The Courtyard House: The Little Red Devil Returning from the Peninsula

The blue lettering hung above the embers of the furnace, like a piece of frozen glass.

Zhao Weiguo did not go to see Zhou Shichang immediately.

He stuffed the cloth bundle under the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) inside the house and weighed it down with a broken wooden board. A faint smell of oil from the canned meat wafted out, and the windows in the courtyard fell silent at the same time.

He Yuzhu twitched his nose.

"It really tastes like meat."

He Daqing grabbed him by the back of his collar.

"Even the smell isn't yours."

"I'll just smell it."

"Smelling too much of it will also lead to debt."

Zhao Weiguo rewrapped the five knives in old cloth and pushed them to Zhou Shichang's feet.

"Don't get it wet. Take it to get oiled again tomorrow morning."

Zhou Shichang squatted down and tied the cloth bundle tightly.

"Even oil matters?"

"Lard will last a while, but gunpowder is even better. Don't use vegetable soup to rub it on."

Old Xu's face darkened.

"Who used the soup to wipe the knife?"

Li Shuanzi coughed beside him.

"Last time the quartermaster said it was fuel-efficient..."

Zhou Shichang's eyelids twitched.

"I'll beat him up when we get back."

Zhao Weiguo wiped the soot off his hands. Several small cuts appeared on his fingertips, the blood mixed with the coal ash, giving them a dark color. He noticed a small icon in the lower right corner of the system panel, resembling a folded map.

[Basic tactical simulation function: Available]

[Area: Radius of 300 meters]

[Concentration Required: Mental Focus]

[Note: Currently, personnel, terrain, and firing positions can be entered.]

Zhao Weiguo's eyes darkened.

Three hundred meters.

That's enough for the hutongs.

Zhou Shichang handed the knife to Lao Xu, and his knee cracked as he stood up.

"Weiguo, I'll bring the arsenal people tomorrow. You want scrap metal? I'll get it for you. But you have to promise me one thing."

Zhao Weiguo looked up.

"explain."

"Don't go out at night. The Japanese soldiers in Fengtai are like they've taken a shot of gunpowder, pushing their patrols towards the city's edge. When we came back today, we even ran into two men in civilian clothes outside Dongzhimen, wearing Japanese military boots."

The faces of several people in the courtyard turned pale.

Yan Bugui opened the door a crack again.

"Sir, have plainclothes Japanese soldiers entered the city?"

Zhou Shichang turned his head.

"If you want to invite them for tea, leave the door open."

The door closed again.

Zhao Weiguo walked to the courtyard gate and looked at the muddy footprints on the ground. The military boot prints of Zhou Shichang and his group were very deep, with frozen soil at the edges. There were also several narrow footprints in the alley outside the courtyard, with hard heels and short strides, and the place where they stopped was directly opposite the window of the north room of the Zhao family.

He squatted down and pressed his fingers next to the footprints.

Old Xu came over.

"What are you looking at?"

Zhao Weiguo didn't answer, but opened up a tactical simulation in his mind.

The courtyard, the moon gate, the screen wall in the front yard, the locust tree at the entrance of the alley, the threshold of the Yan family's house, and the water vat under the window of the Jia family's house are all unfolded layer by layer within the blue lines. Several figures are marked with gray dots, Zhou Shichang is green, and Lao Xu and Li Shuanzi are also green; the residents in the courtyard are white dots; outside the courtyard gate, two light red afterimages lingered against the wall for about half a cup of tea's time.

[Abnormal Behavior Trajectory: 2]

[Destination for stay: Zhao Family North House]

[Risk Level: Low-Medium]

Zhao Weiguo stood up.

"Someone followed you."

Old Xu's expression changed.

"Bullshit, we saw it the whole way."

"You were looking ahead, but not at the base of the wall."

Zhou Shichang pressed down on the Mauser pistol at his waist and glanced at the dark alley outside the courtyard.

"How many people?"

"Two of them. They didn't go inside. They stood outside the door and listened for a while."

Li Shuanzi lowered the spear from his shoulder and gently pulled the bolt.

Click.

All the windows in the courtyard went silent.

Jia Dongxu's soft voice came from inside Jia Zhangshi's room.

"Mother, have the Japanese devils come?"

Jia Zhangshi covered his mouth, and the chair leg hit the ground.

Zhou Shichang stared at Zhao Weiguo.

How did you know?

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the outside of the threshold.

"Footprints. One left foot turned outwards, the other right heel worn to one side. They just stopped here, the snow on the soles of their shoes hasn't completely melted yet."

Old Xu bent down to look and cursed.

"There really is."

Zhou Shichang's face looked as if it had been smeared with furnace ash.

"Old Xu, take Li Shuanzi around from the west. Don't make a sound."

Old Xu nodded, grabbed his knife and gun, and walked out along the courtyard wall. Li Shuanzi followed behind, his steps very light.

Zhao Weiguo suddenly spoke.

"Don't go west."

Zhou Shichang stopped.

Why?

Zhao Weiguo looked towards the end of the alley. In the blue lines, the narrow alley to the west was sandwiched between two walls, with a red diagonal line at the exit.

"The alleyway to the west is narrow. There are guards there, so we can't retreat."

Old Xu frowned.

"Where to go?"

"He climbed over the back wall of the old lady's house, circled around the eaves of the coal shop, and landed behind the locust tree."

He Yuzhu immediately peeked out.

"I'll lead the way; I know which bricks are loose."

He Daqing slapped his head down.

"Stop it!"

Zhao Weiguo returned to the room, lifted the straw mat on the kang (a heated brick bed), and took out the Mauser pistol. The bolt snapped shut in his palm with a short, sharp sound.

Zhou Shichang saw it, paused for a moment, but didn't ask.

"You're following behind me?"

Zhao Weiguo tucked the gun into his waistband and covered it with his tattered cotton-padded coat.

"No. I'll guard the gate."

Zhou Shichang stared at him for half a second.

You're only ten years old.

Zhao Weiguo tucked the iron ruler into his sleeve and pressed the door latch with his other hand.

"The Japanese don't understand age."