Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The oil lamp in the mud-walled house of the regimental headquarters had its wick slightly brightened by Zhao Gang's needle, its dim yellow light expanding somewhat and barely dispelling the darkness in the corner. However, it also made the pervasive smell of tobacco and the heavy atmosphere in the air even more clearly discernible. He Damin had only been gone for less than half a cup of tea's time with Wei Dayong when the heavy wooden door shut out both the winter night's chill and the figures of their newcomers.

Zhao Gang didn't speak immediately. He walked to the earthen bed, picked up his enamel mug, and took a large gulp of the now-cold boiled water, as if trying to suppress the surging doubts and unease in his heart with the icy liquid. He put down the mug, his fingers unconsciously tapping the rough edge of the bed, making a soft, thumping sound. Finally, he turned around, lowered his voice, and said to Li Yunlong, who was still puffing on a cigarette and squinting at the cave ceiling, "Old Li, do you... really believe what that Mr. He said?"

His voice was soft, but exceptionally clear in the quiet cave dwelling, carrying the prudence characteristic of intellectuals and a hint of barely concealed worry.

Upon hearing this, Li Yunlong slowly turned his head, the half-smoked cigarette trembling at his lips. He didn't answer immediately, but instead used his sharp eyes, which seemed to pierce through people's hearts, to scrutinize Zhao Gang from head to toe as if he were a fool, until Zhao Gang felt extremely uncomfortable, before finally letting out a short, cold laugh from his nostrils.

"Believe?" He scoffed, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that distorted and shifted under the light. "Believe my ass!"

Zhao Gang was taken aback by his blunt and rude answer, his brows furrowing even more: "But... that truckload of weapons is real. Five hundred Type 38 rifles, and machine gun ammunition, it can't be faked. Wei Dayong saw it with his own eyes."

"The weapons are real, no doubt about it." Li Yunlong stubbed out his cigarette hard on the edge of the kang (heated brick bed), a few sparks flying before it went dark. "But that just proves there's a bigger problem! Old Zhao, you're an educated man, smart, but sometimes you're too naive!" He stood up, paced a few steps in the cramped cave dwelling, his heavy cotton shoes thumping on the ground. "Think carefully, that guy surnamed He, from his appearance to his departure, what exactly was right?"

He stopped, turned around, and stared intently at Zhao Gang: "First, the timing of his appearance. Our Independent Regiment just suffered a heavy loss in Yangcun, and we're short of guns and ammunition. We're itching to get revenge on the Japanese, and he 'just happens' to deliver himself to our doorstep, and he delivered a whole cartload of him! Is there really such a coincidental 'business' in the world?"

"Secondly, his identity and background. He's so secretive, only saying he's a 'trader.' Trading antiques for weapons? Nonsense! These days, who has the ability to acquire so much brand-new Japanese equipment, and to brazenly drive Japanese trucks through enemy-occupied territory to deliver it to our base? Do you believe that?" Li Yunlong pointed a finger to his temple. "I know even with my eyes closed, something's fishy going on here!"

Zhao Gang remained silent. He had considered these questions, but the sheer weight of the truckload of weapons made him subconsciously reluctant to delve into the potential risks behind them.

Li Yunlong leaned closer, lowering his voice even further, with a cold, knowing tone: "Third, and most importantly—did you look closely at his appearance? Although he's dressed in our commoner's clothes and his face is smeared with ash, some things can't be hidden!"

He gestured with his hand to indicate his height, then pointed towards the door: "That little devil... cough, that Mr. He, his height! Typical short and stocky build of a Japanese pirate! And the way he speaks, he sounds like he has a Hebei accent, but the way he pronounces certain words, and the way he stands and walks... I've dealt with Japanese devils for so many years, I've killed at least eighty or a hundred of them, I'd recognize them even if they were ashes! This guy surnamed He, ninety-nine percent of the time he's a Japanese devil! At least he's in cahoots with the Japanese!"

Zhao Gang gasped, his eyes widening behind his glasses: "You mean... he's a Japanese spy? Using this truckload of weapons as bait to probe our strength, or even... lure us in?"

"Otherwise what?" Li Yunlong sat back down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), arms crossed, a sneer on his face a mixture of excitement and ruthlessness. "Spending a truckload of weapons just to exchange for some broken bottles and junk? The Japanese may be stupid, but they're not that stupid! They've gone all out, trying to catch a big fish! My Independent Regiment, and the people of Zhao Jia Yu, are the big fish in their eyes!"

The air inside the cave seemed to freeze. The flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting two huge, swaying shadows on the wall. Zhao Gang felt a chill run down his spine. If Li Yunlong's assessment was correct, then Zhao Jiayu at this moment was no different from sitting on a volcano about to erupt.

"So... what do we do now?" Zhao Gang's voice was a little hoarse. "The weapons have been taken, and the men have entered the village..."

"What do we do?" A glint flashed in Li Yunlong's eyes. "We'll play along! He's offering bait, and I'll take it! But how I take it is up to me!"

He suddenly stood up and began to deploy quickly and clearly. He didn't look like a regimental commander who had just been "enthusiastically" entertaining "arms dealers," but rather like an old hunter who had smelled the scent of prey and was preparing to ambush them.

"First, keep a close watch!" Li Yunlong tapped his fingers on the table. "Tomorrow morning, after this 'Mr. He' leaves, immediately have the monk arrange for a few quick-witted, fast-moving soldiers to change into civilian clothes and follow him from a distance! Don't get too close, and most importantly, don't get spotted! I want to see which hellhole he goes to after leaving Zhao Jia Yu! Is he going back to the Japanese stronghold in the county town, or somewhere else to make contact!"

"Second, evacuate the villagers!" His tone was resolute. "Regardless of whether this man surnamed He is a spy or not, the possibility that the Japanese have their eyes on Zhao Jia Yu is extremely high. We can't risk the lives of our fellow villagers! Before dawn, organize the militia and the soldiers who remain to help all the villagers, taking the necessary food and bedding, and quietly evacuate to the cat-ear cave on the back mountain and the several secret caves we've prepared beforehand! The movement must be quick and covert!"

"Third, troops, prepare!" Li Yunlong walked to the simple battle map on the wall, pointing to the terrain around Zhao Jia Yu. "Let's choose a good spot and ambush! The area around the old locust tree at the village entrance is good; it's open in front, with a slope behind and ditches on both sides, perfect for an ambush. Distribute some of our newly received rifles so the soldiers can familiarize themselves with them. We have enough ammunition; we'll use the ones the Japanese 'sent' us!"

He turned around, his face a mixture of gambler's fanaticism and calm: "If the Japanese aren't many, just a company, or even a reinforced company... I'll use the guns they 'given' to me to wipe them all out! That'll avenge the brothers who sacrificed themselves in Yang Village, and also add some more battle merits and equipment to our Independent Regiment!"

"What if..." Zhao Gang couldn't help but interrupt, his face grim, "What if the Japanese come in larger numbers? A whole battalion, or even more? After all, they're willing to use a truckload of weapons as bait..."

Li Yunlong's smile turned cold, his eyes sharpening like blades: "If too many come, a direct confrontation wouldn't be wise. We'll lead them by the nose, maneuvering them in the mountains! We'll use the terrain for guerrilla warfare, chipping away at their health in small engagements! With this batch of ammunition, we're much more confident. Once we've exhausted and broken them, we'll find an opportunity to strike! In short, we can't let them come comfortably, and we certainly can't let them easily find our main force and wreak havoc on our fellow villagers!"

He looked at Zhao Gang: "Old Zhao, quickly draft an emergency report, outlining the situation here, our assessment, and our response plan. Send it to the brigade headquarters as fast as possible! At the same time, notify nearby district squads and county brigades to be on high alert, pay attention to the Japanese movements, and be ready to provide support at any time!"

Zhao Gang nodded emphatically. Although Li Yunlong's plan was bold, it was clear in its thinking and well-founded. He immediately sat down at the rickety wooden table, spread out paper by the light of the oil lamp, and began to write furiously.

Li Yunlong, with his hands behind his back, continued pacing in the cave, his mind racing, calculating every detail such as the ambush location, troop deployment, and retreat route. The seemingly rough and even somewhat greedy excitement he displayed when facing He Damin during the day was gone from his face; replaced by a seasoned and ruthless veteran.

That night, Zhao Jia Yu was destined to be sleepless. Besides the lights in the regimental headquarters' cave dwelling, many courtyards in the village were also quietly bustling with activity. Whispers, light footsteps, the rustling of moving items… under the cover of darkness, a silent evacuation and preparation for war was proceeding tensely yet orderly. Meanwhile, "Mr. He," who had been arranged to rest in a secluded cave dwelling in the village—a location "just right" for surveillance—seemed completely unaware of everything, his breathing steady as if he were already sound asleep.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, a layer of milky-white chill still lingered in the mountain valley.

He Damin pushed open the wooden door of the cave dwelling and came out. He was still wearing that indigo-blue coarse cotton-padded jacket, with a dusty satchel slung over his shoulder. Li Yunlong and Zhao Gang were already waiting outside the courtyard, both with smiles on their faces, but the meanings behind those smiles were worlds apart.

"Mr. He, how was your rest? We're sorry to have troubled you in this poor place." Li Yunlong greeted him warmly and patted He Damin's shoulder with considerable force.

"Very good, thank you for your hospitality, Commander Li and Political Commissar Zhao." He Damin nodded slightly, his face expressionless, still calm and even somewhat wooden. He wasn't used to this kind of small talk and just wanted to finish the "farewell" social part as soon as possible.

"Mr. He, are you leaving already? Why not stay a couple more days? Old Li would like to chat with you a little longer!" Li Yunlong "enthusiastically" tried to persuade him to stay.

"No, I still have some things to take care of," He Damin replied briefly, and walked towards the village entrance. Li Yunlong and Zhao Gang "enthusiastically" accompanied him as he saw him off.

Arriving at the old locust tree at the village entrance, the truck loaded with weapons still stood quietly behind the cliff. He Damin walked to the truck's cab and opened the somewhat warped door. He didn't get in immediately, but instead, with his back to Li Yunlong and Zhao Gang, calmly took off his coarse cotton-padded jacket and trousers, revealing the crisp Japanese major's uniform underneath. In the cold morning wind, the navy blue woolen fabric and the gold stars on the collar insignia stood out starkly.

He carefully fastened each brass button, straightened the brim of his military cap, rolled up his civilian clothes, and casually stuffed them into the driver's cab. The whole process was natural and smooth, as if he were just changing an overcoat, completely unaware of the two gazes behind him that suddenly became incredibly complex—one was Li Yunlong's sharp scrutiny, "Just as I thought," "I guessed right," and the other was Zhao Gang's gaze, a mixture of shock, realization, and even deeper worry.

After changing his clothes, He Damin turned around, his face still expressionless. He nodded to Li Yunlong and Zhao Gang, his tone flat: "Commander Li, Political Commissar Zhao, farewell. I hope we can cooperate happily next time." He had no idea that his attire as a Japanese officer had already cemented his identity as a "Japanese spy" in their eyes, nor did he realize how ironic his words "please cooperate happily" sounded.

"Take care, Mr. He! Have a safe journey! We... will meet again!" Li Yunlong's smile grew even brighter as he waved, his voice booming, but his eyes were as deep as a still pool.

He Damin said no more, opened the car door, and got into the driver's seat. The engine started, the truck growled, and it slowly turned around, heading out of the mountains along the bumpy road it had come from. A cloud of dust billowed up behind it.

Only after the truck disappeared from sight did Li Yunlong's smile vanish instantly, replaced by a cold and serious expression. He waved to the side, and Wei Dayong, who had been lying in ambush in the nearby bushes, immediately led three elite soldiers out like cheetahs.

"Monk, follow them according to plan! Remember, it's better to lose them than to be exposed!" Li Yunlong ordered in a low voice.

"Yes, Commander! Don't worry!" Wei Dayong clasped his hands in a fist salute, and the group immediately followed along the mountain path, using the terrain as cover, and quietly took their place.

Li Yunlong and Zhao Gang stood under the old locust tree, gazing in the direction the truck had gone, silent for a long time. A cold wind swept by, ruffling the hems of their faded military uniforms.

"Old Li, it seems... your judgment was correct." Zhao Gang sighed, his tone heavy.

"Hmph, those little devils think they can fool me with their tricks?" Li Yunlong sneered, turned, and strode towards the village, shouting as he went, "Messenger! Notify all battalions and companies to take ambush positions according to the pre-arranged plan! Check weapons, load bullets! Have all the villagers evacuated? One more time! Hurry!"

The entire Zhao Jia Yu village instantly sprang into action, like a tightly wound machine. The soldiers silently took up their ambush positions, their dark gun barrels pointing towards the only road outside the village. The village was already deserted, with only some belongings left behind, looking particularly desolate in the cold wind.

He Damin drove along the rugged mountain road. He was in a good mood, feeling that although the contact had been somewhat awkward (mainly in terms of social aspects), the outcome was as expected. The Independent Regiment had accepted the weapons and had tentatively accepted the "antiques for arms" cooperation model. He was even considering whether he could bring some rare medicines like penicillin next time he came.

He was completely unaware that he, an arms dealer whose concise and direct manner stemmed from social anxiety, had been interpreted and calculated by Li Yunlong as a cunning and treacherous Japanese spy, intending to lure out the enemy. He was even more unaware that his act of changing into a Japanese military uniform upon leaving (simply for convenience) had become irrefutable evidence of his true intentions in the eyes of the other side.

As he drove, he thought about his upcoming itinerary. Perhaps he should find a place to store the truck in his storage space and use a more covert method of operation.

Several miles behind him, Wei Dayong and his men, like the most patient shadows, relentlessly pursued him through the complex terrain. In Zhao Jia Yu, an ambush, relying on the weapons he had "sent" and aimed at a possible "Japanese retaliation," was already imminent.

He Damin thought he had completed a mutually beneficial transaction, unaware that he had already become a pawn of unknown nature on someone else's chessboard, requiring close vigilance. This is probably the consequence of "social anxiety" meeting "cunning shrewdness"—being sold out, he might still be silently counting how many antiques he should get in the next transaction.