially shaved his beard, and Comrade Li Xiaohua still had a red hair tie on her head, looking ten times more spirited than yesterday.

Zhao Jianguo followed behind his parents, hands in his pockets, fingertips lightly touching the inner side of his ring. He remembered the rule Zhao Erniu had set last night: speak less, listen more, watch more, don't steal the spotlight.

In the middle of the courtyard, three long benches had already been set up, covered with blue cloth, and the three steward elders were already seated upright, like three clay idols in a temple, each sitting straighter than the last.

The one in the middle was Elder Yi Zhonghai, his back straight, his gaze sweeping around—no one dared to breathe loudly. On the left was Elder Liu Haizhong, holding a small notebook, occasionally lowering his head to jot two notes, murmuring words like 'organizational discipline' and 'ideological awareness'. On the right was Elder Yanbugui, wearing round-frame glasses, his fingers tapping on his knees as if calculating accounts.

Sha Zhu was still his enthusiastic self; seeing the Zhao family come out, he immediately went up to them: "Master Zhao! Is your new home settled? Hey, this is little Zhao? Full of energy! At a glance, you're clearly following him!"

Zhao Erniu smiled and nodded: "Not bad, thanks for looking out."

Sha Zhu shouted loudly, and the whole courtyard heard: "Fellow residents! New neighbor Comrade Zhao Erniu, former seventh-level fitter at the Red Star Machinery Repair Factory! A technical expert! From now on, if anyone's water pipe leaks or stove won't light, just find him—sure to be right!"

As soon as he said that, a murmur rose from the crowd.

"A seventh-level fitter?" someone whispered, "That's a senior worker! The factory has to support them!"

"That's right, we've never had such a high-level technical worker move into our courtyard before."

"No wonder they brought a toolbox when they moved—look how heavy that box is."

Zhao Jianguo stood to the side of his father, listening to these words while his mind raced. He knew that once this identity was revealed, the Zhao family would instantly shift from 'newcomers' to 'people with ability'. But he also knew that fame attracts trouble, and the more prominent you are, the more gossip you draw.

He glanced sideways and saw Yi Zhonghai's brow twitch slightly, as if pricked by a needle. Though that expression flashed only for an instant, Zhao Jianguo caught it—it was wariness, tinged with dissatisfaction.

Liu Haizhong immediately stepped forward, laughing as he patted Zhao Erniu's shoulder: "Old Zhao, from now on if the factory has technical exchanges, we should definitely interact more!"

Yanbugui, meanwhile, lowered his head to flip through his booklet, muttering: "A seventh-level fitter… monthly wages must be seventy or eighty? Tsk, that's a lot more than my household."

Zhao Jianguo remained expressionless, but inside his mind clicked like an abacus, calculating rapidly. These three people: one calculates his old age after cutting off his lineage, one is an official‑seeker craving power, one loves scheming and money. In future dealings, we'll have to adjust to each accordingly.

Yi Zhonghai cleared his throat, and the whole courtyard fell silent at once.

"Today we gather for two reasons: to welcome the new neighbor, and to reiterate the courtyard rules." His voice wasn't loud, but each word struck the ground: "Our siheyuan values unity and mutual aid, and collectivism. Whoever practices individualism and takes public advantages, don't blame me for not showing sentiment."

The people below all nodded, and Zhao Jianguo nodded along, the motion small but just enough to be seen.

Next came Liu Haizhong's speech, a round of 'thought construction' and 'political awareness' that even Sha Zhu found himself yawning through. Yanbugui then pulled out a small notebook and recited a detailed breakdown of water and electricity fees, listing exactly which household used two extra degrees of electricity, which faucet wasn't tightened, item by item.

Zhao Jianguo listened and listened, yet his fingers subtly moved inside his pocket, relying on the perception of his spatial ring.

His gaze swept inch by inch over the courtyard.

Faucet—the interface was loose, water kept dripping, about three drops per minute; over time, how much water would be wasted?

Electric wire—a private line pulled from the electric pole, its rubber insulation aged, the joint wrapped in black tape, it loosens at a touch, and will surely fail in the rain.

Door hinge—the gate he had touched the night before, badly rusted, making a loud grinding noise when opened, long‑term wear will eventually seize it.

Moreover, several tiles under the eaves were loose; when the wind picks up they'll fall down.

These, in his perception, were no longer 'normal phenomena of a broken courtyard' but a 'fault list'. Basic repair skills acted like a ruler, automatically marking the problem points for him, and repair solutions sprang up: replace gaskets, rewire, lubricate, secure the tiles……

He noted each of these problems in his mind, but did not act.

He knew that acting now would be asking for trouble. Who shows off their ability on the first day as a newcomer? Either they're rushing to establish authority, or they're trying to grab credit. In this courtyard, too‑smart people don't stay long.

He lowered his head to look at his shoes—the hole was still there, but he wasn't in a hurry anymore. He now understood one thing: skill isn't for showing off, it's for crucial self‑preservation.

As the meeting was about to end, Yi Zhonghai suddenly spoke up: "Old Zhao, your skills are solid; the factory recently lacks someone to repair an old‑style punch press—would you like to give it a try?"

That sounded like an opportunity, but Zhao Jianguo could taste the implication—it was a test.

Zhao Erniu smiled: "If the factory assigns it, I'll definitely take it. But I need to check the equipment's condition—old machines have too many faults, so I must diagnose first."

"Diagnosis?" Liu Haizhong interjected, "Isn't it just swapping a part? Do we really need to diagnose?"

Zhao Erniu calmly replied: "Machines are like people—you must first find the cause. Just replacing parts treats the symptom, not the root."

When he said that, another low murmur rose from the crowd.

Yi Zhonghai's face darkened slightly, but he said nothing more.

Zhao Jianguo silently nodded in his heart. His father's answer was neither boastful nor retreating—just right.

After the meeting dispersed, the crowd drifted back in twos and threes.

Sha Zhu came over again: "Little Zhao, when you have time swing by the cafeteria for a meal—I'll fry you an egg; we technical workers ought to look out for each other!"

Zhao Jianguo just smiled and didn't respond.

He followed his parents toward the east wing room, his steps pausing for half a second as he passed the faucet.

Drip—

A water droplet fell into the iron basin, splashing a little.

He didn't look, but his mind had already noted: the copper valve core is severely worn, the gasket aged, needs replacement.

Further on, the electric wire dangled from the joint on the pole like a strip of shed snake skin.

Back inside, Li Xiaohua busied herself clearing the dishes, while Zhao Erniu sat on the bed edge smoking.

Zhao Jianguo stood at the doorway, not entering.

He turned his head and glanced at the courtyard.

Yi Zhonghai was still seated on the bench, talking with Yanbugui; Liu Haizhong sat nearby taking notes. Sha Zhu carried his lunch box toward the Steel Rolling Factory, humming a little tune as he walked.

He slowly raised his hand and touched the door frame.

The wood was rough, with a crack running through it.

He lightly slid his fingertip across it, as if testing the grain of the wood.

Then he withdrew his hand, turned, and went inside.

As his foot stepped onto the threshold, the hole in his shoe sole scraped against the wood, making a faint "scratch" sound.

He didn't lower his head to look.

He simply silently recited to himself:

Next time I sign in, I'll have to change the spot.