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

When Liang Cheng and his guard returned to their alley, it was a little after ten in the morning. The alley was quiet. Several housewives were squatting at their doorways picking vegetables, and someone was carrying a basin out of the yard to pour water. When they saw Liang Cheng walking back with a strange young man, they all took a second look.

Liang Cheng didn't greet them. He walked a few steps faster than usual and went straight to the gate of his own courtyard, then pushed it open and went inside.

Liang Cheng's wife was tidying up the table inside when she heard the door open. She looked up and saw Liang Cheng come in. She was stunned for a moment, but when she saw a young man in a cadre uniform with a gun on his waist behind him, her expression changed immediately.

She put down the rag she was holding, quickly came over, and asked in a low voice, "Old Liang, what happened? What's wrong?"

Liang Cheng waved his hand, trying to keep his tone calm: "Don't ask, just help me pack a few changes of clothes, just a few, not too many."

Liang Cheng's wife opened her mouth, wanting to ask something more, but seeing Liang Cheng's determined look, and glancing at the expressionless face of the guard behind him, she swallowed her words.

She turned and walked to the cabinet, opened the door, and pulled out two clean shirts, a pair of trousers, a pair of cloth shoes, and a thicker work jacket. She folded them and stuffed them into an old canvas bag.

Liang Cheng took the canvas bag, slung it over his shoulder, and said to his wife, "I have to go on a business trip. I have a mission. Don't worry about things at home. If anything happens, go to Erhe and Fangfang. If they ask, just say I'm going to work out of town. Don't say anything else."

After he finished speaking, he glanced at his wife, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end he just nodded and turned to walk towards the door.

The guard quickly caught up and took the canvas bag from Liang Cheng's shoulder: "Master Liang, let me carry it for you."

Liang Cheng glanced at him, did not refuse, let go of his hand, looked back one last time at the house where he had lived for most of his life, and then pushed open the door and walked out.

Meanwhile, the same scene was unfolding simultaneously in many courtyards in and around Beijing.

Fang Tie lived in a large courtyard in the south of the city. His family consisted of five people: his wife, son, daughter-in-law, and a four-year-old grandson. When Fang Tie entered, the family was eating around the table. Upon seeing him return with a stranger, his wife put down her chopsticks first.

Fang Tie didn't beat around the bush. Standing in the middle of the room, he explained the situation in a few words: "I have to go on a business trip to work in another city for quite a while. Please take care of things at home. My son and daughter-in-law are busy with work, so please help take care of my grandson."

Fang Tie's son stood up and asked, "Dad, where are you going on that business trip? How long will you be gone?"

Fang Tiegang said two words: "Not yet—" The guard behind him coughed lightly twice.

Fang Tie's lips twitched. He turned back and gave the expressionless young man a resentful look, then turned to his family and waved his hand: "Alright, stop asking questions. Everyone's at home, doing well. Go to work or go to school as usual."

He bent down and patted his grandson's head, his voice a few decibels lower than before: "Study hard, listen to Grandma and Mom and Dad, Grandpa will bring you something nice when he comes back."

The little grandson looked up at him, not quite understanding what had happened, but nodded and said in a childish voice, "Grandpa, come back soon."

Fang Tie hummed in agreement, said nothing more, picked up the cloth bag his wife handed him, turned and went out the door.

Similar things happened in the homes of the other twenty-odd Grade 8 workers. Some silently accepted their luggage, some gave their families a few brief words, and some refused to say a word when asked, simply shaking their heads. The guards followed nearby, saying little, only coughing lightly when someone asked too many questions.

Although most of the family members were full of questions, seeing the young man with a gun standing nearby, none of them pressed for more information.

Around 1 p.m., everyone gradually returned to the Second Ministry of Machine Building. Meals had been prepared in advance in the meeting room: two meat dishes and one vegetable dish for each person, unlimited rice and steamed buns, and a large pot of hot soup on a corner table. In those days, such a meal was considered quite lavish.

One by one, everyone sat down at the table and picked up their chopsticks. Some took a couple of bites and then put them down, some rummaged through their rice bowls for a long time without putting any in their mouths, and some exchanged a glance with the person next to them without saying a word, but their eyes conveyed everything.

Two meat dishes and one vegetable dish—it was a better meal than during Chinese New Year at home. But the fact that it was eaten at this time made many people uneasy, as if it were their last meal before death.

Liu Yuheng walked in when they were almost finished eating. He glanced around from the doorway and, seeing that most people had already put down their chopsticks, walked to the table and asked briefly and confidently, "Have you all finished eating?"

Everyone nodded in agreement. Some people stuffed the last bite of steamed bun into their mouths, while others pushed their bowls aside.

Liu Yuheng didn't say anything more, and gestured with his chin towards the door: "Alright, let's go downstairs and set off."

One by one, everyone stood up, carrying their luggage, and followed the staff downstairs. Cars were already parked at the entrance of the Second Ministry of Machine Building. In front was a black Volga sedan, followed by two grass-green military trucks with canvas tarpaulins covering the cargo beds and the tailgates lowered.

Liu Yuheng bent down and got into the car in front, while more than twenty level-eight workers, along with their accompanying guards and staff, boarded the trucks behind in batches. The sound of the truck engines starting up echoed in the quiet courtyard, making the ground tremble slightly.

Liu Yuheng sat in the back seat of the car, glancing through the window at the trucks behind them. The figures sitting in the canvas awnings were indistinct and hard to make out. He looked away and said three words to the driver: "To the train station."

The car slowly drove out of the Second Ministry of Machine Building compound, followed by trucks one after another, forming a line and heading towards the train station.

Not long after, on the train station platform, several grass-green military trucks had already parked at the entrance of the special passage. The rear panels of the trucks were down, and the canvas awnings were rolled up to the side, revealing neatly stacked luggage and rows of people sitting inside the trucks.

Liu Yuheng got out of the car and stood at the entrance of the passage, watching the trucks behind him stop one after another. The staff and guards were organizing the workers to get off the trucks, counting the number of people, and moving their luggage. Everything was proceeding in a tense but orderly manner.

The special passage is a dedicated passage set up by the station for military and classified transportation. It leads directly from the side door to the platform and is separated by sentry posts and iron railings. Ordinary passengers cannot see what is happening on this side.

Liu Yuheng walked at the front of the passage, followed by Xiao Wei and several staff members, and then more than twenty level-eight workers and their guards.

Most of the workers remained silent, carrying canvas bags or old leather suitcases. Some looked around, surveying the passageway they had never traversed before, while others followed the person in front of them with their heads down, their pace neither hurried nor slow.