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

The wind at the street corner swirled up coal dust, stinging people's faces.

Company Commander Zhou stared at the Mauser pistol, then at Zhao Weiguo's hand.

"Will you provide insurance?"

Zhao Weiguo flicked his thumb, and the machine head made a soft click.

Company Commander Zhou's lips twitched.

An old soldier next to him muttered a curse under his breath.

"This kid is weird."

Zhao Weiguo ignored it and glanced down at the gun. The wooden handle was polished to a shine, there were small dents on the slide, and the rifling was mostly worn down. It was okay for close-range shots, but at long range, it was a matter of luck.

Company Commander Zhou took a bridge clip out of his pocket and handed it over.

"Ten shots. If you really know how, don't waste bullets."

Zhao Weiguo took the clip, pressed the magazine with his thumb, and his movements were clean and efficient. The soldiers who had initially been there to watch the spectacle stopped laughing and craned their necks forward.

Company Commander Zhou pointed towards the alley entrance.

"That wooden sign, fifty paces."

"Let me try hitting one."

Outside the alley entrance, a crooked old wooden sign, salvaged from a shop, hangs by a half-wall, the two characters "Changshun" worn white by wind and rain.

Zhao Weiguo raised his gun, but didn't even aim for long.

Snapped.

The wooden sign trembled violently, and a small piece of wood splintered off one of its corners.

Several people on the street gasped simultaneously.

Company Commander Zhou's eyes darkened.

"Again."

Zhao Weiguo pressed the muzzle of his gun slightly, pointing it at a section of hemp rope hanging down from the wooden sign.

Snapped.

The rope broke, the wooden sign fell to the ground, raising a layer of dust.

Even the old blacksmiths fell silent.

Company Commander Zhou walked up to Zhao Weiguo, placed his rough hands on the gun, and didn't take it back.

"Who taught you that?"

"I figured it out myself."

"fart."

Company Commander Zhou grinned, revealing a set of teeth stained yellow from smoking.

"You figured it out on your own, and you can handle a gun like this?"

Zhao Weiguo lowered the muzzle of his gun and didn't respond to that sentence.

He knew that words were useless. In chaotic times, the real skills he possessed were more valuable than a hundred explanations.

Company Commander Zhou looked at him for a while, then suddenly shoved the remaining bridge clamps into his arms.

"Take it."

The soldiers nearby were stunned.

"Company commander, this is—"

"Shut up."

Company Commander Zhou turned his head and shouted, then turned back, lowering his voice.

"Zhao Weiguo, this knife saved my life today."

"I'll lend you the gun for self-defense. Use the bullets sparingly. If you starve to death in the alley later, I, Zhou Shichang, was blind."

Zhao Weiguo raised his eyes.

"borrow?"

Zhou Shichang snorted.

"If you're so capable, repair two more knives for me next time, and I'll give them to you as a gift."

Zhao Weiguo tucked the gun into his cotton-padded coat; the hard gun handle pressed against his ribs like a block of ice.

"OK."

Zhou Shichang grabbed the newly sharpened broadsword, swung it twice, the blade cutting through the air with a short, sharp sound.

Where do you live?

"Number 95, Nanluoguxiang".

"It's not far from here."

Zhou Shichang waved his hand behind him.

"Erhou, take the wounded to the infirmary. Lao Xu, you take two men and drag that pile of scrap metal out of the shop at the west end for this kid."

The soldier named Lao Xu was taken aback.

"Give it to him?"

"Give it to him."

Zhou Shichang kicked him in the butt.

"Are you deaf?"

Old Xu left cursing, and soon returned with two others carrying out a pile of rusty, red-hot iron pieces, pot bottoms, and broken shafts. A blue light flashed in Zhao Weiguo's eyes, and the system panel immediately lit up.

Recyclable metal resources detected

Whether it is absorbed

He didn't rush to move, but first looked at Zhou Shichang.

"You don't want these anymore?"

Zhou Shichang slung the back of the knife over his shoulder.

"What I need is a weapon that can kill people, not junk."

"If you can actually turn these things into something, then you'll be quite capable."

Zhao Weiguo nodded, placing his hand on the pile of scrap metal. The next second, the sack seemed to sink, and a section of the contents was missing. The soldiers, busy moving the wounded, hadn't looked closely, assuming he had packed it up quickly.

System prompts popped up in my mind line by line.

[Scrap steel + 8.3kg]

[Scrap steel + 6.1kg]

Current inventory: 34.7kg

Zhao Weiguo steadied his breathing, but his heart skipped a beat.

The first step has been taken, and we've laid a solid foundation.

Zhou Shichang squinted.

"You're not very strong, but you're quick with your hands."

Zhao Weiguo picked up the sack.

People who can't afford to eat are quick to act.

Upon hearing this, the faces of the surrounding soldiers froze for a moment.

Zhou Shichang was silent for a moment, then took out half a grain cake from his pocket. It was as hard as a brick, and threw it over.

"Take it."

Zhao Weiguo took it without hesitation, breaking off a small piece and stuffing it into his mouth. The crumbs scraped his throat, causing a sharp pain. He chewed a few times, then reached into his system space and took out a compressed military ration, handing it over under the cover of the burlap sack.

"Change."

Zhou Shichang frowned.

"What the hell?"

"Food."

Zhou Shichang broke off a piece, and as soon as he put it in his mouth, his eyes changed.

"Where did this come from?"

"A recipe passed down from my ancestors."

"Your ancestors were quite the braggarts."

Zhou Shichang cursed as he spoke, but he gripped the piece of military ration tightly in his hand. He didn't press the matter further; those who lead troops have an intuition, a sense of what to ask and what not to ask, and they all have a scale in their hearts.

"Zhao Weiguo".

"Um."

"Don't show this off in public."

"I know."

"And that gun."

Zhou Shichang held up two fingers and pointed them in front of his eyes.

"Don't use it against your own people."

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

"I only hit those who deserve it."

Zhou Shichang twitched the corner of his mouth, a gesture that resembled both a smile and grinding his teeth.

"become."

A group of soldiers carried the wounded soldier away, their footsteps crunching on the frozen bluestone slabs.

Zhao Weiguo stood there, carrying a sack and with a gun tucked into his arms.

The sky was already darkening, and a layer of lead-gray clouds pressed down on the other side of the Beiping city wall. The lanterns in the alley were not yet lit, and the wind blew out from the cracks in the bricks, making one's ears numb.

He turned and walked towards Nanluoguxiang.

As I passed through the alleyway, I saw several mischievous children making a ruckus around a stall. A chubby little boy with a bright red nose was holding an empty bowl and yelling at the old man selling soy milk.

"Give me another bite, and I'll have my dad pay the bill later."

The old man waved his spoon to shoo him away.

"Get lost, He Daqing's kid is trying to get a free drink again."

A tall, thin apprentice squatted by the wall, munching on a cornbread bun. He glanced up and saw the bulging outline in Zhao Weiguo's arms, and his eyelids twitched slightly.

"Wei Guo, what are you carrying in your coat?"