Courtyard Houses: Starting with Li Yunlong's Comrades-in-Arms

Looking at him like this, Liu Yuheng shook his head with a smile, his tone teasing and reminding him: "But Lao Li, I have to say this upfront. This time when you go to the Southwest, you'd better behave yourself as a division commander and not personally lead the charge like you did back then. You're forty-five or forty-six this year, right? You're not a young man in your twenties anymore. If you get demoted by the commander-in-chief again, I won't plead for you."

Li Yunlong waved his hand, his expression a mixture of guilt and self-mockery, as if a sore spot had been touched: "Alright, alright, stop bringing up those old grudges. I'm not what I used to be. I'm forty-five or forty-six years old now, and I still have two pieces of shrapnel stuck in my waist. How could I possibly be able to fight? Don't worry, once we get to the Southwest, I'll just sit in the command post and let those lads below do the fighting. I'll just focus on strategizing and winning battles from afar."

He chuckled twice, then changed the subject, turning his attention to Liu Yuheng: "But speaking of which, Lao Liu, you're only thirty-three this year, right? You're the youngest among us brothers, and you have the biggest future. How about we become in-laws after you have another daughter in a couple of years? I just had a baby two years ago, so I can marry your Zhiyuan... no, I mean your daughter, perfect!"

Liu Yuheng was just about to drink when he heard this and almost choked. He put down his glass, rolled his eyes, and looked at Li Yunlong's face, which was a mix of drunkenness and seriousness. His tone was a mixture of exasperation and amusement: "You, Old Li, not only have a big head, but you also have pretty high hopes. Something that's barely even started, and you're already thinking about it?"

Upon hearing this, Li Yunlong was not angry at all. Instead, he burst into laughter, so much so that he leaned back and the chair creaked twice.

The food on the table had gone cold, the wine jar was empty and tilted to one side, and only a layer of light brown residue remained at the bottom of the glass.

The warm yellow light in the living room illuminated the faces of the three people. Li Yunlong leaned back in his chair, still holding the empty wine glass in his hand, his knuckles white from the force.

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly slammed his glass down on the table, the bottom of the glass hitting the surface with a dull thud. He then raised his hand and wiped his face with his rough palm: "Old Liu, Old Zhao, let me tell you the truth. I'm really not happy about being transferred this time."

Liu Yuheng and Zhao Gang both put down their cups and looked at him. Li Yunlong didn't look at them; his gaze fell on the greasy lampshade on the table, as if he saw something else through the dim light.

"Xing Zhiguo, Zhang Dabiao, and those old brothers who have been with us since northwestern Shanxi, a whole regiment of men, fought through eight years of the War of Resistance against Japan and four years of the War of Liberation. How many people died in the hail of bullets, but those who survived crawled out of piles of dead bodies with us."

"I led them from northwestern Shanxi all the way to the Central Plains, all the way to the coast. We were almost there, but what happened?"

"They're all buried over in Kinmen. Not a single one of them came back. As the regimental commander, I can't even collect the remains of these old brothers. I, Li Yunlong, have fought half my life and lost so many brothers, but I've never felt so frustrated as this time."

As he spoke, the moisture in his eyes deepened, and something glistened in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let it fall. He simply blinked hard twice and exhaled heavily.

Zhao Gang sat beside him, his hand holding the teacup motionless for a long time. He listened to the names that Li Yunlong uttered one by one: Xing Zhiguo, Zhang Dabiao, and those names that he hadn't said aloud, just kept in his throat. Each one felt like a stone sinking into his heart.

Zhao Gang was familiar with those people. Xing Zhiguo was the deputy commander of the Independent Regiment, and Zhang Dabiao was trained by Li Yunlong. Zhao Gang knew all of them; they had fought together, eaten together, and slept on the same kang (heated brick bed).

Liu Yuheng put down his wine glass, leaned back in his chair, and gazed at the dark night outside the window: "Yes. From northwestern Shanxi to the Changbai Mountains and the Heilongjiang River, from the Central Plains to foreign lands, too many old brothers have fallen along the way. Some died on the way of the charge, some died on the battlefield, and some didn't even leave behind their bodies. We have come to where we are today by stepping on their shoulders."

He paused, his gaze shifting from the window to the faces of his two old comrades-in-arms before him: "But the dead are gone, and the living must move on. All we can do is live well for those old brothers who didn't get to see this day. Let's see what this country will become for them. We'll see the day they didn't live to see."

Li Yunlong sniffed, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and suddenly laughed, a rough, self-deprecating laugh: "Sorry to make you guys laugh. I'm usually so carefree, but today I'm acting like a woman, wiping away tears. Damn it, the alcohol's really getting to me, I'm just blurting out whatever comes to mind."

Liu Yuheng and Zhao Gang both shook their heads. Zhao Gang reached out and patted Li Yunlong on the shoulder without saying a word, but the pat was a bit harder than usual.

Liu Yuheng also picked up his teacup and raised it to him: "Alright, we've been brothers for so many years, we all know each other well. If you, Li Da Nao, really kept everything to yourself, that would be worrying."

The three of them sat for a while longer, and none of them brought up those heavy topics again. The clock struck ten, and the heating in the living room was still on, but the food on the table had gone completely cold, and even the aroma of the wine had almost dissipated.

Zhao Gang was the first to stand up, picking up his coat draped over the back of his chair. Li Yunlong followed suit, stretching his shoulders, which had become stiff from sitting for so long.

Liu Yuheng got up and saw them to the door. The three of them stood in the hallway. Li Yunlong put on his overcoat, buttoned it up, and resumed his usual impetuous manner. He reached out and patted Liu Yuheng on the shoulder forcefully: "Alright, don't see me off anymore, it's cold outside. I'm reporting to the Central Military Commission the day after tomorrow, and then I'll be heading to the Southwest in a couple of days."

Zhao Gang put on his coat, nodded to Liu Yuheng, and said in a more relaxed tone, "Old Liu, we've talked enough today. You should get some rest too. I'll think about it some more and call you when I've made up my mind."

Liu Yuheng nodded, saying nothing more, but simply opened the door and saw the two out. The two bent down and climbed into the back seat. Liu Yuheng stood on the steps at the door and waved to them. The car door closed, the engine started, the taillights flashed briefly in the night, and the car slowly drove out of the yard.

Liu Yuheng stood at the door for a few seconds, watching the car's taillights disappear around the corner of the courtyard gate, before turning back into the house.