Courtyard Houses: Longevity Since the War of Resistance

After the daytime assembly and training, I had a brief chat with all the team members, mainly the new ones. I asked their names, where they were from, their special skills, and how well they were adapting. They were all very energetic, and their eyes held not only respect but also a strong desire to prove themselves.

Good.

But I could also sense that those twelve old buddies were all holding back their words. Especially when the name change was announced, Lei Dachui, being so straightforward, almost blurted it out on the spot, but Song Jiahao next to him secretly pulled him back.

Training continued as usual in the afternoon, but I could tell they were a bit distracted.

It was just getting dark after dinner.

I was sitting in my simple barracks, reading a briefing on the enemy situation in North China sent by the brigade headquarters by the light of an oil lamp, when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

The door opened, and Ye Qiao stood outside, holding an enamel mug that was steaming. Behind her, there were about a dozen figures, some squatting and some standing, almost blocking the doorway completely.

I looked up and saw, well, twelve of them, not one missing.

Lei Dachui squeezed to the front, his face flushed. Song Jiahao peeked around. Lu Yuan leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Liu Hou squatted by the threshold, unconsciously playing with a small knife. Lu Guang pushed up his glasses. Qian Lai rubbed his hands. Leng Xing stood in the shadows with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Zheng Dapao scratched the back of his head. Jia Zhen tilted his ear, as if listening to distant noises. Lin Zhi and Bai Su stood a little further away, but their eyes were also fixed on me.

"Captain," Ye Qiao spoke first, her voice relatively calm, "the others want to talk to you."

"Let's chat, come in and sit down, what are you standing at the door for?" I put down the briefing and pointed to the few broken stools and the earthen bed in the room.

A dozen or so people rushed in, filling the small room in no time. Lei Dachui plopped down on the ground, not caring about the dirt. The others also found places to sit or lean, all their eyes fixed on me.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting swaying shadows on everyone's faces.

After a few seconds of silence, Lei Dachui finally couldn't hold back and spoke up in a gruff voice: "Captain, I just don't understand! 'Zhen Gui' is such a great name! It's catchy! Even the Japanese tremble at the mention of it! Why change it? Is it because we old brothers can't keep up with you anymore? Or did you find some more capable newcomers in East China this time, and now you think we're a burden?"

Upon hearing this, several veteran team members' faces darkened.

"What nonsense are you spouting, Hammer?" I laughed and cursed. "We've taken over quite a few places in East China and met a lot of capable brothers. But compared to you guys? We're nowhere near as good."

These words softened their expressions.

Song Jiahao quickly replied, "Then why change the name? Captain, we've followed you through thick and thin for so many years, this name is our soul! Changing it just like that wouldn't make us feel at ease."

"Yes, it doesn't feel right." Liu Hou muttered under his breath, playing with his knife.

I looked at them; each of their faces showed confusion and a hint of barely perceptible grievance. These old brothers regarded the Ghost Town as an honor, as a family.

I sighed and put down the enamel mug.

"Let me put it this way," I organized my thoughts, "this time in East China, we really made quite a splash. We not only secured territory, but also recruited a lot of new people. Our team's reputation will only grow, and more and more eyes will be watching us."

I paused, my gaze sweeping over them: "If I continue to lead the Ghost Suppression team, carrying out those unusual missions everywhere, have you considered that it's too conspicuous? It might not be a good thing for us, or for our entire unit?"

Lu Guang adjusted his glasses, seemingly lost in thought: "Captain, are you saying that the bigger the tree, the more the wind will blow against it?"

"That's one way to put it." I nodded. "To put it more deeply, I can't, and shouldn't, keep you all tied to my side forever. Each of you is capable of handling things independently. It's a waste to keep taking on small, menial tasks or relying entirely on me to guide you to accomplish important tasks. The brigade commander didn't send you out separately before because of me. Now that we've changed our name to Zhenguo, the responsibilities are different. From now on, you'll have your own independent missions, missions to train new recruits, and you might even be sent to different war zones separately. This is the only way to truly utilize your abilities."

After these words were spoken, the room fell silent for a moment.

The veteran team members exchanged glances, their expressions complex. They understood part of it—leading a team independently and utilizing their strengths—which was indeed something they had privately hoped for. But they felt that their captain's words hadn't quite hit the nail on the head.

Ye Qiao didn't say much, just quietly looked at me, her fingers gently tracing the edge of the enamel mug. Under the light, her eyes were clear and sharp, as if they could see into one's heart.

I know she noticed.

What I said is partly true and partly false. It is a reason, but not the whole reason, and certainly not the deepest one.

Sure enough, after the other old friends left one after another with a mix of relief, confusion, and anticipation, Ye Qiao stayed behind.

She didn't leave; she simply closed the door behind her.

Only the two of us were left in the room when the oil lamp crackled once.

She walked over and sat down opposite me, looking directly into my eyes.

"Captain," her voice was soft but steady, "those words were meant to reassure everyone, weren't they?"

I neither denied nor admitted it; I just looked at her.

"What you're worried about isn't just that the bigger the tree, the more the wind will blow against it, or just that we should become independent," Ye Qiao said slowly, as if she were thinking as she spoke. "You're afraid... that the Zhen Gui team, which you personally trained, has achieved too much and possesses too many unique skills, and that it only listens to you, will become a thorn in the side of others in the future."

I sighed inwardly. Ye Qiao is Ye Qiao; she's too meticulous and sees things too clearly.

She was right.

The merits of suppressing the ghosts were already frighteningly great. The liberation of East China may seem to be a collective achievement, but anyone with discerning eyes knows how many unconventional methods and inexplicable victories were involved.

If this team continues to exist with this mysterious and illustrious image, and only recognizes me, people will inevitably have doubts over time.

Having too much merit, too much ability, and being loyal to only one person is a taboo at any time and in any place.

The name change to Zhenguo is not just a change of name, but a complete transformation of the nature of this team, from a highly individualistic surprise force to a public, regular, and clearly defined elite force under the command of the state.

This is the only way to ensure longevity, safety, and the well-being of everyone.

I looked at Ye Qiao; her eyes shone brightly under the light, revealing worry, understanding, and something even deeper.

"Ye Qiao," I said slowly, my voice low, echoing only in the small space, "some things are better left unsaid, just understood in your heart."

I paused, looked at her, and uttered four words, one by one:

"His achievements overshadowed those of his master."

These four words struck the silent air like icicles.

Ye Qiao's body trembled almost imperceptibly, and her pupils contracted slightly. She understood, she understood everything. This wasn't just concern for the team, but also concern for me. Concern that my excessively sharp blade might one day injure itself, or even break because of its own sharpness.

The room was so quiet that you could hear the faint hissing of the lamp wick burning.

After a long while, Ye Qiao finally let out a long, very soft sigh. She lowered her head, looking at her clasped hands, and when she raised her head again, her eyes had regained their usual calm and determination.

"I understand, Captain." Her voice was steady. "Zhenguo is a good name. We will lead this team well, and we will also mentor the newcomers. Don't worry."

She didn't ask another question, nor did she express any further determination. But those words carried more weight than any vow.

I know that from this moment on, she truly understood all the weight and helplessness behind the words "protecting the country," and also took on that heavy responsibility.

"Okay." I nodded, a weight finally lifted from my heart. "Go on, it's getting late. I'll be busy starting tomorrow."

Ye Qiao stood up, walked to the door, placed her hand on the doorknob, paused for a moment, did not turn around, and spoke softly but clearly:

"Captain, no matter what our names are, we were all trained by you, and you showed us the way. We'll be your soldiers for life."

After saying that, she opened the door, went out, and gently closed it behind her.

The light from the oil lamp filled the small house again.

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

Besides the reasons mentioned above, the most important thing is that I don't want to cause trouble for Teacher Renzi. I know what will happen in the future, and I can't let any possible accidents turn into something that slanders or even attacks the teacher.

Moreover, I will disappear. If Ye Qiao and the others continue to be in Zhen Gui, they may be affected, but it doesn't matter if they are in Zhen Guo.

After all, I'm the only one who can suppress the ghost.