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

In this day and age, the public security system is an absolutely powerful department for maintaining social order! They have guns in their hands and skin on their bodies! Who wouldn't respectfully call them "Comrade Police Officer"?

His son is not only going to become a police officer, but he'll start as a deputy director!

This is like achieving instant success!

"Heavens above... Our He family is going to produce an official!" He Daqing clasped his hands together and bowed repeatedly towards the roof.

He Yuzhu nodded steadily: "Dad, this matter is basically settled. We can report for duty after the formalities are completed. From now on, in this courtyard house, in this city of Beijing, we won't cause trouble, but we're definitely not afraid of trouble either!"

"That's right! We're not afraid of trouble! Anyone who dares to mess with us, we'll just arrest them!" He Daqing laughed heartily.

The He family thoroughly enjoyed the meal, filled with boundless hope for the future.

……

Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, half a month has passed.

Autumn is growing stronger in Beijing.

Nanyuan Military Airport.

A C-47 large military transport plane, without any national markings, sat quietly on the runway.

Around the airport, there were guards every three steps and sentries every five steps, and fully armed People's Liberation Army soldiers surrounded the entire tarmac.

Today marks the day that the once-arrogant five-star American general, MacArthur, was repatriated.

In accordance with the armistice agreement and secret negotiations between the two sides' high-level officials, China agreed to hand over this war criminal, who had already been paraded through the streets and had completely lost his political value, to the United States.

One side of the tarmac.

Lin Yang and Li Yunlong stood side by side.

Lin Yang, dressed in a crisp general's uniform and wearing a woolen overcoat, had a deep and calm gaze. Li Yunlong, on the other hand, had his hands on his belt, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his face full of disdain and arrogance.

Behind the two men stood a row of heavily armed special forces guards.

A short while later.

A black Jeep stopped at the edge of the runway.

The car door opened, and two tall Chinese People's Volunteer Army soldiers escorted an elderly foreign man wearing an old suit without any rank insignia as he stepped out.

It was MacArthur.

In the past few months, this former five-star general has experienced the darkest and most humiliating time of his life.

The rotten vegetable leaves and rotten eggs that paraded through the streets shattered his proud soul. In the war criminal management center, he woke up countless times in a fright, his mind filled with the unstoppable bugle calls of Chinese soldiers charging like a tidal wave.

He is old.

His once straight back had become somewhat hunched, and his once arrogant face was now covered with deep wrinkles and signs of fatigue.

As he was being escorted toward the transport plane, he suddenly paused.

Because he saw the two men standing by the gangway.

The young general who pulled him out of the car on the highway like a god descending to earth—Lin Yang!

And that gruff, foul-mouthed general who commanded mortars to cut off his retreat—Li Yunlong!

MacArthur's pupils contracted slightly.

He took a deep breath, pushed aside the soldiers escorting him, and walked slowly to Lin Yang and Li Yunlong with somewhat heavy steps.

An extremely complex tension permeated the air.

One was the once-powerful and invincible Supreme Commander of the United States during World War II; while standing opposite him were two founding generals of the new China who had defeated him.

MacArthur looked at Lin Yang quietly, a complex light flickering in his deep-set eyes.

There was resentment, there was disappointment, but more than anything, there was a deep respect among soldiers.

"General."

MacArthur spoke slowly through the translator beside him. His voice was somewhat hoarse, carrying an air of profound weariness.

"I fought in two world wars. I faced German armored divisions and defeated the Japanese Combined Fleet. I once thought my army was invincible in the world."

MacArthur's gaze swept over the volunteer soldiers behind Lin Yang, looking at their eyes, which, though simply dressed, were as resolute as steel.

"However, on the Korean Peninsula, I admit defeat."

This arrogant five-star general finally lowered his head.

"I was not defeated by your weapons, because your weapons are not even as good as our World War II obsolete weapons."

"I was defeated by your soldiers, defeated by your terrifying willpower!"

MacArthur looked at Lin Yang, his tone becoming extremely heavy.

"An army that can lie in wait for three days and three nights in temperatures of minus forty degrees Celsius; an army that dares to take tanks down with them while carrying explosives in order to seize a position. No force in this world can defeat them."

"General Lin, you are a group of soldiers who are truly worthy of respect."

Listening to the translator's retelling.

Li Yunlong sneered and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

"Old Mike, you're half right! Chinese soldiers are tough as nails! Go back and tell those American officials to stop loitering around our doorstep all the time! If they dare mess with us again, next time it won't be as simple as just kidnapping you and parading you through the streets; I'll march all the way to Washington!"

After listening to the translation, MacArthur shook his head bitterly, offering no rebuttal. He knew that this rugged general before him was absolutely capable of such a thing.

Lin Yang stood with his hands in his coat pockets, his gaze calmly fixed on MacArthur.

There was no arrogance of the victors, nor any mockery of the losers.

There is only one profound understanding that sees through the vicissitudes of history.

"General MacArthur." Lin Yang's voice was deep and powerful, piercing through the howling autumn wind at the airport.

"A general who does not understand the will of the people, a commander who attempts to conquer an awakened nation with steel and explosives, is destined to taste the bitter fruit of failure."

Lin Yang slightly raised his chin, his eyes sharp as knives.

"China is no longer the China that could be bullied at will. We love peace, but we are absolutely not afraid of war."

"You can go back with your failures and lessons learned. I wish you a peaceful and happy retirement in the United States."

MacArthur gave Lin Yang a deep look, as if he wanted to etch that young yet cold face into his mind forever.

He didn't say anything more, but slowly raised his right hand and gave Lin Yang and Li Yunlong a standard American military salute.

This is the highest respect the defeated pay to the victors.

Lin Yang and Li Yunlong looked solemn and simultaneously raised their right hands to return a dignified Chinese military salute!

The ceremony is over.

MacArthur turned around and, with heavy steps, walked up the gangway of the transport plane.

His silhouette looked incredibly lonely and wretched in the autumn wind, like a vulture whose feathers had been plucked.

The cabin door closed slowly.

The massive propellers began to roar, the transport plane taxied and accelerated on the runway, and finally took off and disappeared into the northern horizon.

……