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

After capturing Sidiantong on August 20th, the Independent Regiment took down four more strongholds: Sanglin Town, Zhaozhuang, Xiaojingshan, and Shouyang South Station. The fighting was tough, but none of the battles resulted in serious losses. By November, the autumn counter-offensive was coming to an end, and the troops were finally able to focus on reorganization and training.

The training ground has changed.

Before dawn, the buglers sounded the reveille. More than two thousand men ran drills in the mountain gullies, their footsteps pounding on the frozen ground, raising dust that lingered for a long time. The political commissars set up a literacy class by the drill ground, nailing a blackboard to wooden planks, and taught the new recruits one hundred characters every afternoon. Old Zhou led the First Battalion to the back of the mountain to practice mountain assaults; from the foot of the mountain to the summit, a distance of four hundred meters, the entire battalion was in position within five minutes.

The documents were piled up in three stacks. On the left were training reports, in the middle were ammunition inventory sheets, and on the right were the recruit rosters. He turned a page, drew a line under the number with his pen, and then turned to the next page. Zhao Gang sat opposite him writing a political work report, the sound of his brush dipping in ink echoing softly in the cave dwelling.

The November sunlight streamed in through the doorway, illuminating the open pages of paper.

Without warning. Without gradual implementation. The system panel popped up in front of me, with large red text spread out horizontally.

High-risk target: Yamamoto Ichiki.

Tactical simulation level: Upgraded.

Objective: Command system of an independent regiment.

Zhao Weiguo's hand holding the cup froze in mid-air.

He looked at it for three seconds.

Then he put down his cup, reached for the report in front of him, and turned to a new page. His face was expressionless. Zhao Gang glanced up at him. He had paused for a moment. Then he looked down again.

He walked out of the regimental headquarters cave dwelling. A row of new recruits were squatting on the parade ground practicing disassembling and assembling firearms. A sergeant was counting them down, and anyone who was slow was scolded. He walked around the edge of the parade ground, his steps a little faster than usual, and no one noticed.

He walked to the front of a cave dwelling on the back hill. The cave dwelling was originally used for storing miscellaneous items, but he had cleared out half of it to use as a warehouse. Shovels, hemp ropes, and several buckets of tung oil were piled in the corner. He sat down on a wooden box, closed his eyes, and recalled the warning message.

The red alert is still in effect.

He scrolled down a bit.

The health data is different from a few months ago. There's a new line of small gray text at the bottom, which you have to scroll to the second page to see; it's hidden by the system and doesn't display automatically. There are no achievement notifications, no flashing effects, just an old item at the very bottom of the collapsible menu, but the color is a little lighter than before.

Zhao Weiguo stared at the line of text for a few seconds, then closed the panel.

He raised his hand and pressed it against his chest. Through his cotton-padded coat, the bones and muscles felt hard, but the old injury didn't hurt. He then squeezed his right arm; the muscles under his fingertips were taut, unlike a few months ago.

He kept it to himself. The Japanese wouldn't fire fewer shots just because he was physically stronger. But it was a message.

He reopened the panel and flipped to Yamamoto's details page.

Yamamoto's special forces regrouped in the Taiyuan area. Following the defeat at Liushugou, the reinforcements from the front army suffered heavy losses, leaving only a handful of his core personnel. Re-training and recruitment were conducted in Taiyuan, expanding his direct command to thirty men. New equipment included captured Chinese civilian clothing, replicas of the Type 24 rifle, and shortwave portable radios. The training period was approximately two months.

two months.

He tapped his fingers twice on his knee.

The window of opportunity is still open, but it won't last long.

He came out of the cave dwelling and walked back to the regimental headquarters. Zhao Gang was still writing a report when he heard footsteps and looked up. Zhao Weiguo sat back down at the table, picked up his pen, and without mentioning Yamamoto, only said one sentence.

"Old Zhao, could you summarize the unusual intelligence from the Taihang Mountains region over the past three months?"

Zhao Gang put down his pen: "What's unusual about it?"

"A missing sentry. A message route that's been overturned. An unfamiliar caravan. Anything will do."

Zhao Gang glanced at him, didn't press further, and flipped open a notebook to write down the request. He wrote two lines, then looked up and said, "There are two things I've been wanting to tell you. A little over a month ago, an old man in Changjiagou said he heard voices coming from the direction of the railway tracks in the middle of the night, and they didn't sound like locals. At the time, we thought they were just passing by and didn't think much of it. Also, last month, one of the letters sent to the brigade headquarters was delayed for three days. The soldier delivering the letter said he encountered a heavy rain and had to take a detour."

Zhao Weiguo did not look up.

What did that letter say?

"Ammunition inventory and training progress."

Zhao Weiguo put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and thought for a while.

"Are there several points on the delivery route where we can take a detour?"

Zhao Gang paused for a moment, then flipped through his notebook. "Three routes: the main road goes through Shimenkou, the smaller routes go through Ganhegou and Baimagou. The messenger took the Ganhegou route."

Zhao Weiguo offered no comment. He picked up a pen and drew a circle on the edge of the report.

"Starting today, all mail delivery routes will rotate every ten days. No questions asked, execute the order."

Zhao Gang looked at him and waited a few seconds.

What are you looking for?

Zhao Weiguo turned to a page of the report.

"Find a wolf that isn't quite dead."

In the evening, Gardenia returned from her scouting mission on the outskirts.

She entered the regimental headquarters, wiped the mud off her shoes on the steps, and walked in. Zhao Gang poured her some water, which she drank in one gulp and then put down the cup.

"Someone from the Yangquan direction is asking about us."

Zhao Weiguo raised his head.

"What are you asking about?"

"Changing-of-guard hours, patrol routes, and the location of the regimental headquarters," Zhi Zi said. "The person asking claimed to be a medicinal herb merchant, saying he wanted to buy some mountain products from the Independent Regiment. But his accent was wrong."

What accent?

"The Kwantung Army system. I heard that accent in Anyang, it was exactly the same," Zhi Zi said. "That man said he spent years traveling in the Taihang Mountains to trade medicinal herbs, wore local clothes, and tried to speak with a Shanxi accent, but there were a few words, like 'time' and 'location,' pronounced with a style he'd developed from training in Northeast China."

Zhao Weiguo's fingers paused on the edge of the table. Zhi Zi's message matched the warning. Yamamoto's men had already reached the edge of Taihang Mountain. He pushed his chair back, walked to the doorway, stood there for a moment, then turned back.

"Go and call Old Zhou and the monk."

When Old Zhou came in, he still had a training pistol tucked into his belt. The monk followed behind him, his steps slow and his landings steady. Zhao Weiguo closed the door and spread out a map of the Taihang Mountains on the table, marking several locations: Baimaling, Yangquan, and Taiyuan.

Zhao Weiguo said something.

"Yamamoto Ichiki is still alive."

The air in the cave tightened slightly. Old Zhou's hand froze in mid-air; the tea in his cup had gone cold, but he hadn't drunk it. The monk, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up after hearing this.

"He regrouped in Taiyuan. The battle at Liushugou had nearly wiped out his forces, leaving only a few under his direct command. He recruited and trained new men, expanding to thirty. They were equipped with new gear; it wasn't just a special forces unit anymore. The target was an independent regiment."

Old Zhou put the cup down.

Where did you get this information?

Zhao Weiguo did not answer the question. He looked at the map and drew a line with his finger from Taiyuan to Yangquan, and then from Yangquan to Baimaling.

"Gardenia discovered today in Yangquan that someone was inquiring about our garrison schedule. The accent was that of someone from the Kwantung Army system. The timing matches up."

Old Zhou didn't reply. He stood next to the map for a while, his voice lowering.

"We let him get away last time."

"So we can't let him run again this time," Zhao Weiguo said.

The monk didn't sit down. He stood by the table, one hand resting on the hilt of the short sword at his waist. He didn't speak, but he didn't remove his hand.

Zhao Weiguo did not immediately deploy a counterattack. He sat down at the table, glanced at them, and then said something.

"Starting tomorrow, the perimeter security will be upgraded."

He explained it in great detail. Each battalion will change its password starting tomorrow night. The existing sentries will remain in place, but new sentries will be added.

The hidden sentry was positioned thirty paces away, not engaging in conversation with the visible sentry. The password was delivered a day in advance, sealed in an envelope, and opened on the same day.

Old Zhou asked, "Should we send someone towards Yangquan?"

Zhao Weiguo said there was no rush.

"Yamamoto won't attack from the Yangquan direction. The movements from Yangquan are just a probe."

How do you know it's a test?

"After losing last time, he won't follow the same old path," Zhao Weiguo said. "He knows he can't stop them from the outside. The more chaotic things get in Yangquan, the more it seems like they're trying to pull our eyes out."

Old Zhou thought for a while and nodded.

"Where did he shoot from?"

"I'm not sure either," Zhao Weiguo said, "but I know how he'll fight. He won't attack head-on; he'll find a spot I won't be looking for."

The monk spoke at this moment. He spoke very slowly.

"Are you talking about that kind of method, where you first create an opening from the inside and then pour the water in from the outside?"

Zhao Weiguo glanced at him. The monk didn't avoid his gaze, but he didn't continue speaking.

"Have you ever seen this kind of play before?" Zhao Weiguo asked.

The monk remained silent for a few seconds.

"I've seen it. Bandits often do that when they raid a stronghold."

Zhao Weiguo pondered those words for a moment.

"Then guard the inside as well."

He stood up, walked to the door, lifted the curtain to look at the night outside, then lowered the curtain and turned around.

"Starting tomorrow, each battalion will report any personnel abnormalities daily. Report anyone who suddenly requests sick leave, anyone who leaves the unit without cause, or anyone acting strangely. Don't make a fuss; report it to me."

Old Zhou nodded. The monk touched the short knife at his waist again, his mouth tightly shut.

After they dispersed, Zhao Weiguo remained alone at the regimental headquarters. The kerosene lamp burned for most of the night, its flame flickering to one side as the wind blew in through the doorway. Before leaving, Zhao Gang placed the compiled notebook of unusual intelligence on the corner of the table. He flipped through a couple of pages, stopping at the entry for the old man from Changjiagou. He stared at it for a while before closing the notebook.

He reopened the system interface.

On the interface, Yamamoto's name was still lit up. His tactical rating was slightly higher than before. The simplified map next to it showed Taiyuan, Taihang Mountains, and several strongholds, with the direction of Baimaling specifically circled.

Zhao Weiguo looked at that name.