Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The bells of Ping'an County tolled for the last time in an unprecedented and devastating manner. The shell, fired from the only remaining operational Type 92 infantry gun of the Independent Regiment's artillery company, whistled mournfully and struck precisely the middle section of the city's central bell tower. An orange-red fireball expanded violently across the ancient brick and stone structure, followed by a deafening explosion and a heart-wrenching crash as bricks, beams, and timbers crumbled and collapsed! Smoke, splinters of wood, and bricks, like volcanic ash, shot into the sky and then fell in a flurry, instantly engulfing the area in a deathly dust.

The clock tower, along with Yamamoto Ichiki's final madness, Xiuqin's stubborn red, and that ugly Japanese flag, collapsed amidst violent tremors and roars, turning into a huge pile of rubble, emitting blue smoke and mixed with blood, flesh, and bricks.

The entire battlefield seemed to have been paused. Gunfire, shouts of battle, even the sound of the wind vanished in that instant. The Eighth Route Army soldiers who had stormed into the city, as well as the remaining Japanese soldiers who had retreated to their core fortifications, all involuntarily looked up at the rising column of smoke, their faces filled with shock, bewilderment, and... an indescribable sorrow.

Li Yunlong remained holding the binoculars, his arm stiff as stone. Through the binoculars, all he could see was swirling dust and smoke. His face was expressionless, only his lips were pressed into a bloodless, straight line, and the muscles in his cheeks twitched uncontrollably. He slowly lowered the binoculars, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. He didn't speak, didn't even glance at the ruins again. He simply turned abruptly and, in a hoarse, almost broken voice, issued a command to the equally silent command post personnel behind him, and the stunned soldiers around him, like the low growl of a wounded beast:

"What are you all standing there for?! Kill them all! Leave no one alive!!"

This roar, like a spark thrown into boiling oil, instantly ignited the emotions that had been suppressed to the extreme on the battlefield!

"Kill them all!!! Avenge my sister-in-law!!!"

"Slaughter these sons of bitches—!!!"

All the grief, all the anger, all the pent-up frustration erupted at this moment! The surviving Eighth Route Army soldiers, like a pride of enraged lions, their eyes red, roared with deafening fury as they launched a final, and most frenzied, assault on the core areas held by the Japanese, including their last strongholds: command posts, warehouses, and barracks! Bayonets clashed, grenades cleared the way, and machine guns raged! There were no tactics, only the most primal, life-or-death slaughter!

The Japanese soldiers, witnessing their commander Yamamoto Ichiki perish in the clock tower along with his last "bargaining chip," saw their already crumbling morale completely collapse. The remaining resistance was quickly overwhelmed and crushed by this torrent of revenge.

The battle ended completely less than an hour after the clock tower collapsed.

Ping'an County, a city that the Japanese had cultivated in northwestern Shanxi for many years and considered an important stronghold, saw the Eighth Route Army's flag raised for the first and last time. However, this flag, hastily dyed from gray military uniform cloth and blackened by gunpowder smoke, fluttered heavily in the cold wind, thick with the stench of blood and acrid smoke, appearing particularly somber.

Li Yunlong trudged through the rubble and pools of blood that hadn't quite congealed, entering the Japanese command post compound in the city center. The compound was equally chaotic, with Japanese corpses lying scattered everywhere. He didn't look at them, but went straight to the backyard.

The moment he pushed open that heavy iron door, even though his heart had long been hardened by mountains of corpses and seas of blood and the trials of today, his pupils suddenly contracted and his breath caught in his throat.

Before them lay a massive, interconnected Japanese warehouse comprised of several sturdy storage units. The interior space was far more astonishing than it appeared from the outside. And at this moment, this enormous space was crammed full of all sorts of supplies, stretching almost to the horizon!

First, there were weapons and ammunition, piled up like small mountains!

Near the entrance were neatly stacked wooden crates. Prying open the crates revealed gleaming yellow rifle, machine gun, and pistol bullets, reflecting an alluring yet dangerous light under the sunlight streaming through the broken skylight. Next to the ammunition crates were bundles of unopened Type 38 rifles, their dark barrels densely packed together. Further in were light and heavy machine guns, grenade launchers, mortars, and even several Type 92 infantry guns and mountain guns, quietly crouching in a corner, their protective oil still damp. Grenade boxes, infantry mines, and explosive charges… all neatly categorized and piled high.

Next up is the clothing and fabric section.

Brand-new Japanese winter and summer uniforms, overcoats, leather shoes, and boots were neatly bundled and piled up, filling most of the warehouse. Next to them were bundles of military canvas, khaki cloth, woolen fabric, and even a considerable amount of white cotton cloth, clearly intended for making bandages or underwear. For the Eighth Route Army, who were chronically short of clothing and whose soldiers often wore patched-up single layers of clothing, these items were just as tempting as weapons.

On the other side were oilseeds and grains.

Gasoline and diesel drums were piled up like a city wall, and the air was filled with a faint smell of fuel. Next to them were mountains of rice, flour, compressed biscuits, and canned goods (meat, fish, and fruit), many of which were printed with Japanese. These were the hard currencies that sustained the troops' continued operations and kept the people in the base areas alive.

Further inside are communication and transportation equipment.

Brand-new radios, hand-cranked generators, telephone exchanges, bundles of telephone wire... lay quietly in wooden crates. In one corner of the warehouse, several Type 95 military trucks and a dozen or so sidecar motorcycles were even neatly parked, covered in dust but appearing well-maintained. With these, the troops' mobility and communication capabilities would experience a qualitative leap.

However, what shocked and puzzled Li Yunlong the most was the area at the deepest part of the warehouse.

Instead of storing regular supplies, thick tarpaulins covered massive, oddly shaped metal objects. Li Yunlong walked over, lifted a corner of the tarpaulin, and the cold gleam of metal pierced his eyes. There were lathes, milling machines, drilling machines, and other machines whose names he couldn't recall, but which were clearly complex and precise in structure! Some of the equipment had Japanese labels, bearing inscriptions like "Taiyuan Ordnance Factory" and "Made in [Year] of Showa." Scattered nearby were wooden crates containing various types of alloy cutting tools, precision measuring instruments, gears, bearings, and coils of raw materials such as steel wire and copper pipes.

"This...this is..." The chief of staff behind Li Yunlong, as well as several battalion commanders who rushed over upon hearing the news, were all dumbfounded. They recognized guns and cannons, and they recognized grain and cloth, but what were these heavy "iron lumps" for?

Li Yunlong crouched down and wiped the dust off a lathe guide rail with his fingers, revealing a smooth, mirror-like metal surface underneath. Although he didn't understand industry, his intuition told him that these things were probably more precious and more...irresistible than guns and cannons.

"Commander, this...this looks like a machine for making guns and cannons!" A soldier who had once worked as a day laborer at the Taiyuan Arsenal came over to take a closer look and said uncertainly.

"Machinery for making guns and cannons?" Li Yunlong's heart skipped a beat. He remembered that Brigade Commander Chen had mentioned that the Japanese might be transferring some important industrial equipment to Northeast China to strengthen the Kwantung Army's military industrial capabilities. Could it be that this batch of equipment was intended to be transported from the Taiyuan Arsenal to Northeast China, and was temporarily stored in Ping'an County along the way? And now, it had run into Li Yunlong's attack on the county town, and they were all stuck here!

This thought made Li Yunlong's heart pound, not with excitement, but with anxiety.

He stood up and looked around the huge warehouse filled with supplies that would make any army envious, but there was no joy on his face. Instead, his brows furrowed more and more.

"Commander, we're rich now! So much good stuff!" the battalion commander exclaimed excitedly, his eyes shining as he stared at the brand-new machine guns and crates of canned goods.

"Send? Send my ass!" Li Yunlong whirled around, glared at him, his voice hoarse and stern. "Look at this warehouse full of stuff! And look outside!"

Following the direction he pointed, through the broken door of the warehouse, everyone could see the still-lingering smoke and the ruins left by the ravages of war outside.

"By capturing Ping'an County, I've stirred up a hornet's nest! Yamamoto Ichiki is dead, and the Takeno Regiment is wiped out, but will the Japanese let this go? Shinotsuka Yoshio in Taiyuan is probably jumping up and down in a panic! In less than two days, no, maybe tomorrow, the Japanese reinforcements, planes and artillery, will come crashing down like a tidal wave! With our small force, plus these newly assembled ragtag troops, do you think we can hold this isolated city?"

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over their heads, instantly sobering the battalion commanders who had been blinded by victory and immediate wealth. Yes, Ping'an County had been captured, but they had also become the target of everyone's attacks, exposed to the potential counterattack of the main Japanese force. With their hastily assembled troops and rudimentary fortifications (most of which had been destroyed during the siege), it was virtually impossible to hold this strategically vital location.

"Then... Commander, what do we do? We finally managed to capture it..." the Second Battalion Commander asked unwillingly.

"What do we do?" Li Yunlong took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His gaze swept over the warehouse full of supplies again, especially the heavy machine tools. "Move! Move everything you can! Not a single grain of rice, not a single bullet, not a single piece of cloth can be left for the Japanese!"

He quickly issued the order, his voice firm and decisive:

"First Battalion! Immediately organize all able-bodied soldiers, militiamen, and city residents. Mobilize everyone who can carry anything! Start by moving food, ammunition, clothing, and fuel! Use horse-drawn carts, donkey carts, wheelbarrows, and carry things on your backs and shoulders! Prioritize transporting what you can use immediately!"

"Second Battalion! Take charge of those trucks and motorcycles! Check the fuel levels. For those that can be driven, immediately organize drivers (if there aren't any, find them from among the captured puppet troops, or let soldiers who know how to drive do it), load them with essential supplies, and transport them out first! For those that can't be driven, remove the tires and take away the key parts!"

"Third Battalion and Reserves! Keep a close watch on all directions outside the city! Set up sentry posts twenty li outwards! Report immediately if you spot any Japanese troops! Buy time for the evacuation!"

"Chief of Staff! Take a few men and inventory these lumps of iron (machine tools). See which ones are most important and which ones can be disassembled and moved! Find ropes, find levers, even if you have to break them down into parts, get them out of here! This stuff is more valuable than guns and cannons!"

At the order, the entire Ping'an County immediately shifted from combat readiness to an unprecedented, race-against-time "mass relocation" operation. Soldiers, disregarding rest and the need to clean up the battlefield or bury their fallen comrades (only simple gathering was possible), immediately threw themselves into the moving work. The townspeople, upon learning of the Eighth Route Army's plight and that the Japanese supplies would fall into enemy hands if not removed, also erupted in immense enthusiasm. Men, women, and even young children joined the moving efforts. Horse-drawn carts, oxcarts, donkey carts, and wheelbarrows were all requisitioned; the streets were bustling with activity, a constant flow of people, a cacophony of shouts in various accents, the clatter of wheels, and heavy breathing.

Grain and cloth were carried out of the warehouse in sacks and bundles and loaded onto vehicles; ammunition boxes were passed around carefully but quickly; soldiers wore their brand-new military overcoats directly or tied them up and carried them on their backs; gasoline drums were rolled onto horse-drawn carts, and canned goods boxes were stacked high...

Trucks and motorcycles that could be started were immediately crammed with the heaviest supplies (such as ammunition and machine tool parts), and driven by soldiers or temporarily recruited drivers, they belched black smoke and wobbled out of the city gates, heading towards pre-designated secret transfer points such as Black Cloud Ridge. Vehicles that could not be driven were quickly "dismembered," with key components such as tires, engines, and batteries removed and carried away by mules and horses.

The most difficult task was undoubtedly the heavy machine tools. Soldiers and strong civilians, chanting slogans, painstakingly moved them from their bases using thick ropes and wooden levers, inch by inch, out of the warehouse, loading them onto temporarily reinforced, oversized horse-drawn carts, or disassembling them into smaller parts. Sweat mixed with grease, rising in the cold air like white steam. Every step was exceptionally difficult, but no one complained, because they all knew that their commander had said these things were more important than their lives!

Li Yunlong spun around like a top, shuttling between the warehouse, the city gate, and the command post. His voice was completely hoarse from shouting, and he could only give orders with his sharp eyes and simple hand gestures. He kept asking about the progress of the moving work, urging them to speed up, while keeping a close eye on the messages sent back by the scouts outside the city.

Time passed second by second. As the sun set, it dyed Ping'an County a blood-red hue, reflecting the busy and chaotic city.

The warehouse was visibly becoming emptier. The grain mountain had shrunk, a large area of ​​the ammunition depot was empty, most of the cloth and clothing had been moved away, many of the fuel drums were gone, and the trucks and motorcycles were just empty shells... Only the heaviest machine tools, a few of the largest ones, remained, which were simply too difficult to move in a short time.

"Commander! The Second Battalion reports that the vanguard of the Japanese army has been spotted thirty miles to the west! It's about the size of a company, equipped with vehicles and cavalry, and they're moving very fast!" The communications soldier ran up breathlessly to report.

Li Yunlong's heart tightened; he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

He glanced one last time at the small amount of grains that were left in the warehouse that he couldn't take with him, some damaged weapon parts, and the heavy machine tool bases that were impossible to move. A trace of regret flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a resolute determination.

"Order! Stop moving immediately! All personnel and vehicles, along with the supplies already moved, evacuate along the predetermined route! Rear guards, plant explosives and incendiary devices at the warehouses, city gates, and on the bases of trucks and machine tools that can't be taken! In ten minutes, set them on fire! Blow them up! Burn them! We won't leave the Japanese a single screw that we can't take!"

As the last transport team hastily fled the city, massive explosions and towering flames erupted once again within Ping'an County. This time, it wasn't for attack, but for destruction, to leave no valuable supplies for the pursuers.

Li Yunlong, mounted on his horse, glanced back one last time at the city that was gradually blurring in the firelight and twilight. There lay the burial place of his newlywed wife, the blood shed by the Independent Regiment and countless comrades, and the flame he had lit himself, a symbol of utter surrender.

He felt no joy of victory, only a heavy weariness and a colder, more resilient hatred and determination.

"Go!" he roared, turned his horse around, and joined the surging tide of evacuation, galloping towards the depths of the mountains, towards the next unknown battlefield, without looking back.

Behind them, the firelight of Ping'an County illuminated the night sky over northwestern Shanxi.