Courtyard House: From Deputy Division Commander to Civilian, Progressing All the Way

Late March 1949.

On the green train bound for the capital, Beiping, the carriages made a rhythmic "clanging" sound along the seams of the rails.

Lin Yang sat by the window, calmly watching the northern autumn scenery rushing past outside.

He was wearing a faded military uniform, his posture was upright, and he had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes.

Although he was only nineteen years old, his deep eyes revealed a sense of vicissitude and sharpness that were completely incompatible with his age.

That was the look in their eyes, the look that came from crawling out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and from countless life-or-death trials.

"Old Lin, what are you thinking about? You seem so lost in thought."

Sitting opposite him, Li Yunlong grinned widely, peeling a peanut in his hand, casually tossing it into his mouth, and chewing it with relish.

Lin Yang withdrew his gaze, looked at the renowned general in front of him, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.

"I wasn't thinking about anything, I just felt that the world was finally about to be at peace."

Li Yunlong laughed heartily, then slapped his thigh hard with his large, fan-like hand:

"That's right! Back in the day, when we were being chased all over the mountains by the Japanese devils in northwestern Shanxi, who would have thought we would be where we are today?"

You're a real freak, kid. You dared to steal your family's gold bars when you were nine and run off to join the Eighth Route Army. You fought your way up from a little Red Army kid to a deputy division commander in the Fourth Field Army! A nineteen-year-old deputy division commander! When I was your age, I was still weaving baskets in the village!

On the bunk next to him, Zhao Gang, who was reading a book, pushed up his glasses and smiled gently:

"Old Li, you're being sarcastic. Comrade Lin Yang's achievements were earned through hard work and fighting."

Putting everything else aside, just take the battle of Ping'an County. If Comrade Lin Yang hadn't led the assault platoon, braving heavy enemy fire to storm the city walls and cut the fuse of the Italian cannon, would Comrade Xiuqin still be sitting here peacefully sewing clothes for you?

Upon hearing this, Xiuqin, who was sitting next to Li Yunlong and sewing shoe soles, looked up and her eyes immediately reddened.

She put down her work and looked earnestly at Lin Yang: "Brother, Political Commissar Zhao is right. You gave me my life, Xiuqin. When I was on the city wall, watching Old Li pull out that cannon, my heart was broken. You rushed forward, covered in blood, to shield me from the Japanese soldiers' sniper fire... Old Li and I will remember this kindness for the rest of our lives!"

Lin Yang waved his hand, his tone gentle yet unwavering: "Sister-in-law, let's not dwell on the past. Old Li is my old comrade-in-arms; I can't just stand by and watch him spend the rest of his life as a bachelor, can I?"

A soft laugh suddenly rippled through the carriage.

Sitting next to Lin Yang, Tian Yu gently held her husband's hand.

Tian Yu was dressed in a neat Lenin suit, with two braids, exuding a gentle and intellectual air. Her eyes were filled with unwavering tenderness and admiration as she looked at Lin Yang.

During the Ping'an Campaign, Lin Yang was shot three times and nearly died.

After being sent to a field hospital, Tian Yu took care of him day and night. The two met and fell in love amidst the flames of war, eventually becoming revolutionary partners.

"Old Li." Lin Yang grasped his wife's hand in return, turned his gaze to Li Yunlong, and his expression gradually became serious.

"What's wrong, Lao Lin? Your stern face makes my heart pound." Li Yunlong's smile faded.

Not only Li Yunlong, but also Ding Wei, Kong Jie, and Zhao Gang, all turned their gazes toward Lin Yang.

As the "Iron Triangle" of Northwest China, although they were no less senior than Lin Yang in terms of position and even had more seniority, they had a deep respect for this nineteen-year-old.

Lin Yang was not only fearless in battle, but also possessed a chilling strategic vision. During the three major campaigns, his ingenious strategies repeatedly saved the main forces of the Fourth Field Army from peril, earning him remarkable achievements.

Lin Yang stared at Li Yunlong and said, word by word, "We're about to enter Beiping. Now that we've won the country, the days ahead won't be about fighting with bayonets on the battlefield anymore."

"I know your temper best, Lao Li. You're like a firecracker, ready to explode at any moment, and you're fearless, even daring to talk back to the boss."

Lin Yang leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice: "But in peacetime, you have to change this temper. We're about to enter the city; it's like 'going to the capital for the imperial examination.' You need to learn to temper your sharpness and bide your time. Don't draw your gun and glare at people so easily. Read more books and listen to Old Zhao's advice. Do you understand?"

Li Yunlong was stunned for a moment. If anyone else had dared to teach him a lesson like that, he would have cursed them out long ago.

But when facing Lin Yang, he was unusually silent.

Zhao Gang nodded in agreement, "Old Li, Lin Yang is right. It's easy to conquer a country, but difficult to maintain it. From now on, we will face the important task of building the nation, and we can no longer use the old warlord style."

Li Yunlong scratched his head and sighed, "Alright, Lao Lin, Lao Zhao, I'll listen to you. From now on, I, Li Yunlong, will keep a low profile. Is that alright?"

"It's not just you." Lin Yang looked at Ding Wei and Kong Jie. "Old Ding, you're quick-witted, but sometimes you're prone to making mistakes based on past experience. Old Kong, you're steady, but you tend to be inflexible. In the future, whether you're in the local area or the military region, you need to be more careful with your words and actions."

Ding Wei and Kong Jie exchanged a glance and nodded solemnly at the same time.

They knew that Lin Yang was giving them heartfelt advice.

The atmosphere in the carriage became somewhat solemn, yet filled with a sense of anticipation and hope for the future.

Sitting next to Zhao Gang, Feng Nan watched this scene and couldn't help but whisper to Tian Yu, "Tian, ​​your Lin Yang is only nineteen years old, how come he speaks and acts more maturely than these veterans?"

Tian Yu looked tenderly at Lin Yang's profile and said softly, "He has too many things on his mind. After ten years of fighting, he's no longer a child."

……

Time flew by and it came to September 1, 1949.

Tiananmen Square, Beiping (Beijing).

The autumn sky was clear and cloudless.

The square was packed with people, and red flags were waving everywhere. Three hundred thousand soldiers and civilians had gathered here, and every face was filled with excitement and fervor that words could not express.

Lin Yang was dressed in a crisp military officer's uniform, his chest adorned with numerous heavy medals.

Sunlight shines on those medals, reflecting a dazzling light. Behind each medal lies a tragic history of blood and fire.

Tian Yu stood beside him, holding his arm tightly, tears welling in her eyes.

Beside them, Li Yunlong, Zhao Gang, Ding Wei, Kong Jie, and others stood ramrod straight, like unshakeable iron towers. Li Yunlong, who was usually the most talkative, was now clenching his teeth, his eyes were bloodshot, and his body was trembling slightly.

When that imposing figure on the city wall walked to the microphone and solemnly announced the arrival of that great moment to the world in a voice with a heavy Hunan accent.

The entire square erupted in cheers!

Cheers, shouts, and cries mingled together, soaring into the sky.

The five-star red flag slowly rose amidst the majestic strains of the national anthem.

Lin Yang suddenly raised his right hand, his fingertips pressed against the brim of his hat, and gave a perfectly standard military salute.

His vision blurred.

Ten years of fierce battles, ten years of surviving near-death experiences.