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

At dawn on August 28th, the camp flag at Dongshiqiao was raised.

Heshun Valley didn't have a large parade ground. Thirty thousand men couldn't be deployed, nor should they. Zhao Weiguo didn't want a grand display; he wanted the troops in place. The battalion flag was planted at the east stone bridgehead, and a twenty-kilometer review line stretched along the valley, with a communication point set up at intervals for cavalry to relay orders. Those standing at the west end couldn't see the reviewing stand at the east end, nor hear the regimental headquarters' commands. They watched as the flags moved forward, the troops followed, and when the flags fell to the ground, the entire column stopped.

Zhao Gang stood behind a square table at the head of the bridge, on which were four ledgers.

He opened the first book. The Independent Regiment was officially in force, numbering 15,500. The second book, on training and replenishment, stated that 7,500 who failed the night march, live-fire, and first aid tests were to remain in the rear and not be included in today's count. The third book, on local armed forces and county/district mobile units, listed 4,500, each to guard their own area and not to cross borders for pursuit. The fourth book, on friendly neighborly cooperation, listed 2,500, with Li Yunlong, Ding Wei, and Kong Jie each drawing a portion for cooperation, not to be merged into the main force.

The four books together cost 30,000.

Zhao Gang stacked the four ledgers together and tied them with a red string. The numbers were all correct, and the accounts were not mixed up. He wrote a line on the cover: "30,000 is today's dispatch number, not the official number of personnel in the Independent Regiment." Without this line, tomorrow's documents would have an extra 30,000 personnel. It's easy for numbers to grow on paper, but difficult to shrink them back down.

Zhao Weiguo stood at the bridgehead. He was seventeen years old, but no one noticed his age when he stood there. The banners of 30,000 men fluttered behind him. The valley was filled with infantry battalions lined up, cavalry horses snorted in the distance, and artillery mules carrying mountain gun parts stood on the ridges.

"Today, I have 30,000 men under my command." Zhao Weiguo's voice wasn't loud, but it echoed far through the valley. "The officially organized force remains at 15,500. The unit designation remains unchanged: Independent Regiment, with the highest rank being battalion. The main force group written into the orders today will withdraw after the battle ends."

No one uttered a sound. What the 30,000 people heard were the four words, "Unit number unchanged." These four words meant: After the war, you are still who you are; you won't gain an extra star just because you're standing here today.

Old Zhou stood beside the ranks of the First Main Force Group. His left shoulder was slinged, preventing him from carrying a rifle, but he could still stand. Next to him was Battalion Commander Sun, a man in his early thirties with an old scar on his face, a shrapnel wound from the Taihang Mountains last year.

"Leave a 300-step gap in the southwest corner." Old Zhou drew a line on the ground with a twig. "The door is open; there's someone behind it."

Battalion Commander Sun squatted down and examined the line. "Three out of three, one short?"

"A three-sided encirclement with one gap is for them to run around. This is for show," Old Zhou pointed to the gap with a twig. "If they see there's an opening here, they won't fight desperately from other places. With the opening open, their soldiers will pour in, and then the people behind the gate will close it."

Battalion Commander Sun nodded. He had fought tough battles, but never one where someone deliberately left a loophole. Old Zhou noticed and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't rush. Encirclement isn't a siege. First, build the fortifications, then close the gap." Old Zhou broke off a tree branch and threw it away. "Send 6,000 men from the twelve battalions first. Place 4,200 at the front, and 1,800 at the rear, rotating to fill positions on the two main lines to deliver ammunition and the wounded. Your battalion is on the first line of the front. Don't charge too aggressively. If you rush in before the fortifications are even built, that's not encirclement, that's feeding the enemy."

Battalion Commander Sun grinned. "Battalion Commander Zhou, don't worry."

"I'm worried," Old Zhou glanced at him. "That scar on your face is from a sudden, violent attack."

Battalion Commander Sun touched the scar on his face and said nothing more. He wrote down the words "There's someone behind the door" in his notebook, the pen tip leaving a dent in the paper.

Meanwhile, Duan Peng was busy on the other side. He was commanding the Second Main Force Group, about nine thousand men, consisting of eight infantry battalions and cavalry. Their mission was to advance in batches into the eastern and western river valleys to intercept reinforcements, cut off communications, and block retreat routes.

"No more than one-third of the workforce should be deployed in the first round," Zhao Weiguo said to Duan Peng. "Three thousand people will go in first. The bridge will remain untouched for now."

Duan Peng was looking at the map, not even looking up. "The bridge won't move? What if they escape?"

"They'll only dare to cross if the bridge is intact." Zhao Weiguo pointed to the bridge with his finger. "If you blow up the bridge, they won't cross; they'll turn around and retreat back to their stronghold, and then you'll have to take them down by force. If you leave the bridge open, they'll try to squeeze onto it. Blow it up halfway across."

Duan Peng chuckled. "Same trick as Jingxing."

"In Jingxing, they burned down warehouses. This time, they burned down people." Zhao Weiguo didn't laugh.

Duan Peng stopped laughing. He looked down at the bridge on the map, circled its location with a pencil, and wrote three words next to it: "For use as bait."

The monk's 2,500-strong reserve force was hidden in the mountains behind the two roads. Special forces, guards, and mobile reinforcements were mixed together, tasked with blocking gaps, protecting the regimental headquarters, and intercepting radio communications. The monk squatted under a pine tree, wiping his knife, the blade reflecting his face.

"There's no third main force flag today," Zhao Weiguo said as he walked over.

The monk looked up at him. "I know. My men aren't used as the main force, but as nails. They're used where there's a gap."

Zhao Weiguo nodded and left. The monk watched his retreating figure and clicked his tongue. He'd never liked crouching in the back since he was a child; his hands were born to wield knives, not to clean them. But if Zhao Weiguo said he was a nail, then he would be a nail. Nails don't need a bugle call; they need to silently embed themselves in the most vulnerable spots, only revealing their blade when someone makes a mistake.

There was trouble on the transport line. A bullock cart loaded with machine gun ammunition got stuck in a dry ditch, its wheels wedged between two rocks. The eleven carts behind it were all blocked; the mules were braying, the oxen wouldn't move, and the driver was squatting by the roadside smoking.

Battalion Commander Ma, a man in his forties who had spent many years in mule and horse transport, squatted by the ditch for a while and cursed.

"Unload the ammunition and move to an empty mule cart."

Ammunition boxes were unloaded from the oxcart one by one and loaded onto the empty mule cart next to it. With the oxcart empty and lighter, four soldiers chanted as they lifted the wheels out of the cracks in the rocks. The whole process took half an hour. Battalion Commander Ma ordered the two rocks to be smashed to prevent the next cart from getting stuck.

"With 30,000 men fighting, a single oxcart can block the entire supply line." Zhao Gang jotted this down and then instructed the communications soldier to notify the other two supply lines to inspect the road conditions. The transport of 1,800 men was divided into three lines, and the condition of the vehicles, the road surface, and the supply points on each line all needed to be checked. One oxcart stuck wasn't a big deal, but if three oxcarts were stuck on three lines at the same time, the front lines would run out of ammunition on the sixth day.

The support system comprises approximately 7,500 personnel. Medical personnel number 700, operating three aid stations. Sulfonamide supplies are insufficient; the seriously wounded will be prioritized. Engineers number 1,000. Communications personnel number 500. If any main force group is out of contact with the regimental headquarters for more than half an hour, contingency plans will be followed; waiting for orders is not permitted. Artillery and ammunition support personnel number 1,200, with twelve mountain guns arranged in three columns. Mountain gun ammunition is minimal; targets will only be engaged if confirmed.

Zhao Tieshan inventoried the equipment delivered in the past month: thirty mortars and sixty grenade launchers. Repaired, captured and refurbished, and domestically produced and assembled equipment were mixed together. He forbade all of them to be labeled "newly made." Less than a third of them were newly made; the rest were refurbished old equipment. Ammunition was issued on a seven-day basis, and a decision on resupply or withdrawal had to be made on the sixth day.

"If we don't decide by the sixth day, we'll run out of ammunition by the seventh day and have to resort to gnawing on it," Zhao Tieshan told Zhao Gang. Zhao Gang wrote this into the battle order.

Zhao Tieshan also raised another issue: two of the twelve mountain guns had severely worn wheel bearings, which would cause problems on long-distance missions. He suggested that these two guns remain stationary at the artillery position, only providing direct fire support. Zhao Weiguo agreed. The ten mobile guns were divided into three groups, four gun positions, and the firing tables were not allowed to be filled with whole numbers. Zhao Tieshan's original words were, "Whole numbers are for superiors to see, decimals are for the artillerymen to fire."

Zhao Weiguo stood before the enemy situation map for a long time. The enemy's main force numbered about 18,000, scattered across five counties, the railway, mining areas, and two highways. Isolated strongholds held about 900 men, surrounded by barbed wire and three pillboxes. The fastest reinforcements would be two battalions, with the first wave mostly advancing through the East River Valley.

"Surround the stronghold for three days first." Zhao Weiguo drew a circle around the outpost with a pencil. "Bombard the outer outposts and empty fortifications, but not the city walls. This indicates the troop strength is controlled at around two thousand."

"Two thousand?" Duan Peng frowned. "Two thousand to surround nine hundred people? What if they break out in the night?"

"It would be best if they broke through." Zhao Weiguo drew an arrow at the southwest gap. "Let the southwest gap open if possible, but don't chase them. Let them escape; those who escape will bring back news that the stronghold is surrounded, the forces are small, and the southwest is an escape route. When the news reaches the reinforcements, they will come from the southwest."

Duan Peng understood. The purpose of besieging the stronghold wasn't to devour it whole, but to make the people inside cry for help. The more desperately they cried, the more fish would come.

"Duan Peng will enter the valley tonight." Zhao Weiguo turned to him. "First, cut off the phone lines, then seal off the junction. Leave the bridge as a lure. If the enemy actually crowds onto the bridge, then bomb it. The three neighboring units will each take over one outer ring mission line. Li Yunlong will create disturbances on the north side, Ding Wei will monitor the eastern section of the railway, and Kong Jie will guard Yangshuling. Do not enter the Independent Regiment's internal command chain."

Zhao Gang added a note at the end of the order: "Casualties and spoils of friendly forces shall be recorded separately and not included in the Independent Regiment's ledger." This rule had been in place since last year: cooperation was acceptable, but inconsistency was not. Each person died for their own cause, each person kept their own record, and after the battle, everyone went home.

Zhao Gang added another rule: "Ammunition transport should be prioritized, wounded transport should be prioritized, and prisoner transport routes should be separated as much as possible. Empty return vehicles must pick up the wounded." This rule was suggested by Yang Xiuqin last year during the withdrawal from Jingxing. An empty vehicle drove past the wounded without stopping, causing them to walk an extra three miles to reach the aid station. When Zhao Gang wrote this rule into the order, Yang Xiuqin was at the aid station counting sulfanilamide. Sulfanilamide was insufficient; priority was given to the seriously wounded, moderately wounded were treated in rotation, and minor wounds were treated with saline solution. She attached a red paper strip to the medicine box with four characters written on it: "Severe cases first, minor cases later."

The afternoon review wasn't a marching procession past the reviewing stand. The battalion flags were lowered in order, and the troops split up and set off. There was no military music, no slogans; the 30,000 men quietly dispersed from the valley, like water poured from a basin into sand, seeping in quickly until they disappeared from sight.

Zhao Gang stood at the bridgehead, watching the last column disappear behind the ridge. He held four ledgers in his hands, the red ropes on the covers swaying in the wind. Thirty thousand men had risen from the pages of paper today, but whether they could actually stand together remained to be seen over the next three days.

As night fell, the battalion flags along the 20-kilometer review line were lowered one by one. When the last flag fell, only Zhao Weiguo, Zhao Gang, and a few staff officers remained in the valley.

Zhao Weiguo walked to the map and pushed three chess pieces.

One isolated outpost, now in the circle. One each in the east and west river valleys.

Gardenia sent over the listening log: "The base's radio was turned on three times tonight. Each time it lasted no more than two minutes."

Zhao Weiguo looked at the three chess pieces. The fishing line went into the water. The fish hadn't taken the bait yet.

Three days later, the stronghold of nine hundred people will become a net. There will be a door at the entrance of the net, and people will be behind the door.