Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Chapter 9 First Steps into the World: A Visit to the Factory

Lin Yan returned to the cold earthen bed from the spatial dimension and got up to get dressed. He picked up the original owner's clothes, only to find that they were obviously too short, clinging tightly to his body. He then realized that after two marrow cleansing and meridian strengthening sessions, he had undergone a complete transformation, and his height had increased from the original sickly 1.75 meters to 1.82 meters, and his physique had become much stronger.

"This is a bit of a hassle," Lin Yan muttered. Fortunately, there might be some clothes that fit him among his father Lin Jianguo's belongings. He rummaged through his belongings and finally found a half-new navy blue work uniform. Although the style was old, the size was barely right.

He used his divine sense, which could cover a radius of thirty meters, to thoroughly search every nook and cranny of the house. Sure enough, he found a small cloth bag in a hidden compartment under the kang mat. Inside were the family's grain ration book, household registration book, and a kraft paper envelope containing the eight hundred yuan pension.

Then, in his father's bedside table, he found a small, locked metal box. With a slight push of his fingertips, the lock popped open. Inside were neatly stacked 267 yuan in cash, a stack of national grain coupons, oil coupons, and cloth coupons, and at the bottom were two precious vouchers—a Shanghai brand watch voucher and a Forever brand bicycle voucher. Next to it was an envelope containing a slightly yellowed note with his father's somewhat clumsy handwriting:

[A gift for Yan'er on his high school entrance exam: a watch and a bicycle. I hope my son stays healthy and achieves academic success. —Father]

Looking at the short yet hopeful message, Lin Yan, though not the original owner of this body, couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, his vision blurring slightly. The image of that taciturn father, who had done everything in his power to pave the way for his sickly son, instantly became incredibly clear. He carefully put away the note and tickets; these were priceless memories.

To make sure nothing was left behind, Lin Yan picked up a washbasin and towel, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.

The chilly wind of early spring immediately swept over him. Lin Yan's consciousness stirred slightly, and the blood and qi within his body were instantly suppressed, his spiritual power restrained to the extreme. His face turned pale at a visible speed, and fine beads of cold sweat even appeared on his forehead. His back hunched slightly, and his breathing deliberately became rapid and heavy, perfectly replicating the appearance of a young man who had been ill and weak for a long time and had just experienced the pain of losing his father.

He carried the basin, his steps unsteady, as he walked along the passageway toward the communal water tap in the central courtyard. Across the way, the kitchen light was on in Yan Fugui's house, and the sounds of three middle-aged women busily working could be heard. Several early-rising neighbors were already washing up by the water basin in the central courtyard; seeing Lin Yan approach, they all made way for him.

"Xiao Yan is out? My condolences. Please take care of yourself."

"Yes, you still look unwell. You need to get more rest."

"If you're having any difficulties, just tell everyone..."

Faced with the neighbors' genuine or polite concern, Lin Yan forced a look of sadness and weakness onto his face and whispered his thanks: "Thank you for your concern, grandpa and grandma, I... I'm fine."

After quickly washing up, he practically fled back to his hut. Closing the door, he immediately stored his ration book, household registration book, all cash and vouchers, and his father's note in his storage ring. He then found a worn canvas satchel and slung it across his body, symbolically placing some loose change and a handkerchief inside as a disguise.

I went out again and locked the door. Because I left early and live in the front yard, I didn't run into any other neighbors, saving me a lot of small talk.

Walking the streets of Beijing on a clear morning in 1958, a strong sense of temporal displacement washes over you. Under a grey-blue sky, low-rise alleyways and courtyards stand, their walls adorned with huge white slogans: "Go all out, aim high, and build socialism faster, better, and more economically!"—filled with the unique passion and purity of that era. The incessant ringing of bicycle bells fills the air, and pedestrians, mostly dressed simply, hurry along. A faint smell of coal smoke and the crisp chill of a northern morning permeate the air.

"This air quality... it's truly torture for cultivators." Lin Yan frowned slightly, his keen senses allowing him to detect the impurities floating in the air.

Following his memory, he arrived at a state-run restaurant in Nanluoguxiang, where the place was bustling with activity. He spent some money and ordered a bowl of soy milk and two fried dough sticks. He tasted them; the soy milk was rich and smooth, and the fried dough sticks were crispy—a simple, unpretentious flavor. But he didn't eat much. After his cultivation practice, his body began to reject the grains and cereals of the secular world, easily accumulating impurities; a small taste was enough. This further strengthened his resolve to achieve self-sufficiency in food supplies for the "special supply zone" as soon as possible.

After breakfast, he went to the nearby supply and marketing cooperative. With the cloth coupons and money he had just received, he bought two well-fitting cotton-padded coats to replace the old clothes he was wearing that didn't fit.

He then walked to the bus stop, squeezed onto the clanging bus, and headed to his father's former workplace—the state-owned Hongxing Food Factory.

My father's memorial service was held three days ago, but he was unable to attend due to being "seriously ill." The purpose of this trip is twofold: first, to retrieve my father's belongings, and second, to collect his ashes.

The factory leaders felt great sympathy for Lin Yan, the orphan of their "frail and sickly" colleague, and processed the paperwork quickly. A canvas bag containing her father's old work clothes, lunchbox, notebooks, and other items, along with a heavy wooden urn with her father's photo on it, were handed to Lin Yan.

"Comrade Xiaoyan, please accept our condolences. Your father was a hero of our factory, and his spirit will always be worthy of our learning." The chairman of the factory's labor union patted Lin Yan on the shoulder, his tone heavy. "The factory has decided that, in addition to the compensation, we will provide an extra subsidy to fill your father's position. Once you turn sixteen and are feeling better, you can come to the factory to report for duty at any time."

Holding his father's urn and belongings, Lin Yan was overwhelmed with emotion. He solemnly thanked the factory leaders.

Looking at the work permit, Lin Yan's mind raced. This position was essential, but not for his own use. There had to be someone in the family with a job on the surface; otherwise, living off their savings would arouse suspicion. This provided perfect cover for his planned "cousin and his wife"—either of them could fill in for him!

As for his father's ashes, Lin Yan had already decided on their final resting place. He wanted to bury his father in that beautiful, tranquil place in the Qiankun Realm, a place where it would be peaceful and undisturbed, where he could pay his respects at any time and let his father truly find peace.

Holding his father's urn and belongings, Lin Yan walked out of the food factory gate. Looking at the bustling crowd on the street, a long-term plan gradually became clear in his mind.

He planned to take advantage of the "difficult period" of the next three years to trade grain with the country through Hong Kong channels in exchange for gold and antiques. This would not only meet the country's needs but also allow him to accumulate initial capital and future appreciation of hard currency.

Secretly, he will send out his Foundation Establishment stage puppets to quietly plunder the unclaimed wealth across the entire northern lands during this special period—wealth buried underground, scattered in the mountains and fields, or forgotten due to war. This will be his shortcut to rapidly accumulate capital.

Three years! He set himself a maximum of three years. After the three years of hardship, he would have to leave the mainland and use Hong Kong as a springboard to go out into the world.

He knew very well that he was not a research-oriented talent, and staying in the mainland and waiting for the reform and opening up would be a waste of his immense advantages of being a sage and having foresight. He had to go out ahead of time and establish a presence on a global scale: energy, semiconductors, optics, precision manufacturing, finance, and even the military industry... Only by mastering these core resources could he truly have the ability and confidence to support the country's development in the future and accomplish what he had not been able to do in his previous life.

Standing on the streets of Beijing in 1958, cradling her father's ashes, Lin Yan's gaze transcended time, landing on the more distant future. The next step was to go to the local street office to resolve the identity issues for the two soon-to-be "relatives."