Courtyard Houses: Longevity Since the War of Resistance

The ambulance carrying Lao Zhao and the other two drove into the special observation area in the backyard of the Hongkou Army Hospital.

It was a detached small building with iron bars on the windows and military police standing guard at the entrance. I, Director Matsumoto, personally supervised the handover of the experimental subjects.

Medical staff took the three people to a pre-prepared isolation ward on the second floor.

There were three beds in the ward, clean sheets and blankets, and even a bathroom. "Give them a full check-up, clean their wounds, and give them nutritional supplements," I ordered the doctor in charge.

"I need them to be in the best possible condition for the experiment, and the baseline data cannot be biased."

"Hi!" the doctor replied with a bow.

Back in the dean's office, I closed the door, leaned back in my chair, and completed the first step.

Over the next few days, under the pretext of needing accurate baseline data, the hospital provided Lao Zhao and his family with relatively good food and basic medical care.

The wounds were cleaned and bandaged, and the three of them were given porridge, steamed buns, and meat soup every day. Their complexions recovered at a visible speed.

Time is of the essence, and every extra day increases the risk. But they must at least regain some of their strength to carry out the next phase of the plan.

On the third night, after 11 p.m., most of the hospital lights were turned off, leaving only the dim nightlights in the corridors.

I changed into a white coat, put on a mask and surgical cap, and carrying the medical record folder, I walked towards the special observation area. At the ward entrance, two military police officers stood guard with guns. When they saw me coming, they stood at attention and saluted.

I nodded slightly and said in R language, "Routine night check, record the physiological data of the experimental subjects."

The military police had no suspicion and made way for me. I pushed the door open and gently closed it behind me.

There were two military police officers in the ward. Old Zhao was lying on the bed by the window, seemingly asleep, while the other two young comrades were on two other beds, also with their eyes closed. But I could sense that the moment I entered, all three of them had a very subtle change in their breathing; they weren't asleep at all, remaining highly vigilant.

Without saying a word, he walked to Old Zhao's bedside.

His eyes were closed, but the eyeballs beneath his eyelids were moving slightly. I leaned down and, under the guise of adjusting the pillow, quickly slipped a folded piece of paper into the pillow.

Then I straightened up and checked the IV needle in his hand again. After doing all that, I said to the military police in the ward, "Keep an eye on them."

"Hi!"

Stepping out of the small building, the night breeze was slightly cool.

The note contained only one sentence: "Willows on the bank, spring breeze and summer rain."

This is the first half of the highest-level coded communication between headquarters and Lao Zhao, which the brigade commander personally told me before we set off.

Use it and then discard it.

The next day, everything was as usual: making rounds at the hospital, holding meetings, and throwing tantrums.

As they passed through the special observation area, Lao Zhao took a quick look from afar and should have already seen the note and understood its meaning. All that was left was to wait for the most opportune moment.

The opportunity arrived two nights later.

Old Zhao and the others have basically recovered their physical condition. Although it's not perfect, they at least have the ability to move and react.

As night fell, dark clouds gathered and a muffled rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. It was 11 p.m., the time for the changing of the guard.

He was still dressed as a doctor, pretending to be on patrol. Taking advantage of the shift change of the four new military police officers inside and outside the ward, he used both hands to slash them, one slash at a time, a true one-hit wonder. They couldn't withstand Riki-Oh's strength at all, and they all died instantly.

The four military police officers were quickly placed into the system space. The system space could not contain living beings, but the four of them were absolutely dead.

He opened the door, and without saying a word, quickly went to Old Zhao's bedside and unlocked the leather shackles binding his hands and feet.

"Willows by the riverbank, spring breeze, summer rain"

"Maple Bridge at Night, Autumn Frost, Winter Snow"

"I've taken care of the guards. Tonight, most areas of the hospital are short-staffed, so this is our only chance," I continued. "You must fake your deaths and leave. See those three bags in the corner?" I pointed to the thick canvas body bags with the hospital logo that had been placed in the corner beforehand.

"You go inside, and I'll take you out in an ambulance under the pretext of disposing of the remains of a failed experiment. Only corpses are the easiest to pass inspection."

Old Zhao glanced at the two young comrades, and the three of them exchanged glances. Without hesitation, they nodded emphatically.

"Take action." I waved my hand.

The three of them quickly crawled into the body bags. I swiftly closed the bags to make them appear sealed, then placed one in each hand onto the cart.

Fortunately, we didn't encounter many people along the way. After arriving at the building, we opened the ambulance that had been prepared in advance, put the bag into the car, jumped into the driver's seat, and started the car.

The car slowly drove towards the hospital gate.

The rain started to fall, large raindrops pattering against the car windows. The guard on duty at the gate, seeing it was a hospital ambulance and then Dr. Matsumoto's face in the driver's seat, quickly opened the gate, but still asked the usual question: "Dr. Matsumoto, why are you going out so late? It's raining heavily."

I rolled down the car window, my face showing impatience: "We've processed a few test subjects; they need to be sent to the incinerator in the suburbs immediately. The weather's bad, so there might be delays on the way. Let's get there as soon as possible."

The guard glanced at the direction of the carriage, then at me. He wanted to ask why I was going in person, but then he remembered the rumors of his bad temper and could only say, "Director, you've had a hard time. Please drive carefully."

"Okay." I closed the car window and stepped on the gas.

The ambulance drove out of the hospital and merged into the empty streets in the early morning rain. With Director Matsumoto's identification and the specially marked vehicle, it passed through two Japanese military night checkpoints in succession.

When the soldiers questioned me, they saw my identification and face, and when they heard that the mission was to handle special medical waste, they just did a quick check and let me go. No one dared to ask to open the carriage to check the bodies.

The car headed northwest, towards the mass graves and crematoriums on the outskirts of the city. As it moved further away from the city center, the surrounding R military checkpoints became increasingly sparse.

Finally, after driving for more than an hour, completely leaving the heavily fortified area of ​​the R army and entering a desolate suburb, we turned the car onto a secluded dirt road and stopped beside a grove of trees.

Turn off the engine, get out of the car, open the carriage door, and pull open the body bag.

"Come out, you're safe now."

Old Zhao and his two companions staggered out, breathing in the damp but free air outside.

I handed him a canvas bag that I had prepared beforehand: "Inside are clean clothes, some money, and three tickets for the ferry to Hong Kong tonight. The ferry is the Taikoo ship of the Y country company, departing at four in the morning. You still have time."

Old Zhao took the bag, quickly glanced at it, then looked up at me with a complicated expression: "Comrade, you..."

"My mission is simply to rescue you and get you safely out of Shanghai," I interrupted him calmly. "Once we get to Hong Kong, I'm confident you, Lao Zhao, can handle contacting the organization and getting back. There are still five small gold bars and some US dollars in the bag; that should be enough."

Old Zhao paused for a moment, then nodded emphatically: "Comrade, take care."

"There's one more thing," I said, looking him in the eye, "I need the latest list and contact information for all intelligence personnel, transportation stations, and backup contact points in Shanghai."

Without the slightest hesitation, Lao Zhao had absolute trust in the headquarters envoy who had given the highest code and had just rescued them from the den of iniquity. He whispered in my ear for about two minutes.

"I've got it. You should hurry on. Walk east along this road for two miles. There's an abandoned melon shed. Change your clothes there, and then go to the dock. Don't look back."

Old Zhao gave me another long look, as if trying to memorize my figure, then turned and waved to the two young comrades: "Let's go!"

The three quickly disappeared into the misty rain and the shadows of the woods.

I stood there until they were safe before turning around and getting into the car, but I didn't drive back to the city center. Instead, I drove to the plane tree near Jing'an Temple Road, where we had made our promise.

I put seven fresh sycamore leaves into the tree hole that was 1.2 meters above the ground.

The next day at 4 PM, on the second floor of Le Cui Yuan Tea House.

Nightingale arrived before me, and the tea in front of her had already gone cold. Seeing me sit down, her eyes were filled with anxiety and worry.

I didn't say anything, but took out the letter that Lao Zhao had asked me to pass on from my pocket and pushed it in front of her.

Nightingale's hands trembled slightly as she picked up the tin box and opened it. Inside was a small note with Old Zhao's familiar, slightly messy handwriting: "All is well, don't worry. Take care of yourself, await our meeting."

The nightingale stared at those eight words for a long time.

Her eyes reddened, she pursed her lips, and tried to hold back her emotions, but a single tear still silently slid down and dripped onto the table. She quickly wiped it away with her sleeve, carefully folded the note back up, and clutched it tightly in her palm, as if it were a treasure she had lost and found again.

Old Zhao was not only her superior, but also her guide and teacher as she entered this clandestine front, teaching her codes, rendezvous, and disguises step by step. Walking on the edge of a knife, this bond of teacher, friend, and comradeship was far from ordinary.

"He...he really..." Her voice choked with emotion.

"We're safe now," I said confidently. "We're at sea now and will be in Hong Kong soon."

The nightingale took a deep breath, and when she looked up again, the tears in her eyes had been replaced by a resolute light.

"What's next? What do we need my cooperation with?"

I shook my head, my tone serious: "From now on, your entire Shanghai network must remain completely silent and lie low."

She frowned slightly: "Complete silence? But there's so much work to be done..."

"You'll be allowed to begin, but not now. What you need to do now is sink like stones. No matter what rumors you hear or what noises you see, don't panic, don't try to contact anyone to confirm, and don't take any rescue action. Understand?"

Nightingale's expression turned serious; she clearly realized the gravity of the situation.

"I understand. We'll act as if we never existed."

"Very good." I nodded. "Protect yourself, and protect everyone on your line."

After saying that, I got up, put down the money for the tea, and left the teahouse.

Stepping outside, the afternoon sun was a bit too bright.

The sunlight is blinding me, isn't it?!

It's so hot, isn't it?!

There was water in your tea just now, right?!

There were stairs when I went downstairs just now, right?!

Hmph, you're bullying me, aren't you?!

Then I will... take revenge on the Japanese devils!!!