Chapter 64

Zhao Jianguo slipped the small file into his trouser pocket as the sky brightened; he didn't rush back inside, stood at the courtyard gate smoking a cigarette whose ember glowed faintly like a flashlight beam in the archive room at night, while from the neighboring kitchen came the sound of a spatula scraping the pot bottom—Qin Huairu was cooking porridge, the rice broth bubbling, hot steam squeezing out of the door gap and blowing onto the back of his neck.

He stubbed out the cigarette and turned into the courtyard.

As he swept to the Qin family's door, the water pipe leaked again, droplets falling one by one into the enamel basin with a dinging sound; he crouched down to look—the joint was loose, the gasket aged—no one had ever bothered with this before, each household fixed its own leaks, and if they couldn't fix it they just set out a basin.

Today he didn't leave.

He pulled a strip of rubber from the toolbox, cut it into a loop, wrapped it twice, tightened it, and the water stopped at once. Qin Huairu came out holding a bowl of porridge, stood stunned in the doorway: "Is it… fixed already?"

"Just a minor problem." Zhao Jianguo brushed his hands together, "You're using a pipe from the 1960s—it's long overdue for replacement."

"You even know this?" she said, half-disbelieving.

"Not just that." He stood up and said offhand, "The pump can be modified, the motor tuned, even the cafeteria steamer's pressure can be calculated to see how far off it is."

He hadn't meant to say it for anyone in particular, but Sha Zhu happened to be passing by the doorway, heard it, and stopped: "Jianguo, when did you learn all this?"

"I've always known." Zhao Jianguo smiled, "I just never had the chance to use it."

The news rose like steam from a basket, layer upon layer. At lunchtime, San Daye squatted by the door gnawing a steamed bun, having heard the matter, he narrowed his eyes, pondered for a while, and muttered: "These days, whoever has ability gets heard."

In the evening, Yanbugui was dumping coal ash when he ran into Zhao Jianguo also tidying up tools in the courtyard.

He stood there a while, rubbing his hands, wanting to speak but holding back.

Zhao Jianguo didn't ask, just lowered his head and tightened the screws.

"Um…" Yanbugui finally said, "I heard you have a book? What's it called… *Civil Machinery Modification Manual*?"

Zhao Jianguo looked up at him: "How do you know that?"

"Nothing stays hidden in this courtyard." Yanbugui gave a dry laugh, "I'm just… curious. Could I borrow it to take a look?"

"Can't lend it." Zhao Jianguo tightened the last screw, put the tools away in the box, "This book is a system reward, it has a serial number, and distributing it would incur liability."

Yanbugui's face stiffened, thinking there was no hope.

But Zhao Jianguo added, "If you want to learn, I can teach you."

"Really… really?" Yanbugui's eyes lit up, "As for the civil defense squad… I'm getting old, my back isn't what it used to be, so from now on I'll have to rely on you more."

Zhao Jianguo didn't respond to that, just said, "Saturday afternoon I'll hold a class in the west wing room; anyone who wants to come is welcome."

Yanbugui stared for a moment, then nodded, "All right, then I'll resign as team leader tomorrow and go to the residents' committee to quit."

He took two steps, then turned back: "Jianguo, are you really intending to teach?"

"I really am." Zhao Jianguo looked at him, "I don't make a living from this; I rely on the trust of the group."

The next morning, He Yushui ran into Zhao Jianguo at the grain station doorway, carrying a half‑sack of rice.

"Jianguo, I heard you fixed the pump?"

"Fixed it, and I left the old one in your backyard."

"You should keep it for yourself; I'd feel ashamed to take it."

"Keeping it is useless." Zhao Jianguo took the rice, slipped it into her cloth bag, "You handle the grain coupons, I handle the technology—we'll trade favors. Keep two pounds of white flour for me, and I'll install a new impeller on your pump."

He Yushui blinked, then laughed, "You're the kind of person whose words leave no room to refuse."

"Then don't refuse." He patted the bag, "Come to the lecture on Saturday too, bring your notebook."

At noon in the canteen, Sha Zhu was steaming rice while Xu Da Mao deliberately turned down the gas valve, so the steamer produced no steam for half an hour. Seeing the rice was about to come out undercooked, Sha Zhu scratched his head in frustration.

Zhao Jianguo passed by, glanced, and said, "The pressure's insufficient—your steamer is leaking air."

"Where is it leaking?"

"The seal ring on the bottom valve is cracked." Zhao Jianguo squatted, tapped with his finger, "You can tell just by the sound. Grab a wrench—I'll show you how to replace it."

In a few quick moves they took it apart, fixed it, and the steam burst out with a puff, the aroma of rice spreading instantly.

Xu Da Mao saw it from the window, his face fell, but he didn't dare say a word.

That evening, Sha Zhu showed up at Zhao Jianguo's door holding two bottles of Red Star Erguotou.

"Jianguo, I think I finally get it." He set the cup down on the table, "Before I always felt you were different from the rest of us; now I know exactly how—you have talent and you don't hoard it."

"I've never hidden it." Zhao Jianguo poured wine into a bowl, "I'm just waiting for someone who's willing to believe."

"Sha Zhu today lays down this line." He downed the drink in one gulp, "From now on, if you tell me to go east, I'll never go west. Whoever disagrees can come find me!"

The two were still drinking when Jia Dongxu pushed the door open, notebook in hand.

"I'd like to sign up for your class too." He opened the notebook, "I want to learn motor modification."

"Welcome." Zhao Jianguo poured him a drink, "Your brother's matter will eventually need an explanation, but first we have to secure a livelihood."

Jia Dongxu nodded, said nothing more, but his gaze steadied.

The next day, a crowd gathered around the courtyard's notice board.

A red sheet was posted in the center:

**Technical Night School Recruitment Notice**

Classes start every Saturday afternoon at two o'clock.

Content: pump modification, motor speed control, pipe sealing, steamer pressure regulation.

Registrants get priority use of the courtyard's modification equipment.

Lecturer: Zhao Jianguo.

Below, three names were signed neatly:

**Sha Zhu, He Yushui, Jia Dongxu**

Qin Huairu walked by holding her child, stared for a while, then whispered to Jia Dongxu, "Will this really work?"

"He fixed the motor my brother broke years ago." Jia Dongxu said, "Your water pipe, too, was tightened by him in passing."

"But… what about Jia Zhangshi's side…"

"She can't stop it." Sha Zhu interjected, "Who nowadays doesn't want to save coal and electricity? What Jianguo teaches is genuine skill. If she tries to block it, she first has to ask whether the crowd agrees."

In the evening, Jia Zhangshi was airing her bedding in the courtyard when she saw Qin Huairu copying notes, frowned, and said, "What are you doing?"

"Zhao Jianguo starts the class, I'll note the key points." Qin Huairu lowered her head, "The kids are grown up, they also need to learn a skill."

"You really go?" Jia Zhangshi raised her voice, "He's an outsider, what right does he have to set rules in the courtyard? Yi Zhonghai fell, is it his turn?"

"Yi Zhonghai fell, it's because he let his mouth slip." Zhao Jianguo stood at the doorway at some point, "Whether I set the rules isn't important; what matters is who can let everyone use less coal, save more electricity, and not go hungry."

Jia Zhangshi choked, unable to continue.

"Saturday afternoon, the door will be open." Zhao Jianguo looked at her, "If you want to come, you may; if you don't want to, no one will force you. But if you stop others from coming, don't blame me for not showing favor."

He turned and left, leaving Jia Zhangshi standing where she was, the quilt half-dried, the rope swaying in the wind.

That Saturday, the West Wing Room was full of people.

San Daye brought a small stool and sat in the front row; He Yushui brought a new notebook, dipping the pen tip in ink; Sha Zhu, afraid of being late, arrived an hour early and even helped move the desks.

Zhao Jianguo stood in front, holding a piece of chalk.

"Today's first lesson: water pump pressure-boosting modification."

He turned and drew a diagram on the blackboard, the lines neat, the labels clear.

Someone in the audience whispered, "This isn't a worker, he's practically an engineer."

"Where did he study before?"

"Never mind where he studied, as long as he can teach."

Halfway through the lesson, a commotion came from outside the courtyard.

Yanbugui led the people from the residents' committee over, holding a piece of paper.

"Zhao Jianguo, this is the appointment letter for the new joint defense team leader." He spoke softly, but everyone heard, "The organization says you're the most suitable."

Zhao Jianguo didn't stop drawing, continuing to sketch the water pump structure.

"Just put the appointment letter on the desk." He said, "The lesson isn't over yet."

Yanbugui placed the paper on the windowsill and retreated to sit in the back row.

Outside the window, sunlight slanted onto the four characters "Technical Night School" — red paper, black characters, like a newly posted door god.