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

By the time they arrived at Wangjiaping, the communications officer on the train was already delirious from the fever.

As dusk fell, two trucks stopped one after the other at the entrance to the mountain road. The cabs were covered in a thick layer of dust, and white pebbles from the riverbed were embedded in the tire treads. The last stretch of the uphill road was difficult to navigate; the radiators steamed continuously, and the drivers had to get out every so often to refill them. As soon as the trucks came to a stop, the people in the back began unloading: five document bags, two captured shortwave radios, a first-aid kit, tools, and half-eaten dry rations—everything was there.

The first checkpoint checked people, the second checked the seals. The Yan'an Guard Battalion dispatched a company to guard the outer perimeter, weapons and ammunition were re-registered, and vehicles could only be parked outside the cave dwelling area. The twelve liaison guards brought by Zhao Weiguo were also not allowed to wander around; whoever was called upon could cross that earthen embankment.

The monk called out the seventh name, but no one answered.

He turned his head and saw the communications officer leaning against the side of the cart, his face flushed red, clutching the duty roster tightly in his hand. The medic touched his forehead, cursed, and immediately called for a stretcher. The man refused to let go, muttering the number of the second radio station. He misread two digits in the middle, then gritted his teeth and started reading again from the beginning.

"Alright." Zhao Weiguo pulled out the paper. "Let's go to the restroom."

The communications officer looked up and it took him a while to recognize him.

"The duty roster hasn't been submitted."

"First, please provide a clear list of patient numbers."

The man tried to stand up straight, but his legs wouldn't obey him. The monk supported his arm, still grumbling, "You're burning up so badly you almost don't recognize your own mother, and you're still thinking about the radio. If you weren't here to watch over it for a night, would it grow legs and run away on its own?"

The communications officer was put on a stretcher, but he still tilted his head to look at the frequency bag on the vehicle.

The sanitation station was less than two hundred steps from the parking area. Reaching the entrance, he grabbed the sanitation worker's sleeve again, asking if the seal should be folded inwards. The sanitation worker was completely confused and could only turn back and call to the monk. The monk chased after him, holding the sealed bag up to the light so he could see the seal and number.

"That's right. Ancestor, I'll watch over things for you."

The man finally lay down, his hand still resting on the edge of the bed, his fingers bent, just like he usually did with a piezoelectric switch.

The medic asked how long the fever had lasted and what medications the monk had taken along the way, but he couldn't answer. The driver, however, remembered. He had taken two pills before crossing the Yellow River, and started feeling cold in the afternoon. His last shift was before changing vehicles. It took several people, each contributing their own information, to fill out the patient form completely.

The original duty section couldn't be left scrambling along with the sick soldier. The guard battalion sent a communications soldier, and the two sides handed over the radios under the headlights. The outer casing seal, spare batteries, and frequency bags were all handled one by one. The name of the feverish communications soldier was transferred to the medical form, and the replacement was written in the handover column. The total number was still twelve, but the person in charge had changed.

Zhao Weiguo signed his name in the replacement column. His hands, at eighteen years old, were covered in calluses, and his right shoulder was still stiff when he held the pen. The medic had just checked his pulse and wanted him to lie down for half the night, but he pretended not to hear and only left the words "old injury, fatigue, follow-up examination the next day" on the registration sheet.

The security officer who came to pick him up waited until he finished writing before saying, "The commander-in-chief is in the operations room; he's been waiting for you for a while."

"Send the five document bags to the confidential office first. Whoever receives them, give me a receipt."

The guard glanced at him and smiled, "That's what the boss ordered too. When you two meet, the first thing you'll do is compare whose accounts are more detailed."

The kerosene lamp in the cave dwelling wasn't very bright; the wick burned too long, occasionally crackling and releasing a wisp of black smoke. The national map on the table was spread out very wide. Several cities in North China were marked with red thumbtacks, a white one sat next to Chongqing, and only a pencil dot marked the northeast, without an arrow.

The boss sat behind the table and first noticed the dirt on Zhao Weiguo's chest, then the stack of receipts in his hand.

"Was the journey smooth?"

"Six checkpoints, one medicine kit resealed, fourth checkpoint vehicle changed. The communications officer has a high fever and has been sent to a medical station; a replacement has been sent to Yan'an. The handover of the two radios is complete."

The boss's eyebrows twitched slightly: "I'm asking you if things are going smoothly."

"Isn't it all about what happened on the road?"

The boss pointed at the chair and chuckled, "You've been hanging out with Zhao Gang for too long, you're starting to talk like a blabbermouth. Sit down and settle the accounts first."

Zhao Weiguo didn't mention what flag had been raised over Beiping, nor did he mention Okamura's expression when he was taken away. He laid out five file folders on the table; some of the paper edges were frayed, some had watermarks, but the seals were all intact.

The first document was a summary of the handover of the five cities, with a page for railway stations attached. It detailed which warehouses in Beiping, Tianjin, Baoding, Shijiazhuang, and Zhangjiakou were sealed, who had the keys, which sections of railway were still closed, and who was waiting for transfer in hospitals. The surrender site registered 11,864 people, including representatives, guards, artillerymen, engineers, medical personnel, and takeover staff; it couldn't be broken down into several separate accounts of merit.

The second document was a troop movement table. The war zone had approximately 121,000 troops available for deployment, while the main force of 100,000 troops in North China was still stationed in the five cities, along the railway, supply depots, and local defense lines. Zhao Gang first returned to Taiyuan to take over the general headquarters and temporarily manage the daily military and political affairs of the Independent Regiment. Zhao Weiguo came to Yan'an without a single organized unit; he was only accompanied by the twelve men outside the door.

The third document was a list of wounded soldiers. Those who could return to their units, those still hospitalized, those awaiting transfer, and those destined for rear-area work were listed separately. The Baoding Hospital had 376 wounded soldiers from our side, and 127 wounded Japanese soldiers were listed separately. Each name was followed by the location of the injury, the destination, and the date of the follow-up examination. As the paper was being turned, the commander's hand paused on one page. On that page was a young artilleryman, both legs amputated, with the destination column marked "awaiting resettlement."

He didn't ask how many enemies the man had killed, only, "Has your family notified you?"

"The messenger has already set off. The compensation will be handled according to the existing procedures for now; Zhao Gang is still looking for a job afterward."

The boss flattened the page and told the confidential clerk to add a line next to it: "Report again after receipt."

The fourth document was a list of military equipment. Eighteen machine tools and three hundred and twenty-seven measuring instruments were scattered across three locations. Coking coal, iron ore, steel billets, raw material inventory, and dispersed workshops hadn't been moved along with their superiors. Zhao Tieshan oversaw the industrial chain, while Lao Zhou managed artillery training. For any equipment to be moved, both the technical team and the supply team had to sign off.

The fifth document, the thinnest, is a copy of Okamura's record of being captured.

The clerks meticulously documented the documents, page by page, while Zhao Weiguo relayed the locations of the originals. The troop inventory was in Taiyuan, the original military production records followed the three storage locations, the original documents for the wounded and their compensation remained at the regimental headquarters, and the original documents for the takeover of prisoners of war remained in Beiping. What Yan'an received were summaries and copies for decision-making purposes. Even if he were to fall into a ditch along the way, the various locations in North China wouldn't be rendered inoperable simply because one person was missing.

After listening, the boss put the thin record of the capture at the bottom.

"Settle accounts first, then talk about saving face. If Okamura stands there bowing his head, the commotion will only last a few days. Whether Kumen is guarded, whether the railway can operate, whether the wounded have medicine—these things won't disappear."

As Zhao Weiguo leaned back in his chair, his right shoulder throbbed with pain. He quickly sat up straight again and pressed his hand under his clothes. The boss noticed but didn't confront him directly; instead, he pushed the bowl of cold rice porridge from the corner of the table towards him.

A thin skin had formed on the rice water, and it tasted slightly burnt. Zhao Weiguo took a few sips before noticing a chip in the rim of the bowl. He turned the bowl to the other side to avoid cutting his mouth.

"Leave a force of 100,000 in North China, and I'll take twelve men to Yan'an." The commander tapped the troop strength chart with his knuckles. "What if someone intercepts you on the way?"

"Twelve people will escort documents, radios, and evacuation points. The outer perimeter will be handled by supply depots and local garrisons along the route. If a large armed force is encountered, retreat to the nearest relay point; the escort team should not be built into a combat battalion."

"You're really something."

"The railway, warehouses, hospitals, and military production lines have just been taken over. If I send people to put on a show, they'll have to use wounded soldiers and workers to fill the gaps. By then, Okamura will have been caught, but the warehouse doors will have been pried open by someone else, and I'll be blocked at the door by Zhao Gang when I get back."

The boss snorted and pushed a telegram over.

A Kuomintang force south of Beiping requested "assistance in escorting" the convoy, but first needed to know the train numbers, the complete route, the accompanying list, the deployment of guards in North China, and the locations of available troops. The handwriting was meticulous, and the letter was politely stamped at the end. Zhao Weiguo's finger stopped on the words "complete route" when he read the third line.

"How much?" the boss asked.

"The delegation's route only reported the next relay point. Train numbers were determined on the fly. The total number of the twelve guards was reported, but not who was in which train. The radio station verified the serial numbers and seals. Not a single word was given about the location of the main force in North China."

"They won't let us through?"

"Proceed in segments. Each segment is the responsibility of a specific person; this should be written on the travel permit. If a vehicle is impounded at the first stop, it shouldn't depart for the next. If people are impounded, report it to Yan'an. Damaged vehicles can be replaced, but documents and personnel cannot be separated."

The boss asked again, "Are you really going to fire?"

Zhao Weiguo didn't answer immediately. He lowered his head and took a sip of rice soup; the rice grains at the bottom of the bowl had already swelled up.

"Retreat from the outpost first. If they dare to fire on the official delegation, we'll wait for further orders. I can't start a fight on the roadside before we even get to the negotiating table."

The boss neither praised nor nodded. He wrote a few lines in the blank space of the telegram and told the clerk to take it away. Someone passed by outside the cave with a meal, the rough porcelain bowl clinking against the wooden tray. Zhao Weiguo smelled millet and pickled vegetables, and his stomach growled. He subconsciously pressed his hand against it, and the boss looked up at him, but he acted as if nothing had happened.

Footsteps came from the neighboring cave. The Grand Elder entered, accompanied only by a guard. He first asked if the feverish communications officer's fever had subsided, then inquired whether any of the five documents were missing seals, and finally looked at Zhao Weiguo.

"Is the matter in Beiping settled?"

"The surrender ceremony is over. The five cities are still under takeover; there are people refusing to surrender at the Zhangjiakou pass; the Tianjin railway bridge has just been built; and the loose ammunition in the Beiping artillery depot hasn't been numbered yet."

"Okamura's been caught, and the flag has been changed. Want to go back?"

Zhao Weiguo touched his breast pocket. The small copper star and the registered coded telegram were both inside, the corner of the paper digging into his fingers through his clothes.

"I do. If I don't go back soon, Zhao Gang's accounts will be so bad that he'll send telegrams all the way from Taiyuan to Yan'an cursing me."

The elder sat down at the other end of the map: "You won't be allowed to return this time."

A confidential clerk delivered a transfer order. The public portion clearly stated: Zhao Weiguo was to join the security group of the delegation to Chongqing, responsible for escorting personnel along the route, handling documents and radio communications, and maintaining order during the evacuation. The main force from North China would not be transferred, and he would not overstep his authority to command negotiators. The previously sealed statement, "The Central Military Commission has other arrangements," was finally revealed.

"Whom are you protecting?" Zhao Weiguo asked.

"Protect the delegation," the Grand Elder looked at him, "and protect our right to sit at the negotiating table."

Zhao Weiguo did not respond.

"Some people in Chongqing will use inspections to make things difficult for you, make trouble over the number of guards, and they'll also hope you get angry first. If you end up fighting with someone on this path, then those five accounts from North China will have been wasted."

The transfer order was just a single sheet of paper, with a red stamp in the lower right corner right next to the words "Chongqing". Zhao Weiguo looked at it for a while, then turned the paper over; the back was blank.

"What is my jurisdiction?"

"Safety chain. Don't interfere with anything discussed at the table; each section of the troops has its own commander. You can make alert requests, but you can't give orders on their behalf. If danger arises, prioritize saving lives, then documents and radios."

What about the Northeast?

The elder glanced at the black dot on the map.

"It's not time to give the order yet."

The pencil mark remained just a dot. Nobody bothered to add an arrow to it.

The staff officer then spread out three railway timetables and arranged the receipts sent from Beiping and the relay schedule from Chongqing side by side. The signed receipts from Beiping to Shijiazhuang and from Shijiazhuang to Xi'an were kept for verification; from Yan'an southward, the relay sections were reorganized. Each section only marked the stations for receiving the train, changing oil, checking personnel, and signing receipts; the complete train numbers were not listed on the same sheet of paper, and the relay stations only knew the two stations before and after them.

The first leg is escorted by the Yan'an guards to the relay point. The second leg depends on what vehicles the Xi'an transportation station can dispatch. The third leg, after heading towards Chongqing, may involve changes to the route, driver, and password. Each time a vehicle is changed, the twelve guards, mission personnel, five document bags, and two radios all need to be recounted. Who arrives first and who arrives last cannot be simply dismissed as "accompanying personnel."

Fuel is also issued in sections. The previous station only provides enough fuel for the next station, with a portion reserved for the return trip. Drivers do not receive fuel tickets for the entire route. If a vehicle breaks down between two stations, the personnel and documents are transferred first, while the broken-down vehicle, tools, and repair records are left at the station for that section.

The logistics staff said that the gearbox of the second vehicle made a noise twice, and the inspection report said "still usable".

Zhao Weiguo asked, "How far can Shang possibly run?"

"Flat roads are fine, but long slopes are uncertain."

"Then write it as it is. On level ground, take turns; stop when the gearbox makes another noise. The first vehicle carries people and documents; the second carries dry rations, medicine, spare batteries, and tools."

"We haven't received the spare tire yet, and we only have one set of clutch plates."

"Write it too. It might be more useful than that sentence, even if it's missing something."

He added a note next to the second paragraph: When changing vehicles, check the documents first, then the people; when opening the radio, confidential personnel must be present.

Emerging from the operations room, the night wind blew up the mountain gully. The monk squatted at the entrance of the cave, eating, holding a bowl in one hand and clutching the supply depot's roster in the other. The bowl contained only millet porridge and two pickled vegetables. Upon seeing Zhao Weiguo, he quickly hid the vegetables at the bottom of the bowl, as if afraid someone would snatch them.

"The one with the fever woke up once," the monk said, a mouthful of porridge in his mouth. "His first question was whether the radio stations had misconnected."

"Tell him that's right. The names on the duty roster weren't erased either."

"I told you. He's asleep again."

The monk placed the bowl on his lap, took the transfer order, and looked at it for a long time. When he saw the words "do not overstep authority," he let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't understand how they fight on the table."

"You only need to know one thing." Zhao Weiguo folded the transfer order back to its original position. "The people, the documents, the radio—don't let anyone open them."

The monk stuffed the last piece of pickled vegetable into his mouth, stood up, and said, "Then I'll go check on the car first. If the gearbox really breaks down halfway, I don't care if it can negotiate or not."

Inside the cave dwelling, the boss had already begun rolling up a map of North China. When the paper reached Beiping, it got stuck on a thumbtack. He stopped, pulled out the thumbtack, and put it away separately in an iron box. The Grand Elder hadn't left; the Chongqing route map was still on the table.

When Zhao Weiguo turned around, the Grand Elder called out to him.

"You've won a battle."

A breeze blew through the ravine, causing the light by the door of the operations room to flicker twice.

"Next, we need to protect a table."

Zhao Weiguo stood at the door for a while, swallowing his words. He touched the small bronze star in his breast pocket, then turned and walked into the night.

Chongqing is on the other side of the map, and the table hasn't been set up yet. But he knows that the road from Yan'an to Chongqing is much more difficult than the road from Beiping to Yan'an.