Courtyard House: Rebirth of a Shopkeeper in 1937

After a while, another senior brother, whose emotions had calmed down somewhat, lowered his voice and leaned closer to the group, saying—he deliberately lowered his voice and glanced warily towards the inner room as he spoke, afraid that Xingbao's mother inside would hear. They hadn't dared to say that the person they were looking for was Xingbao's uncle, lest they worry her and affect the fetus in her womb: "Later, we searched the wounded soldiers' camp, bed by bed, and finally found the person we were looking for. He and his comrade were both severely injured, covered in blood, their wounds still oozing blood, their clothes soaked through and clinging tightly to their skin, a heartbreaking sight. Fortunately, thanks to the medical staff's best efforts, they were finally saved..." He was out of danger and his life was no longer in danger. We gave him the gifts and our goodwill we had brought, and seeing how weak he was, we felt particularly sad. A few days later, his spirits improved a little, and he asked us to help him send a message home to let his family know he was safe. He also asked us to help him write a few letters home, wanting to tell his family about his situation and put their minds at ease. For the next few days, we all stayed in the wounded soldiers' camp to help, sorting the soldiers' mail, writing letters home for the seriously wounded, and taking care of those wounded who had difficulty moving, until we received the order to evacuate. We had to leave reluctantly, and when we left, we made a point of going to his bedside to say goodbye. By then, he was already able to get out of bed.

"When we left Shanghai, the situation was even more difficult and dangerous than when we went there. Train and boat tickets were impossible to buy. Shipping companies and train stations were filled with refugees, a dark mass of people, swarming together like ants, and it was impossible to squeeze through even several miles apart!" Another senior student frowned, his face showing pain, as he recounted the difficult journey back. "There were cries and shouts everywhere, and there were stampedes due to the overcrowding. People were constantly falling to the ground. The scene was chaotic and despairing. In the end, it was the relief groups from various places that organized and asked the army for help. They specially arranged cars so that we and other members of the relief groups could leave quietly in batches under the cover of night." "We went there as a complete team, but we returned missing many brothers—several brothers were tragically struck by enemy artillery fire while helping to transport supplies, falling forever on the battlefield in Shanghai, sacrificing their young lives to defend the country; others witnessed firsthand the brutality of the battlefield and the suffering of their compatriots, deeply moved, and resolutely chose to stay on the front lines and join the army, taking up arms to defend their homeland. We had to return as planned because we needed to send messages to our families and relay news from the front, thus failing our brothers' expectations." After saying this, the senior brothers exchanged glances, their eyes filled with sorrow, helplessness, and concern for their brothers left on the front lines. Then, they carefully took out several neatly folded letters from their pockets, gently smoothed out the creases, and quietly slipped them into Xingbao's hand.

After hearing the senior brothers' accounts, the main room fell into a deathly silence. Even breathing became exceptionally clear, as if a pin dropping could be heard. The eldest and second eldest brothers were ashen-faced, their lips pressed into a tight line, their hands clenched into fists, fingertips white, knuckles white from gripping so tightly. Clearly, they were speechless from the horrific scenes at the front, their hearts filled with shock and anger. Their father's brows were furrowed, his eyes filled with barely suppressed anger and heartache. His chest rose and fell slightly, his breathing became heavy, and his entire aura was so oppressive that no one dared to approach him. The coachman leaned against the wall, his eyes empty and numb, as if he had long been accustomed to such suffering, yet a faint sadness lingered deep within his eyes. The two travelers who had stayed overnight shook their heads and sighed repeatedly, their faces full of lament and regret, muttering softly, "What a tragedy," "So tragic," "The soldiers have had it so hard," their voices filled with sympathy.

The heavy silence weighed on everyone's hearts like a thousand-pound boulder, making it hard to breathe, and no one spoke for a long time. Just then, a senior brother's voice suddenly rang out, filled with undisguised confusion, mixed with a hint of resentment and helplessness, forcefully breaking the silence: "Uncle Song, we all know that you served under General Cai E, and you are knowledgeable and experienced, having weathered many storms. Tell me, if the general were still alive, would he support us in rushing into war with the Japanese without being properly prepared? Can we really win this war?" His voice was full of uncertainty, clearly his confidence had been shaken by the disparity at the front lines.

"Yes!" Father answered almost without hesitation, his tone firm, a hint of nostalgia and respect flashing in his eyes, as if he could see again General Cai E's dashing figure on the battlefield, bravely fighting the enemy. "Although I don't know why the National Government chose to launch a full-scale war against Japan before it was fully prepared, the General was loyal and patriotic throughout his life, prioritizing the greater good of the nation. Faced with foreign invasion, he would never back down in the slightest, and would definitely step forward to lead everyone in resisting the invaders! This is a just war, a war to defend our homeland and protect our compatriots. Even if conditions are harsh, we must fight with all our might and never retreat!"

"Senior brother..." Xingbao's weak voice came from the corner. He hesitated, raising his small hand, which trembled slightly, breaking everyone's reverie. Seeing everyone turn to look at him, their eyes filled with doubt and expectation, he took a deep breath, mustered his courage, and whispered, "Some time ago, a few people claiming to be teachers from Sanmin Middle School passed by here. They were checking on the school's construction progress. I overheard them chatting, saying that Japan's annual steel production is a whopping 5.8 million tons, while our country's annual steel production is only 40,000 tons—a difference of over a hundred times. If we wait a few more years until war breaks out, their strength will be even greater, and we might not even have a chance to fight!"

Seeing everyone fall silent again after hearing this, the atmosphere even heavier than before, everyone's face etched with solemnity, Xingbao pursed his lips, feeling a little nervous, but still mustered his courage and continued, "I also heard those gentlemen say that Japan is just a small island nation with scarce resources. The reason they were able to develop so quickly is because they plundered and absorbed the abundant resources of our three northeastern provinces, growing stronger by sucking our blood. Now that war has begun, we have no way out! As long as we can find a way to disrupt their resource plundering and cut off their supply lines, over time, their resources will run out, and their strength will gradually weaken. At that time, that will be our victory!"

In reality, those men weren't teachers from Sanmin Middle School at all; they were just a few supervisors from the school's construction project, there to make arrangements for the subsequent construction. They all acted superior, arrogant and unapproachable, completely ignoring anyone asking questions. Only Xingbao, feigning a well-behaved and cute demeanor, went to their side to help hand them things, and managed to overhear a few of their gossips. As for the comparison between China and Japan, it was all information Xingbao had seen online in his previous life. He only dared to mention steel production; saying too much, involving too much advanced information, would not only arouse suspicion but also severely damage everyone's confidence, making the already heavy atmosphere even more oppressive.

As Xingbao finished speaking, the silence in the main room grew even heavier, as if the air itself had frozen. His father let out a long, heavy sigh, his voice filled with weariness and desolation: "Alas! Is this some kind of stalling tactic?" These few words, however, carried an endless sorrow for the fate of his family and country, and a profound helplessness in the face of chaos. Like a stone thrown into a calm lake, they weighed heavily on everyone present, plunging them into uncertainty and worry about the future.