Chapter 203

On the morning of the 29th of the twelfth lunar month, the sky was still a pale blue, but the two children were already rolling around on the kang (a heated brick bed). The faint sound of firecrackers drifted in from outside the window, like pent-up energy finally finding a crack to escape after a long winter. The aroma of stewed meat wafted through the alley, mingled with the smell of sulfur, wafting into people's nostrils. This year, Beijing, finally, showed signs of life, emerging from its usual drab grayness.

Liu Guangqi and Zhao Mengyun each carried a child, wrapped in thick cotton-padded coats, and followed the crowd towards the temple fair. The long street was teeming with people; the bright red gourds gleamed in the winter sun, fried dough twists sizzled in the oil pans, and the children's laughter jingled like scattered coins. The city was much quieter now; those shadowy figures had been swept away many times over, so Liu Guangqi felt comfortable letting the children see something new.

The largest crowd gathered around the old man's sugar painting stall. A small copper pot simmered with clear, golden sugar syrup. With a slight tilt of his wrist, the old man sent strands of sugar flowing down like golden threads, swirling and turning on the smooth stone slab in the blink of an eye, transforming into a fluttering butterfly. Two children immediately scrambled to slide down, pointing at the slab and shouting, "I want a little rabbit!" "Me too!"

Liu Guangqi smiled and agreed, taking out some change to exchange for two glistening sugar paintings. The child held them in his hand, reluctant to lick them, only gazing at their translucent outlines in the light.

***

Returning to the courtyard in the afternoon, the front yard was eerily quiet. The Yan family's doors were tightly shut, and Yu Haitang, who usually tidied things up at the entrance, was nowhere to be seen. Just as Liu Guangqi was feeling puzzled, he saw a figure squatting under the locust tree—it was Sha Zhu, clutching an empty net bag in his hand, his eyes glazed over, as if most of his soul had been ripped out.

"What's wrong?" Liu Guangqi walked over and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Sha Zhu looked up, his forced smile more like a grimace: "She's gone... Yu Haitang is gone." His Adam's apple bobbed. "This morning, when she heard that Guangtian was bringing his girlfriend home, she went back to her room to pack her things, without even saying goodbye."

Liu Guangqi remained silent for a moment, his mind clear as a mirror. He had long sensed the girl's feelings, and her current actions were quite decisive. Guangtian was a proper technician at the factory, under the watchful eyes of countless people; how could outsiders have the right to covet him? Yu Haitang finally understood this. As for the third brother, Guangfu, he was too young for her to force the issue. Now that the dream was over, leaving was the most dignified ending.

Just then, He Yushui lifted the curtain and came out of the house, a brand-new blue cloth draped over her arm, as if she were about to make new clothes. Seeing the scene under the locust tree, she frowned and her clear voice boomed, "Brother Guangqi, don't pay him any attention! Let him brood on by himself!"

The room was warm and cozy, and laughter lingered in the air like melted honey. When Liu Guangqi pushed open the door, the chill from outside still clung to his shoulders, but he was instantly enveloped by the lively atmosphere.

"Brother's back!" Liu Guangtian jumped up, grinning, but his eyes still darted to the girl sitting beside him. The girl wore a light pink jacket, her short hair was neatly styled, and her face was clean. She stood up when she saw him, looking somewhat reserved, but her voice was clear and bright: "Chief Engineer Liu."

Zhao Mengyun smiled and pulled her to sit down: "We don't call you Chief Engineer at home. Just call me Big Brother like Guangtian does." She then grabbed a handful of sesame candy scattered on the table and stuffed it into her mouth, "Try it, I just bought it at the temple fair, it's still crispy."

The second aunt stood to the side, her hand gripping the girl's tightly, the wrinkles around her eyes smoothing out. She gestured towards Liu Guangqi with her chin, saying, "Look at her! This is Zhou Juan! A perfectly presentable girl, the one she's been dating all this time!"

Zhou Juan lowered her head slightly, her ears turning a little red. Liu Guangqi nodded and smiled, saying nothing more, simply hanging up her coat. The stove inside was burning brightly, the aroma of stew mingling with the scent of peanuts and melon seeds, making everyone's cheeks feel hot. The two little ones—Ruixue and Fengnian—had already squeezed to Zhou Juan's side, holding up their sugar paintings and chattering: "Second Aunt, look at my phoenix!" "Mine is a big carp!"

The crisp calls of "Second Aunt" made Zhou Juan blush even more, and she secretly glanced at Liu Guangtian. Liu Guangtian just rubbed his hands together and grinned foolishly.

Liu Haizhong strolled over carrying a teacup, coughed twice as if about to give a speech. He glanced at Zhou Juan, his tone gentle, but his questions carried weight: "How many people are in your family, Zhou? What do your parents do?"

Zhou Juan raised her eyes and answered calmly, "My parents both work at the Hongxing Factory. I have two younger sisters who are still in school."

"Working family is good, good class background." Liu Haizhong nodded, tapping his fingers on the rim of his teacup, then turned to Liu Guangqi and said in a low voice, "I think it's fine. Honest and decent-looking. What do you think?"

Liu Guangqi was peeling a roasted peanut when he heard this and smiled, "If you two think it's suitable, then it's fine. In the end, it's their own life to live." His gaze swept over his younger brother—the boy's eyes were bright and sparkling, reflecting the image of one person.

At this moment, Zhao Mengyun sat down next to Zhou Juan and asked about the factory's propaganda department in a soft voice. Her words were appropriate, and in just a few sentences, she made Zhou Juan relax, and gradually she dared to smile. The kettle on the stove was bubbling, and white steam was rising in wisps.

Suddenly, a few shouts drifted in from outside, seemingly coming from the front yard. He Yushui's voice was clear and bright, tinged with laughter yet also sounding like she was holding her breath: "...Three pounds of big apples! My brother is really generous! And what happened? He just dusted himself off and left, without even a trace!"

Then came Sha Zhu's muffled murmur, barely audible. Then came a burst of laughter—perhaps the Yan family children were joining in the fun.

The room fell silent for a moment, then the people looked at each other and laughed. Aunt Er shook her head: "Zhu Zi is a very honest man." Liu Guangtian took the opportunity to lean closer to Zhou Juan and whispered something. Zhou Juan gently pushed his arm away, but her eyes were filled with a smile.

Night gradually seeped through the window paper. The warm lamplight illuminated the lively atmosphere in the room. Melon seed shells piled up like a small mountain on the table, and sugar paintings gradually melted and shimmered in the children's hands. The wind outside seemed to have bypassed the door, leaving only a peaceful clamor within the room.

The tense atmosphere in the courtyard was broken by a child's innocent remark, instantly transforming into laughter. The adults exchanged glances, none of them daring to speak up. A joyful atmosphere permeated the house, as if even the air itself had become sweeter.

Some are happy, some are sad. While one family is filled with joy, another is secretly annoyed, feeling disappointed at having worked so hard for nothing. But these trivial neighborhood squabbles are ultimately just harmless spice in the festive season, quickly melting into the warmth of family reunion.

The backyard on New Year's Eve was warmer than usual. Strings of red lanterns hung under the eaves, their warm glow tinging the thin snow on the steps and illuminating the entire courtyard. The ink on the newly pasted Spring Festival couplets by the Liu family was still moist, faintly exuding the scent of pine smoke—this was originally a task that should have been written by the younger brothers, but the old man insisted that the eldest son, the most promising in the family, do it. Unable to refuse, Liu Guangqi had no choice but to pick up his wrist and write. His characters were as upright as pine trees, and the meaning was auspicious, attracting neighbors to come and admire them. Even the usually reserved Mr. Yan stood with his hands behind his back at his door, examining the couplet for a long time, and the next day he even pasted up a pair in the same style. This old gentleman really had a knack for making a name for himself, praising the couplet as the best in the world, which led many neighbors to follow suit, saying they wanted to absorb some of his literary talent and good fortune. Later, the word even spread to other courtyards. When Liu Guangqi found out, he could only shake his head and laugh – this old gentleman was shrewd; he even wanted to turn this little bit of artistic beauty into real benefits.

The kitchen was filled with steam. Two women were making dumplings at the work surface, their fingers flying across the board, creating rows of dumplings that looked like ingots. Two little children squatted beside them, each holding a lump of dough, trying to imitate the adults by kneading it, but their attempts resulted in rather odd shapes. Their little faces were covered in flour, making them look like little cats, which amused the adults.

A few scattered clattering sounds drifted from afar, signaling the approaching New Year. This was Liu Guangqi's first truly peaceful New Year since returning from his long journey, and he felt a sense of relief. Perhaps unaware, since his return to the courtyard, the usual clamor and arguments had quietly subsided. Neighbors greeted each other politely with smiles, as if they had all become refined gentlemen overnight. Only Old Master Liu felt a little lonely—he looked forward to the New Year's festivities all year round, hoping to hear a few flattering words and lively chatter, but now the courtyard was too quiet, making this lover of liveliness feel desolate.

Fortunately, this tranquility didn't last long. After New Year's Eve, Liu Guangqi took his wife and children to his wife's family to pay their respects. Only then did the familiar hustle and bustle return to the old man's ears. What made him even happier was that his second son had also gotten engaged this year and would soon be getting married. The old man's smile deepened—with his son married, his grandchildren wouldn't be far behind, and the vision of a prosperous Liu family was already before his eyes.

The essence of the Spring Festival in Beijing always revolves around eating, drinking, and having fun. Liu Guangqi spent several days completely relaxed at his in-laws' house, enjoying tea and chess with his father-in-law, occasionally reminiscing about unfinished stories from the Northwest. The Spring Festival holiday flowed by in this leisurely rhythm. After the holiday, he composed himself and returned to his department to work.

On the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, the government building was still adorned with festive decorations. The Spring Festival couplets along the corridors were still fresh, and on the office windowsills, freshly brewed tea in enamel cups was releasing wisps of steam. The staff, all with beaming smiles, greeted each other with "Happy New Year." Last year, the department had achieved remarkable results, a glory that made everyone walk with light steps and straight backs. With the new year bringing new beginnings, everyone was filled with renewed vigor.

A black sedan slowly drove into the courtyard and stopped in front of the building. The door opened, and Liu Guangqi stepped out briskly. Immediately, a sharp-eyed whisper came over: "Isn't that Director Liu?"

In the office, wisps of white steam rose from the teacups.

The minister tapped his fingertips lightly on the wooden armrest, his gaze drifting past the windowpane to the lingering snow in the courtyard. His voice was slow and deliberate, each word carefully chosen: "Guangqi, technical challenges require time, of course. The ministry has always given you its full support. But…" He paused, turning to face him, a barely perceptible expectation in his eyes, "Your banner needs a new direction."

Liu Guangqi sat on the opposite sofa, his back straight, but not stiff. He heard the unspoken meaning in the words—not urging, but more like a silent waiting for a move. The light from the window slanted across his profile, illuminating his excessive calm with exceptional clarity.

"The direction has always been there." He spoke, his voice calm and unwavering. "Computers are the brain, but a brain alone isn't enough. Our industry needs to keep up with the demands of its hands and feet as well."

The minister's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, and he leaned forward slightly: "Oh? Tell me more."

"Automation." Liu Guangqi uttered three words, as concisely as stating a given fact. "It's not about improving a single machine, but about the coordinated operation of the entire production line, or even the entire workshop. It's about enabling machines to understand instructions, operate on their own, and adjust themselves, freeing people from repetitive and tedious tasks so they can focus on more critical matters."

The office fell silent instantly, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock. The minister didn't respond immediately, but simply looked at him, as if trying to see through his youthful composure to discern the grand plan hidden within. After a long while, he slowly leaned back in his chair, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips, reaching deep into his eyes: "Quite ambitious. This isn't something that can be accomplished with mere tweaks."

"That's why it takes time," Liu Guangqi said frankly. "I already have some ideas for the basic theoretical model. We need a capable team, and a few factories willing to be our testing grounds, not afraid of the initial difficulties or the lack of immediate benefits."

"Experimental fields..." the minister repeated softly, his finger unconsciously tracing a circle along the rim of his teacup. "Any places you like?"

"I've looked at a few," Liu Guangqi answered cautiously. "The heavy machinery factory has a solid foundation, but it also carries heavy burdens; the precision instrument factory has good technology, but its scale is too small. Ideally... it would be a factory that has both scale and the determination to reform."

That's where the conversation ended. The rest is up to the other party to weigh the options and make a decision.

The minister was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled, this time with a hint of relief: "You... always manage to say the hardest things so naturally." He waved his hand, not letting Liu Guangqi respond, "I'll coordinate the personnel and the location. You just need to turn that 'idea' into a tangible solution that I can see and touch as soon as possible. If you need any support, just contact Lao Lin, or... come directly to me."

This is tacit consent, and it also means gently placing a heavy burden on the other person's shoulders.

Liu Guangqi stood up, without saying much, but simply nodded earnestly: "Understood."