Chapter 35

Zhao Jianguo held his lunch box, just stepped out of the cafeteria door, when he heard someone call his name from behind. He turned and saw Sha Zhu standing inside the window, hand resting on the serving counter, his expression unlike usual, missing his usual cheerful smile, as if he had something to say but couldn't get it out.

"Zhao Jianguo," Sha Zhu put the big spoon in his hand into the bucket, took a few steps, "You said yesterday... do you really have evidence?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't rush to reply, lowered his head to look at the shiny meat slice in his lunch box, and knew in his heart. This meat wasn't given for nothing; it was the string in Sha Zhu's heart, finally stretched to the point of breaking.

"If you trust me, go to the Youju before noon tomorrow." He passed the lunch box over, took out a neatly folded slip of paper from his pocket, "Find Old Liu, tell him you are He Yushui's older brother, coming to check on the letter your father sent back. If he asks for proof, show him this copied receipt record—it says: ten yuan each month, eight years, recipient: Yi Zhonghai."

Sha Zhu took the slip, his fingers rubbing back and forth over the line of characters, as if touching a hot piece of iron.

"You mean he... withheld the money and the letters? For eight years?"

"Go check it yourself." Zhao Jianguo patted his shoulder, "Don't rush to accept, don't rush to turn hostile. Once you find out, decide whether to keep being his 'old-age donkey' or to be Sha Zhu again."

Sha Zhu said nothing, gripped the paper, turned and went back to the window. Zhao Jianguo didn't linger either, picked up his lunch box and left. He knew he didn't need to push further; Sha Zhu would finish the rest on his own.

Early the next morning, the Youju had just opened its doors when Sha Zhu arrived. He wore a faded work uniform, the edges of his cloth shoes worn thin, standing at the counter, his voice low but steady: 'Comrade, I want to check if anyone named He Daqing has ever sent money or letters here. The recipient is my sister, He Yushui.'

The staff member glanced up at him: 'This is private information, you can't just look it up.'

"I know." Sha Zhu took out a yellowed family photo from his pocket and gently placed it on the counter, "I'm her older brother. Her father has been away, wanting to contact the family all these years, but we've never received a letter or seen any money. I just want to confirm whether it was really sent."

The female staff member looked at the photo, then at him, hesitated: 'Then you need to be clear—exactly when was it sent?'

"Roughly... starting eight years ago, ten yuan a month, probably all sent to the Steel Rolling Factory side."

The staff member frowned, flipped through the old ledger for a moment, then stopped: 'There really is. Every month on the first, He Daqing sends ten yuan, recipient... Yi Zhonghai?'

Sha Zhu's chest tightened suddenly.

"What about the letters? Any family letters?"

"Yes, one every quarter, also signed for by him."

"Did he... forward them to the recipient?"

"We don't know that; once signed for, it counts as completed delivery."

Sha Zhu didn't ask further, silently put the photo away, thanked him, turned and walked out of the Youju. Outside the sun was bright, but it seemed to cast a gray over his face. He stood on the steps, hands in his pockets, clutching that slip Zhao Jianguo had slipped him sometime ago, his knuckles white.

He didn't go back to the factory, didn't Go Home, went straight to the Siheyuan.

At dinnertime, almost everyone in the Courtyard had gathered. Yi Zhonghai squatted at his own door with a bowl, picking up pickled vegetables to his mouth, seeing Sha Zhu enter, he still greeted cheerfully: 'Zhuzi back? Any red-braised meat in the cafeteria today?'

Sha Zhu ignored him, walked straight to the center of the skywell, took out that paper, unfolded it, his voice low but each word hit like a hammer on the ground:

"Yi Zhonghai, my father He Daqing has been giving you ten yuan a month since 1951, to pass on to my sister, for eight years, ninety-six times, a total of nine hundred sixty yuan. How many times have you passed it on?"

The Courtyard fell silent all at once.

Yi Zhonghai's chopsticks trembled, almost dropping the pickles. He lifted his head, forced a smile: 'Sha Zhu, where did you hear this rumor? I wouldn't dare withhold the money; I'm just keeping it for your sister, waiting for her to use it…'

"Keeping it?" Sha Zhu snorted, "What about the letters? My father sends one every quarter, have you forwarded even one? My sister has searched everywhere and can't find a single sheet, and you talk about 'keeping it'?"

"These... these letters, maybe they got lost on the way…"

"I went to the Youju today to check." Sha Zhu's voice suddenly rose, "The receipt log clearly states—'He Daqing sent ten yuan, recipient: Yi Zhonghai.' No forwarding record, no notes, nothing at all! You've collected for eight years, given not a cent, not forwarded a single letter, and now you say they got lost?"

Yi Zhonghai's face changed, his bowl unsteady in his hands: 'You… you're talking nonsense! I, Yi Zhonghai, have been in the Courtyard for decades—who doesn't know I'm upright? You're listening to someone stirring trouble, coming here to sling mud.'

"Slandering?" Sha Zhu jerked the copied slip from his pocket and flung it to the ground, "This is the Youju's record! Black on white! Do you dare, in front of everyone, say you never took this money?"

The onlookers began to murmur.

"Oh my, is this really true?"

"No wonder Sha Zhu's sister is always dirt poor—turns out the money went into someone else's pocket."

"Master Yi said he was keeping it for them—where did it go? Bank? Or under his own kang?"

Yi Zhonghai sweat beaded on his forehead, still trying to explain: 'I'm doing this for He Yushui's own good! If I put the money in her hands, what if she gets scammed? This isn't…'

"What aren't you?" Sha Zhu suddenly stepped forward, chest heaving, "You're not doing it for them, you're doing it for yourself! You said I could be a big shot after retirement, said you were paving the way for me, just so I'd willingly be your ox and horse! Repairing houses, buying materials, laying out money and grain, you? You won't even give me a bowl of water to drink! What are you after? After my stupidity?"

He grew angrier the more he spoke, suddenly yanking off the 'Advanced Producer' badge on his chest and slamming it to the ground, making a clear crisp sound.

"From now on, I'm not your old-age donkey! Your little schemes, Sha Zhu won't accept them!"

Having said that, he turned and walked away.

Yi Zhonghai stood frozen, mouth open, unable to utter a word. The badge rolled to his feet, got a bit of mud, and no one bothered to pick it up.

The Courtyard was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; even the next-door kid's wailing stopped.

Three days later, Zhao Jianguo weekend Go Home, just stepped through the Courtyard Gate when he heard a 'ding-ding-dang-dang' knocking sound from the back yard. Going over, he saw Dong Xu squatting on a stone stool, holding a new Wrench, taking apart an old bearing, movements swift, his hand steady without a tremor.

Zhao Erniu stood beside him, arms crossed, a rare smile appearing on his face.

"This kid, fixing a hydraulic pump now takes him twenty minutes to finish; before it would take over an hour of fussing." Zhao Erniu saw Zhao Jianguo, shook his head with a smile, "My teaching of apprentices never leaves a hand held back. He, on the other hand, asks 'why' at every step—I can't not teach him."

Dong Xu wiped his hands, looked up and saw Zhao Jianguo, grinning: 'Jianguo, your dad's touch is absolute. Just installing a seal ring, he explains three different materials' applicable scenarios, and teaches me how to use simple tools to test dynamic balance. Now when I repair equipment, I feel confident.'

"So you're at level-three worker standard now?" Zhao Jianguo teased him.

"A little short." Dong Xu didn't boast, "The theory still needs catching up, but in practice I dare say I'm stronger than half the level-two workers in the factory. The key is—" he lowered his voice, "I don't have to watch anyone's face waiting for 'pointers' anymore."

Zhao Jianguo nodded, said nothing.

He knew this wasn't just technical progress, but a person standing upright.

After another two days, news came from the Steel Rolling Factory workshop: Dong Xu independently fixed the transmission fault of the No. 3 press, resuming production forty minutes ahead of the scheduled downtime. The workshop chief personally came to inspect the scene, patted his shoulder and said, 'Little Xu, well done.'

That evening, Yi Zhonghai ran into Dong Xu in the Courtyard, still wanting to chat: 'Xu, busy lately? Want to come to Master Yi's place for a chat?'

Dong Xu glanced at him, calmly said: 'Master Yi, I'm now learning under Master Zhao; he teaches in detail, and I'm learning solidly. Your set of 'experience' I don't really have use for.'

Yi Zhonghai froze in place, his face flushing red then turning pale.

He still wanted to say more, but Dong Xu had already turned and walked away, his back straight as a rod, his steps swift and decisive.

Zhao Jianguo stood at his own doorstep, watching this scene, understanding: the pawn had broken free of its cage, and was running faster than anyone.

Another weekend, Zhao Jianguo met Sha Zhu in the Courtyard. The two sat on a stone bench, neither mentioning the Youju matter, nor the badge that had fallen to the ground.

Sha Zhu rubbed his hands, then suddenly said: 'My sister yesterday turned up an old iron box, inside were several remittance slip stubs, left by my father back then. She counted them—exactly ninety-six.'

Zhao Jianguo didn't respond.

Sha Zhu lifted his head, gave a smile that carried a touch of bitterness and a hint of ruthlessness: 'My father thought the money had arrived, my sister thought he'd forgotten her. The result? It all ended up in someone else's pocket.'

He paused, his voice dropping: "You say, how can a person be this bad?"

Zhao Jianguo patted his shoulder: "It's not that he's so bad, it's that you trusted him too much."

Sha Zhu didn't retort, just nodded.

The two sat, saying nothing more.

From outside the courtyard came the sound of a bicycle bell, ringing nearer and nearer.

Sha Zhu suddenly stood up and walked toward the door.

Zhao Jianguo asked where he was going.

"Going to find my sister." He said, "I ought to read those letters, one by one, to her."