Courtyard House: A Veteran Returns Home and Becomes a Father

Two years have passed in the blink of an eye.

1953, October.

Winter on the Korean Peninsula is still as cold as a knife without a sheath.

The war has entered its third year. The large-scale, mobile warfare that once involved tens or hundreds of thousands of soldiers has long since become a topic of conversation among veterans after a few drinks.

Instead, a battle line stretching hundreds of kilometers, winding like a centipede.

Barbed wire, trenches, bunkers, snipers.

That's the whole story of the stalemate phase.

Like two giant beasts chained together, separated by an abyss called the "38th Parallel," the two sides confronted each other, panting, and relentlessly reaping each other's lives through small-scale clashes and sniper fire.

There were no large-scale battles, but the names on the death list were increasing every day.

Today a platoon leader dies, tomorrow two new recruits will die.

Here, life is quantified into the coldest numbers.

At this moment, Su Mo was no longer the acting leader he once was.

In just two years, thanks to the formidable reputation he earned in the Battle of Flying Tiger Mountain, and the extraordinary achievements he made in subsequent battles with his tactical thinking ahead of his time and his almost "precognitive" intelligence judgment, he had become the youngest division commander in the 38th Army.

In the past two years, Su Mo has reduced his use of the space because his previous use exposed too much of his abilities, and he was afraid of being kidnapped and dissected.

At this moment, he was standing in a forward observation post named "Shangganling," holding binoculars and staring expressionlessly at the Allied positions opposite him.

It was just as desolate there, with only the occasional wisps of smoke rising from chimneys and the barbed wire reflecting the cold winter sun, proving that it was not a dead place.

"Commander, it's time to go back. It's windy here."

Political Commissar Wang Wei came up and draped a thick military overcoat over his shoulders. Two years had etched their marks on his face, but his gaze towards Su Mo was still full of trust and a hint of barely perceptible worry.

"Another person has died."

Su Mo put down the binoculars, his voice soft but carrying an unyielding weariness.

Wang Wei fell silent.

Just now, a new recruit responsible for delivering food to the front lines was shot in the head by an enemy sniper when he was only ten meters away from the trench.

The bullet pierced precisely through the gap in his helmet.

This is the seventh soldier to die this week from the same sniper rifle.

"The negotiations are still ongoing." Wang Wei sighed. "The higher-ups' message is to exercise restraint as much as possible, avoid provoking large-scale conflicts, and prioritize the overall negotiation outcome."

"Restraint?" A cold smile curled at the corner of Su Mo's lips. "So you're just telling us to watch our soldiers be harvested like wheat, crop after crop?"

"People die every day, dying meaninglessly in this endless, damned tug-of-war. Political Commissar Wang, if this battle continues like this, even if we win in the end, how many of us will be able to go home alive?"

Wang Wei was unable to answer.

This was also a huge weight on his mind.

Su Mo didn't say anything more, turned around and walked down from the observation post.

into the night.

In the division headquarters command post, Su Mo stared at the huge military map on the wall, remaining silent for a long time.

Over two years, he used the resources in the space and his knowledge that was ahead of his time to build a special team that was completely loyal to him.

Twenty people.

Each one of them was an elite veteran who had crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood like Flying Tiger Mountain.

Each of them had been saved by Su Mo's "miracle medicine" and "spiritual spring" to some extent, and in their hearts, Su Mo was an omnipotent god.

In the past two years, this squad, which Su Mo named "Ghost," has carried out dozens of secret missions under his leadership. Infiltration, assassination, decapitation, intelligence gathering... they are like a group of death gods walking in the darkness, and every move they make inevitably brings heavy blows to the enemy.

It was these little-known military achievements that made Su Mo's path to promotion so smooth.

But Su Mo knew very well that minor skirmishes could not change the overall situation of the battle.

The stalemate at the negotiating table stems from the balance of power on the battlefield.

To make the Americans lower their proud heads, we must deliver a devastating blow on the battlefield that will leave them heartbroken and filled with fear.

We must break their backbone with an incredible victory!

A crazy plan had been swirling in his mind for a long time, and now it was finally time to put it into action.

He called his bodyguard.

"Notify all members of the 'Ghost' squad to assemble at the 'usual location' in ten minutes."

"yes!"

Behind the division headquarters, in a hidden cave disguised as an ammunition depot.

The twenty members of the "Ghost" squad were already fully armed and waiting quietly.

They wore special operations uniforms that Su Mo had taken out from his spatial storage—uniforms that were impossible to find in this era—over which were ordinary uniforms of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army. The weapons they carried were mostly American-made equipment personally modified by Su Mo, far exceeding conventional standards in range, accuracy, and stability.

Upon seeing Su Mo walk in, the twenty people stood at attention in unison, their eyes filled with fervor and determination.

"Please sit down."

Su Mo waved his hand and got straight to the point.

"Brothers, I don't want to waste any more time on this damned battle."

He walked to a map, picked up a baton, and pointed to a point on the map that was located nearly 100 kilometers behind the enemy's front line.

That place is Seoul.

"According to my intelligence, three days from now, UN Commander-in-Chief Clark will convene a high-level military meeting at a secret villa near Seoul. Attendees will include the commander of the US Eighth Army and several key South Korean generals."

Su Mo's voice wasn't loud, but it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop in the cave.

Everyone held their breath; they knew the division commander was about to pull off something big.

"My plan is very simple." Su Mo tapped the red dot on the villa heavily with his baton.

"Beheading."

"We must be like the sharpest scalpel, piercing through the enemy's layers of defenses and precisely stabbing into their heart! We must completely shatter their command system! And incidentally, we can bring back a few prisoners as well."

"If this operation succeeds, the enemy's frontline troops will be plunged into weeks of command chaos. Then, when we launch a full-scale counter-offensive, we'll have the opportunity to drive them completely back into the sea!"

"This war can end sooner."

After hearing Su Mo's plan, even these fierce soldiers who had long since disregarded life and death couldn't help but gasp in shock.

Deep behind enemy lines, nearly 100 kilometers away, in the heart of the heavily guarded enemy territory, assassinated the enemy's highest commander.

This isn't just crazy, this is myth.

"Commander, this...this isn't an order, is it?" The youngest soldier in the squad, a scout nicknamed "Monkey," asked uncertainly.

Su Mo shook his head, his gaze sweeping over everyone.

"This is not an order."

"The military and the Volunteer Army Headquarters will never approve such a crazy plan with almost zero chance of success."

"This operation is my personal decision. Therefore, I do not require any of you to participate. Those who wish to withdraw can leave now. I guarantee that no one will hold you accountable, and you will remain heroes of the 335th Division."

The cave was deathly silent.

No one moved.

The first to break the silence was Wang Erniu. He was no longer the simple, honest farm boy he once was; two years of hardship had made him shrewd and silent.

He just grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

"Commander, you gave me my life. Wherever you go, I will go. Even if it's not Seoul, I'll follow you to Washington."

"Yes! Following our commander, even going to hell would be worth it!"

"Fuck him!"

Count me in!

Of the twenty people, not one backed down.

Their answer was exactly what Su Mo had expected.

"Alright!" Su Mo's eyes welled up with tears. He nodded emphatically. "Since you're all fearless, now, listen to my instructions!"

Operation codename: "Godslayer!"

"We'll set off at midnight tonight!"

Midnight, the moon is dark and the wind is high.

Twenty-one dark figures, like true ghosts, silently left the camp and disappeared into the vast night.

Their division commander, Su Mo, took off his general's uniform, which symbolized honor and responsibility, and put on the most ordinary soldier's uniform.

Tonight, he is not a teacher.

He was just the captain of the "Ghost" squad.

One, an avenger who is going to put an end to this war.

(There may be many things to criticize regarding the descriptions of the war. This is not the author's intention. Due to the censorship mechanism, much of what I wrote could not pass the review and had to be cut. I quickly moved on to the courtyard storyline. Each review takes an hour, and each chapter usually needs to be revised three times. It takes three hours to publish a single chapter. I was forced to go directly to the courtyard storyline. Rest assured, the courtyard storyline is absolutely wonderful.)