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

When the order for rest and recuperation was posted in Taiyuan, the railway repair shed was still dismantling the armored car with its overheated engine.

The public order was written in great detail.

Each unit underwent three months of training in Shanxi.

The injured were re-examined for their grade.

The vehicles, artillery, and captured items were inspected one by one.

The takeover of city defenses, railways, armories, and residential areas continues.

The order was real. Taiyuan had just completed its first round of takeover, and the city did indeed need people to stay behind and do repairs. The orders were read aloud on the public radio, training grounds were staffed as usual, and the granary seals and hospital beds were handed over as scheduled.

Next to the notice at the city gate, three new forms were posted.

One sheet listed the spring training schedule, another the vehicle overhaul order, and the last sheet listed the dates for the wounded's follow-up examinations. What passersby saw were the target stands that had been re-erected on the training ground, the broken-down cars lined up in a semicircle outside the repair shed, and the bandages drying under the hospital wall. Even the radio operator in charge of the public broadcast only received a revised draft, which he read aloud twice a day, morning and evening, and had to rewrite if he mispronounced a single word.

Some felt three months was too long, and that after the Battle of Taiyuan, they should press their advantage; others, upon hearing of a rest period, first touched the worn-out soles of their shoes. When the orders reached the various battalions, there were both complaints and relief. Cooks began counting salt, quartermasters went to measure the warehouses, and carpenters asked how many more gun racks were needed at the training ground. The only deductions the enemy could make from these movements were false; every task below had to be done genuinely.

However, a map of Beiping (Beijing) had appeared on the back wall of the operations room.

After reading the telegram from Beiping, Zhao Gang asked a question.

How many will remain in Taiyuan?

Zhao Weiguo spread out the four-column transfer form.

The northbound group has approximately 52,000 members.

The Independent Regiment has 14,500 officially combat personnel.

Seven thousand five hundred people passed the training assessment.

22,000 friendly neighbors collaborated.

Local transportation and sanitation costs 8,000.

The remaining approximately 56,000 continued to defend Taiyuan, Jinzhong, industrial sites, railways, warehouses, hospitals, military outposts, and the area around Chiyabao. The northward advance did not include the newly captured cities, nor were all 108,400 troops recorded as a single marching column.

Old Zhou stared at the number 52,000.

"With so many people leaving Taiyuan, how could Okamura not see them?"

"So we don't go through just one door."

The secret order was broken into multiple copies, each containing only the mission details, rendezvous point, departure time, next outpost, and pick-up order. The vanguard knew the first two sections of the route, the artillery only knew the artillery vehicle locations, and the transport team only knew what to deliver and where to deliver it. No single piece of paper carried the complete route throughout the entire journey.

The seven supply depots were prepared in advance with food, water, medicine, horse feed, and batteries. Each depot only stored the amount needed for its own section, ensuring that supplies could continue even if the previous depot was discovered. Heavy artillery, wounded soldiers, radios, and fuel vehicles were given priority, and infantry moved in batches at night.

The supply depot roster must not simply state "fully prepared." Grain bags must be weighed, wells must specify how many buckets can be drawn per day, horse feed must be reduced to account for the needs of local livestock, and the recipient of the medicine chest after it is opened must be named. The third section of the road is the narrowest, so fewer heavy carts should be placed there, and more ropes and logs should be prepared; for the fifth section crossing the river, empty boats and poles should be distributed to both banks first; for the seventh section, which is close to the war zone, only two days' worth of dry rations should be left, and large stacks of grain that are immediately apparent in size should not be piled up.

Zhao Gang checked each column one by one and saw a sign that read "Water supply is plentiful," so he drew a black line under it.

How many wells?

The person in charge couldn't answer.

"Go back and count them. Count the buckets too. If 50,000 people are thirsty, the word 'sufficient' won't save their lives."

Zhao Tieshan handed over the equipment list.

Armored vehicles with overheated engines continue to be disassembled and inspected; they cannot proceed north.

The water tank patching vehicle and the tire changing vehicle can only be used for short distances and should remain with the following convoy for inspection at each station along the way.

The third vehicle failed the clutch test and remained in Taiyuan.

The mountain gun's broken wheel is being replaced, so it will not depart for the time being. The remaining artillery pieces will depart in batches, with the breechblocks and ammunition transported separately.

"We need cannons outside Beiping," Old Zhou said.

"The cannons need to reach the city walls," Zhao Tieshan replied. "Bringing broken carts and cannons onto the road will only block the bridge."

We also went through the list of the injured first.

Those who could return to their units needed a medical report; lightly armed personnel stayed at the military post, while those hospitalized remained in Taiyuan. Some, hearing of the northward march, applied to change their destination based on old injuries. The medic re-examined them; if the wounds hadn't healed, they hadn't healed, and no matter how well-written the application was, it couldn't replace walking.

A soldier from the First Battalion tried to sneak into the departure list by hiding bandages in his cotton trousers. Old Zhou personally pulled him out of the queue.

"I'll also go to Beiping and save you a spot. First, get your legs back in shape."

The soldier's eyes were red, and he said he could walk. Old Zhou handed his luggage to the medical team and didn't let him return to the ranks.

The bundle was very light, containing a change of clothes, half a bar of soap, and a pair of newly made cloth shoes. The soldier reached out to grab it, but as soon as he exerted force, blood seeped from his wound into his trouser leg. He looked down and saw it; his hand froze in mid-air, and the tough look on his face vanished.

Old Zhou didn't scold him anymore, he just stuffed the cloth shoes back into his luggage roll.

"Wear these to pick me up when I get back."

As the medics helped people away, no one in the queue looked back. Everyone tightened their grip on their guns. Those who stayed were distressed, and those who left were not at ease either. Once the words "Beiping" were written on the list, someone had to cross their own name off.

The local transport and medical personnel, numbering eight thousand, were scattered across seven supply depots and the rear of each column, not forming a single long column. Drivers, stretcher bearers, medicine kits, road-building tools, and cooking teams each had their own checkpoints. If a checkpoint was missed, those at the back might not get food.

The 22,000 troops from neighboring units retained their original unit designation and command. Zhao Weiguo only unified the priorities regarding time, routes, supplies, and collaborative objectives.

The biggest problem is in Chu Yunfei's defense zone.

All three northward routes passed through his temporary control line. Detouring would add dozens of kilometers and could expose the convoy. Forcing a crossing was even more impossible; both sides had just jointly taken control of Taiyuan, and any misunderstanding could turn the secret order into an open conflict.

Zhao Weiguo wrote a formal letter of collaboration.

The letter did not mention arresting Okamura, nor did it demand that the entire defense zone be opened. It only listed three designated passages, four time windows, vehicle identification methods, and disciplinary requirements.

Grain requisitioning is prohibited in villages.

You must not intercept the other party's grain supply.

The temporary boundary line must not be crossed.

If the troops operate according to their original unit numbers, any wounded soldiers or broken-down vehicles will be handed over in person at the liaison point.

After the letter was sent out, the operations room waited for six hours.

Old Zhou walked back and forth, his shoes leaving gray marks on the ground.

What if he doesn't agree?

"Take the alternative route."

"A few days later?"

"At least two days."

"Then preparations can be made in Beiping."

Zhao Weiguo didn't say that Chu Yunfei would definitely agree. Transportation routes, supply depots, and timetables couldn't be relied upon on personal agreements; alternative routes had already been marked.

The reply slip was delivered in the evening.

Three designated passages were open for passage according to time slots. Chu Yunfei required each batch of troops to report their numbers at the entrance and exit, and vehicles were not allowed to park in the village. Grain trucks from neighboring countries were given priority to cross the bridge. The receipts did not contain empty phrases such as "no abnormalities found," but only the route, time, and the signatures of the liaison officers from both sides.

Zhao Gang finished reading it.

"He let them through."

"He only opened these three roads."

"That's enough."

Zhao Weiguo tucked the reply slip into the secret command book.

"That's enough. We still have to defend their own zones."

Attached to the receipt was a bridge deck load-bearing chart. The first passage was for infantry and light vehicles only, the second allowed single artillery vehicles to pass, the third was for neighboring supply wagons during the day, and northward-bound troops could only use it for two hours at night. Chu Yunfei clearly wrote down what he could provide and was unambiguous about what he couldn't.

Zhao Weiguo had the original vehicle sequence rearranged. Heavy artillery was moved to the second route, medical vehicles avoided the artillery's time slots, and the straggler recovery point was set up outside the boundary line. The initial clearance did not result in mixed formations; who was the sentry guarding which bridge, and who was in charge of which unit, were all still determined on paper.

Old Zhou looked at the train sequence, which had been revised three times, and clicked his tongue.

"A letter saves me dozens of miles of travel. But I'll owe him a favor in the end."

"Remember it on the way," Zhao Weiguo said. "Don't just say it."

Chu Yunfei didn't hand over the passage either.

Before the first column arrived, the 358th Regiment cleared the bridge and checked vehicle identification plates. Each time a column passed, the number of personnel, artillery vehicles, and vehicles carrying wounded soldiers were checked on the spot. Someone tried to feed the mules by the roadside, but was herded to a designated open area by the liaison officer.

Sun Ming asked Chu Yunfei.

"Should we leave a team to follow and watch?"

"Watch the passage, don't follow the troops."

"Are they really going to Beiping?"

Chu Yunfei folded Zhao Weiguo's letter back into the envelope.

"He didn't write it. We didn't ask."

The first batch of troops set off at dusk.

Training continued within Taiyuan city. Recovery teams remained at the training grounds, vehicle dismantling continued at the repair sheds, and public radio broadcasts continued announcing a three-month rest period. Departing troops dispersed through the east and south gates and along railway branch lines, without banners or marching in formation through the main street.

The last thing the cooks distributed was hard flatbread and pickled vegetables. Some people broke the flatbread in half and stuffed it into their chests, while others, reluctant to let their new straw sandals get muddy, hung them on their shoulders and left the city in their old shoes. The foreman checked each person's water canteen, and if he found one empty, he herded them back to the well. The evening air was filled with coal smoke and the smell of livestock sweat; no one shouted slogans, only the occasional creak of a cart axle would be heard, and someone would immediately rush over with an oil canister.

Several wounded soldiers remained standing in the shadows of the city gate. The soldier who had hidden his bandages earlier was also there, leaning against the wall, not trying to squeeze into the ranks. He recognized his platoon, opened his mouth, but ultimately only raised his fist. The platoon leader nudged him across the ranks. Neither of them spoke, nor did they stop walking.

The vanguard consisted of two artillery pieces, the main force of four, and the rearguard of two. The remaining artillery pieces remained in Taiyuan and along the line. Ammunition was pre-positioned at the supply depots, and no one was to carry the entire group's shells for seven days.

The monk led a reconnaissance team to check bridges, ferry crossings, telephone poles, and enemy scouts. They only reported routes and did not arrest unrelated personnel. Duan Peng was in charge of the rearguard and containment; anyone who fell behind, was sick, had broken-down vehicles, or was wounded mules were all sent to the nearest supply depot, and they could not be abandoned by the roadside because of time constraints.

Old Zhou's battalion marched as the vanguard. Before leaving the city, he glanced back at the Taiyuan city gate.

"They just took it down, and then they retreated."

Zhao Gang said.

"There are still more than 50,000 people in the city."

"I know that. It's just that my feet haven't warmed up yet."

On the first night, a maximum number of soldiers could enter the same section of the road, with each column staggered by two to four hours. Artillery vehicles would cross the narrow bridge first, infantry would detour via a side road, and medical vehicles would proceed only after the road was confirmed.

At night, the first pass receipt arrived at the front desk.

Chu Yunfei's defense zone has passed the first checkpoint; the number of personnel, vehicles, and vehicles carrying the wounded match up. The second batch is on its way; the rearguard has not yet left the outskirts of Taiyuan.

The second reply came half an hour late. No one was detained at the sentry post; instead, a gun carriage had its wheel rims loosened in front of the bridge. The neighboring guards didn't rush them or force the following vehicles to squeeze in; instead, they brought a bucket of water to cool the rims. The Independent Regiment's repairmen re-inserted the wedges, and the liaison officers from both sides squatted under the lampshade to adjust the passage times. The grain wagons on the other side of the bridge crossed first, followed by the gun carriage alone. With each creak of the wooden planks, the hearts of those nearby tightened.

Once the wheels reached the other side, the officer guarding the bridge stamped the receipt. He handed the inkpad back, his fingers red from the cold.

"The next group shouldn't arrive too early. The bridge needs a 15-minute break."

The liaison officer nodded and wrote the sentence down on the reply slip. So-called tacit understanding, when applied to the bridge, meant only being willing to give way for a quarter of an hour, rather than gambling the lives of thousands on a single plank.

Zhao Weiguo touched the small bronze star on the inside of the left collar insignia; the stitching was still tight.

"Follow the steps."

The telephone operator waited for the next sentence.

"Meet me on the outskirts of Beiping in seven days."

Zhao Weiguo rolled up the map of Beiping and stuffed it into the map tube. Chu Yunfei's reply was still pressed on the back of the map, and the ink on the bridge load chart was still wet.

As he walked out of the operations room, the last batch of artillery vehicles were leaving through the south gate, the sound of their axles echoing in the night as they drove further and further away.