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

From the age of nine, when Lin Yang took a few gold bars from his family and resolutely rushed into the vast darkness to find the team that could save China, he had been waiting for this day.

Old Li next to me cried, crying like a child, wiping away tears while singing the national anthem in a hoarse voice.

Zhao Gang took off his glasses and let the tears flow freely.

Lin Yang looked up at the bright red flag and silently murmured in his heart, "Comrades, do you see this? Our country has stood up!"

……

The third day after the founding ceremony of the People's Republic of China.

The organization had a three-hour talk with Lin Yang.

In a simple office, the leader frowned as he looked at the thick stack of medical records about Lin Yang on the table.

"Comrade Lin Yang, your health is not looking good." The commander sighed, pointing to an X-ray. "There are still two pieces of shrapnel left from the Ping'an Campaign stuck near your spine. In addition, you've been living a life of hardship on the front lines for the past ten years, and you've developed stomach problems and rheumatism. The doctor said that if you continue to lead troops at such a high intensity on the front lines, you probably won't live past thirty."

Lin Yang sat upright in his chair, his back still ramrod straight: "Commander, I can still fight! Taiwan hasn't been liberated yet, and there are still bandits in the southwest. I can't back down now!"

"Nonsense!" The commander slammed his hand on the table, but his eyes were full of heartache. "You're only nineteen! A nineteen-year-old deputy division commander, how long are you going to keep fighting like this? Your life doesn't just belong to yourself, it belongs to the Party and the country!"

The leader stood up, walked to Lin Yang, patted him on the shoulder, and said in a gentler tone: "The organization has made a decision. Considering your achievements and physical condition, you must be transferred to civilian work to recuperate properly and at the same time focus on local economic development."

Lin Yang fell silent. He knew that a soldier's duty was to obey orders.

"Commander, where are we going?"

"Stay in Beijing." The leader walked to the map, pointed to a location, and said, "The Beiping Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill. This is a very important large-scale steel enterprise in our country, with tens of thousands of workers. Everything is in need of rebuilding, and steel is the backbone of the nation. Go there, serve as the factory's Party Secretary, and work with Factory Director Yang Jianguo to increase our steel production!"

"Once you arrive at your destination, your rank and benefits will remain the same. The organization will provide you with a bodyguard and a special car. Lin Yang, this is another battle. Are you confident you can win?"

Lin Yang stood up, saluted, and said in a loud voice, "Mission accomplished!"

……

In the afternoon, the sunlight slanted down into the hutongs of Beijing.

A brand-new military jeep rolled over the cobblestone road, emitting a dull roar of its engine.

In the back seat of the jeep, Lin Yang held Tian Yu's hand.

Tian Yu looked curiously at the quaint streets outside the window and asked softly, "Lin Yang, is this where you lived when you were a child? You haven't been back for ten years, do you still recognize the way?"

Looking at the familiar street scene outside the window, Lin Yang felt a flood of long-forgotten memories welling up in his mind.

No. 95 Nanluoguxiang.

That courtyard house, filled with scheming and trivial matters.

He was only nine years old when he transmigrated. He clearly remembered how ugly those seemingly kind neighbors in the courtyard were behind the scenes.

His father died early, and his mother was seriously ill. Before she passed away, his mother entrusted the few gold bars that the family had left to his eldest brother, Lin Fan, asking him to raise Lin Yang well.

But in that era of war and chaos, if they stayed in Beiping, in that courtyard full of beasts, Lin Yang knew that sooner or later he and his brother would be eaten alive, leaving not even bones behind.

So, on a snowy winter night, nine-year-old Lin Yang made a crazy decision.

He secretly took the gold bars, left a letter, and ran away from Beijing to find the underground Communist Party organization.

That departure lasted for a full ten years.

Ten years of life and death are boundless.

Now, he has not only survived, but has also returned to this starting point, laden with honor and power.

"I recognize it." Lin Yang took a deep breath, his eyes sharpening. "Even with my eyes closed, I can find my way home."

"Turn left at the next intersection, and you'll be there," Lin Yang said to the guard, Xiao Li, who was driving.

"Yes, sir!"

The jeep made a smooth turn, entered a wide alley, and finally stopped in front of an imposing red-lacquered gate.

No. 95, Nanluoguxiang.

It was evening, and everyone in the courtyard had finished get off work and was busy preparing dinner in the yard.

The screeching sound of the jeep braking instantly shattered the tranquility of the alley.

In this day and age, anyone who can afford to ride in a military jeep like this must be a high-ranking official with immense influence and connections!

Uncle Yan Bugui, the third son of the family in the front yard, was watering his few potted plants withered and dying with a broken water ladle. Hearing the noise, he curiously poked his head out.

When he saw that imposing jeep parked in front of his yard, he was so startled that his hand trembled, and the water ladle in his hand fell to the ground with a "smash" and broke in two.

"Oh my goodness! Which high-ranking leader has come to inspect the grassroots level?"

Yan Bugui adjusted his glasses, which were taped to the bridge of his nose, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

The car door opened.

Two fully armed guards jumped out of the car quickly and deftly opened the back door.

A foot wearing a black military boot is standing on the ground.

Immediately afterwards, Lin Yang, dressed in a crisp cadre uniform, took Tian Yu's hand and got out of the car.

Although Lin Yang had changed out of his military uniform, the ruthless and decisive aura he exuded, honed amidst piles of corpses, was like a drawn sword, instantly making the onlookers around breathless.

Yan Bugui carefully examined the young man in front of him, who had sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, and a powerful aura. He felt that the young man looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen him before.

"Comrade, who...who are you looking for?" Yan Bugui asked boldly, his face beaming with smiles.

Lin Yang glanced coldly at Yan Bugui, ignoring him, and turned to the two guards, saying, "Xiao Li, Xiao Wang, move the things inside."

"yes!"

The two guards immediately opened the trunk of the jeep.

As the trunk was opened, gasps of astonishment rose and fell around the room.

The trunk was completely full of supplies!

Two 50-pound bags of snow-white high-gluten flour, half a fresh pork belly still bloody, two brand-new military overcoats, a whole box of imported Soviet beef cans, and various malted milk powder, White Rabbit milk candy, and cartons of Daqianmen cigarettes...

In an era when even eating corn porridge required careful budgeting and everything needed ration coupons, these things piled up together were more awe-inspiring than a mountain of gold!

"Gulp..."

Yan Bugui swallowed hard, his eyes gleaming with greed. If he could get a pound of meat from this guy—no, half a pound—he'd treat him like royalty!

Not only Yan Bugui, but also the people in the middle and back courtyards who heard the commotion all rushed out.

Uncle Yi Zhonghai, Uncle Liu Haizhong, Jia Dongxu, Sha Zhu, Xu Damao...