Chapter 27: The Matchmaking Banquet's Allure, Xu Damou Caught in the Net

The sun had just passed its zenith when Zhou Weimin stood at the entrance of He Yuzhu’s home, carrying a mesh bag. Inside were two square-shaped packages wrapped in yellow straw paper, a tin of malted milk powder with a red paper label, and two boxes of "Da Qian Men" cigarettes. He wore a clean, wash-faded blue Zhongshan suit, buttoned meticulously to the collar. His hair was neatly combed, and he wore black-rimmed glasses, giving him a scholarly air.

He Yushui, wearing a simple plaid blouse and her braids plaited tightly, stood beside her brother, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"Technician Zhou is here? Please, come in!" He Yuzhu greeted him with a faint smile, ushering him into the room. The space was tidier than usual, and a teapot and cups were already set on the table.

"Section Chief He, Comrade Yushui," Zhou Weimin greeted them with a hint of reserve, carefully placing his gifts on a bench by the door. "Just a small token of my respect."

"You’re too kind," He Yuzhu said, inviting him to sit. Yushui efficiently poured the tea.

"I heard from Chairman Liu that you’re a technical school graduate and a key player in the textile factory’s technical department?" He Yuzhu asked casually as he raised his cup.

"Yes, I was transferred there last year. I primarily oversee loom maintenance and process improvements," Zhou Weimin answered honestly, adjusting his glasses.

"Oh? Looms, that’s no easy task," He Yuzhu nodded. "In our factory, if a machine breaks down, it stalls production. People like you in technical roles are the factory’s treasures."

Zhou Weimin smiled modestly. "Not at all, I’m just doing my best in my position."

He Yuzhu shifted the topic. "Are you a local, Technician Zhou?"

"Yes, my parents are both middle school teachers. We live in the Southern City."

"Teachers, that’s wonderful—a scholarly family," He Yuzhu remarked, then asked for some details about his work. Zhou Weimin answered clearly and methodically; he wasn't flashy, but it was evident he knew his craft.

Yushui sat nearby, occasionally interjecting with a soft voice. Zhou Weimin listened attentively, turning his gaze toward her whenever he answered.

After about half an hour of pleasant conversation, He Yuzhu stood up. "You young people continue chatting; I’ll go prepare something to eat." He signaled for Yushui to look after their guest before tying on an apron and entering the small kitchen separated by a cloth curtain.

Soon, the sound of a spatula hitting the wok filled the air, and an enticing aroma of meat and caramelized fat drifted out.

Zhou Weimin couldn't help but sniff. "That smells wonderful. Comrade Yushui, your brother’s skills are..."

Yushui smiled demurely. "My brother used to work in a cafeteria; cooking is his specialty."

Inside the kitchen, He Yuzhu tossed the wok. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door to Xu Damao’s place—diagonally across the way—crack open. Xu Damao’s face was pressed against the gap, his nose twitching greedily as he inhaled the scent of meat, his expression a mix of envy and gluttony.

He Yuzhu sneered to himself, his hands never slowing.

***

When the food was served, a bowl of glistening, red-braised pork sat in the center, flanked by vinegar-glazed cabbage, a large bowl of tomato and egg soup, and a plate of smashed cucumbers drizzled with sesame oil. The staple was white flour buns.

"Just a simple home-cooked meal, Technician Zhou, I hope you don't mind," He Yuzhu said.

Zhou Weimin looked at the trembling, succulent red-braised pork and said sincerely, "Chief He, you are too modest. This is enough to make anyone’s mouth water." He picked up a piece, then couldn't resist reaching for another. "Delicious! It’s even more authentic than what the master chefs at the state-run restaurant make!"

He Yuzhu laughed. "As long as it suits your taste. Here, don't just eat the meat; have some soup." He ladled a bowl for his guest.

The meal was a success. Zhou Weimin didn't talk much, but he seemed like an honest man who showed proper respect to Yushui. He Yuzhu felt a sense of relief.

After seeing Zhou Weimin off, He Yuzhu cleared the table and asked, "He seems decent enough—very steady. But how do *you* feel about him?"

Yushui’s face remained flushed as she lowered her head and twisted her hem. "Brother, I think... he’s fine. He’s very sincere when he speaks."

"Well, no rush. Keep seeing him," He Yuzhu said, stacking the bowls. "I have to head to the factory; there’s some business to attend to."

***

He Yuzhu rode his bicycle not to the Rolling Mill, but to a chicken farm on the west side of the city. Since the contract with the meat processing plant for poultry was signed, he needed to know the state of the supply.

The farm was vast, with endless rows of coops. Through the wire mesh, he could see the chickens wandering or pecking at the ground. He Yuzhu pushed his bike, scanning them with a sharp eye—checking the color of their combs, the luster of their feathers, the state of their droppings, and their gait.

Knowledge he had recently acquired—"Primary Rapid Identification of Poultry Diseases"—automatically compared what he saw. Most of the chickens seemed in good spirits.

He walked to a more secluded coop where the chickens appeared listless; some were hunched over with ruffled feathers. He squatted down and peered through the wire at one chicken’s feet—they were slightly purplish. He frowned.

"Hey! What are you doing?" A worker in blue overalls carrying a feed bucket walked over, looking suspicious.

He Yuzhu stood up and produced his work ID. "Procurement Department of the Red Star Rolling Mill. Just here to check on the poultry."

The worker checked the ID and his expression softened. "Oh, a comrade from procurement. These chickens... they’ve got a minor issue, but the technician is working on it. It won't affect the overall supply."

He Yuzhu nodded without pushing further, though he noted the location and the situation. It seemed the supply chain wasn't as solid as it looked.

By the time he left the farm, dusk had fallen. As he turned into the alley of the courtyard, he nearly collided with the Third Master, Yan Bugui, who was rushing out of the front gate in a panic.

"Oh! Yuzhu! You're back!" Yan Bugui grabbed his handlebars, panting. "Quick! Go take a look! Something’s happened in the back courtyard!"

"What’s wrong?" He Yuzhu’s heart skipped a beat.

"Xu Damao! It’s Xu Damao!" Yan Bugui pointed toward the back, both anxious and angry. "That boy was caught under the back wall trading grain coupons! Aunt Zhang caught him red-handed! She shouted, and now everyone is crowding around. It’s total chaos!"

Trading grain coupons?! He Yuzhu’s eyes went cold. In these times, grain coupons were life itself; private trading was a serious crime. That grandson Xu Damao was truly tired of living!

Without a word, he shoved his bike into Yan Bugui’s hands. "Third Master, watch my bike!" He sprinted toward the back courtyard.

***

A crowd had already gathered against the back wall.

In the dim light, Xu Damao’s face was as pale as paper, sweating profusely. Two strong neighbors had his arms twisted behind his back, pinning him to the wall. He was struggling in vain, stammering, "Let me go! I wasn't selling them! I was just... just trading with a friend for some pocket change!"

Scattered on the ground were several colorful grain coupons and a small roll of cash.

A scruffy, shifty-looking stranger crouched in the corner, watched by two other neighbors, shivering in terror.

"Trading for change? Xu Damao, who do you think you’re fooling?" Aunt Zhang stood with her hands on her hips, her voice booming. "I saw you hand this roll of coupons to this 'black marketeer' with my own eyes, and he gave you money! You were caught red-handed, and you still want to deny it?"

"That’s right! We all saw it!" "Caught red-handed!" the neighbors chimed in.

He Yuzhu pushed through the crowd, his gaze like a knife cutting into Xu Damao’s face. "Xu Damao, you’ve got some nerve, don't you? Spreading rumors at the factory wasn't enough, so now you’re trading grain coupons? Tired of eating regular food and want to try prison rations?"

Seeing He Yuzhu, Xu Damao’s pupils contracted, the last trace of color draining from his face. His lips trembled, unable to form a lie, leaving only desperate fear.

"Brother Zhuzi, what should we do about this..." a neighbor asked.

He Yuzhu bent down, picked up the coupons and the cash, and assessed them. He straightened up, his voice low but filled with undeniable authority. "Call the police. Caught in the act—let the precinct handle it. Second Master, would you mind running to the police station?"

Second Master Liu Haizhong, who had been addressed, hesitated for a moment before snapping to attention. "Right! I’m on it!" He turned and pushed through the crowd.

"No... you can’t call the police! He Yuzhu! Silly Pillar! I beg you! I’ll give you money! Any amount! Just don't call the police!" Xu Damao panicked completely, howling like a stuck pig, struggling desperately only to be held tighter.

He Yuzhu watched him coldly, his eyes as frozen as ice.

***

In the office of the Deputy Factory Director of the Rolling Mill, Li Huaide leaned back in his chair, fiddling with a fountain pen while listening to his subordinate’s hurried report.

"...Director Li, word just came in. Xu Damao was caught red-handed trading grain coupons in the courtyard, and He Yuzhu called the police immediately! The officers are already there!"

"What?!" Li Huaide sat up abruptly. His fountain pen clattered onto the desk, rolling several times.

His face darkened instantly. He stared with venomous eyes at the ink stain on his desk, his fists slowly clenching. The office fell into a deathly silence, broken only by his heavy breathing.

"Useless piece of trash!" he spat through gritted teeth, his rage barely contained.