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

"From Yan'an to Chongqing, someone needs to be responsible for each section of the road."

The final stretch of the road ends on the track.

As the plane emerged from the clouds, everyone in the cabin looked out the windows. The mountains of Chongqing stretched out in layers, gray-white clouds pressing down on the mountainside, houses climbing the slopes, their distant rooftops completely obscured. Even before the plane had come to a complete stop, a wave of humid heat seeped in through the cabin door cracks. While Yan'an was already cool in the mornings and evenings, here it was so stuffy that one's shirt stuck to their back.

Chongqing Airport, early September 1945.

The delegation of about twenty people disembarked one by one. Documents were moved first, followed by luggage. Vehicles arranged by the Chongqing side were parked outside the cordon, and reception personnel, accommodations, telephones, and routes into the city were all prepared. Some people presented flowers, some shook hands, and cameras were even raised towards the gangway.

Zhao Weiguo did not look at the camera.

He counted the exits first, then the cars.

There were approximately one hundred military and police personnel on duty around the airport, with separate levels for the entrance, vehicle area, and passageways. The other party provided three vehicles, and the delegation's own spare vehicle was already parked in the Guiyuan parking garage. The twelve escort personnel were not included in the airport security. The lists of who was assigned to the runway and who was assigned to the delegation were separate.

The monk and four others stayed close to the elder, while the remaining eight guarded the front and rear of the vehicle and the loading of documents. Zhi Zi used her public contact badge to check the license plate against the driver, the vehicle's license plate, and the Guiyuan reception staff. She walked past one driver, then turned back to ask for his name again. The man gave his surname first, then his full name on the second attempt.

The secretary handed the loading list to Zhao Weiguo.

Two shortwave radios, a spare transceiver, a medicine box, and a document box were all crammed into the first vehicle.

"Rewrite."

The secretary, her forehead covered in sweat, paused for a moment, then said, "Airport regulations prohibit changing vehicles without authorization."

"Don't change the vehicle, keep the equipment separate." Zhao Weiguo pointed to those lines with his finger. "The two shortwave radios can't be crammed together, and the spare transceiver shouldn't be placed with the main unit. The first-aid kit should be placed within easy reach, and the document box shouldn't be used to cover the medicine."

The drivers outside the police line were getting impatient, and some were glancing at their watches. The secretary was pressing her face against the scorching car hood to correct something; the nib of her pen was smudged by sweat on the paper, and the first line was ruined, so she had to start over.

The vehicle numbers, driver names, and remaining fuel levels for all three vehicles were completed. The spare car keys were at the secretariat, but the key tags only had a number on them and no information about the car's location.

"Guiyuan Garage," Zhao Weiguo said, "We need to add a second custodian. If one person can't be found, the car can't be without its keys."

Three days' worth of rations were counted on the spot. No one knew how long the negotiations would last, so the rations were inventoried every three days, and the amount consumed, the amount replenished, and who brought the rations to the hospital were all recorded. The medicine kit was signed for by the medic, with gauze, disinfectant, and commonly used medicines listed separately.

After shaking hands with the receptionist, the elder turned around and glanced in this direction.

Is there a problem with the airport?

"The airport is under their control, and there's no problem for now," Zhao Weiguo said. "I just don't want to hand over my escape route to others."

"There are over a hundred people outside, and they still can't hold it?"

"They're guarding the runway. We need to know which vehicles can go, which vehicle has the documents, and who to contact if the phone goes down."

The Grand Elder nodded without urging him.

It wasn't until the convoy left the airport that Shancheng truly revealed his temper.

The road here is unpredictable. A slope leads to stone steps, below which lies a narrow alley, which then curves out and hugs the river. The driver knew the route well, but the escort team didn't. The first vehicle slowed down at each fork in the road, while the following vehicles maintained a distance, neither driving alongside nor allowing unfamiliar vehicles to cut in between.

The car window was half-open, letting in hot air mixed with the smell of coal smoke and the fishy odor of the river. People were picking vegetables on the street, while others were splashing water from wooden basins. A child chased the car barefoot for half a block before his mother pulled him back, shouting that he was looking at important people.

Zhao Weiguo sat in the front car on the outside, with no heavy load on his right shoulder and a regular pistol hanging at his waist. Zhi Zi sat on the other side, carrying only a publicly available route card; she didn't have the complete evacuation map with her.

At the first intersection, on the left, a photo studio on the second floor had an open window. A figure flashed behind the window. On the right, in front of the telephone exchange, two cars without license plates were parked; no one got out, and no one raised a gun.

"Time, window, car," Zhao Weiguo said in a low voice.

The monk peered out of the back of the car, staring at the second floor: "Should I take some men up and ask?"

"If you barge into a photo studio on your first day, tomorrow's newspapers won't even need to think of a headline."

"Then let them film it?"

"What we get to film is our business."

When I entered Guiyuan, guards were already stationed at the main gate, side gate, and back wall. There were also about a hundred guards on duty around Guiyuan and the surrounding area, scattered at street corners, outside the garage, at wall corners, and near the main building. The group guarding the runway at the airport and this group guarding Guiyuan cannot be counted as two hundred people following the vehicle all the way just because they were seen on the same day.

These individuals are responsible for maintaining order in the neighborhood and are not included in the count of the twelve escort personnel.

Inside the compound, a monk and four others guarded the area. The rest were assigned to watch over documents, vehicles, and take turns manning the passageway. Zhao Weiguo did not request a separate post at the street corner, nor would the Chongqing authorities agree. He handed three publicly displayed route cards to Zhi Zi.

Telephone office, hospital, dock, road.

"Go under the guise of liaison, procurement, medical arrangements, and vehicle confirmation," he said. "Go to only one place at a time. Write it down when you return; don't report the number of people, the route, or the security arrangements over the phone."

"Is it really urgent?"

"Use the backup transceiver to only report that everything is safe and to withdraw the password."

Zhi Zi put the three cards into the hidden compartment. The first thing she did in Chongqing wasn't to find out who was going to kill someone, but to see who always smoked the same kind of cigarettes outside the telephone exchange, what the hospital doorman asked, and what time the dock patrol cars changed shifts.

After closing the courtyard gate, Zhao Weiguo went to check the back gate first.

The bolt could be inserted; outside was a narrow, downhill alley. Cars couldn't get in, but it was walkable. The monk measured the path step by step with his feet, finally frowning and saying, "A stretcher could pass, but it would be difficult for two people to walk side by side. If I were to carry someone, I'd have to turn sideways around the corner."

"Write it down. Don't wait until you're carrying a wounded soldier to realize the wall is too narrow."

There was a spare car in the garage; it could start, but the gas wasn't full. The secretariat and the driver each had a key. Zhao Weiguo instructed the driver to position the car facing outwards and put the toolbox on the right side, to avoid having to reverse three times in the yard when they actually left.

The driver was somewhat reluctant: "With the car facing outwards, if the rain hits at an angle, the electrical circuits are prone to getting damp."

"Cover it with an oilcloth. It's faster than drying the circuit when you need to open it."

There's a telephone in the negotiation room, with the line running through a small room in the corner of the main building, maintained by the Chongqing side. The phone is currently working, but it's unclear who controls the line. Public announcements can be made from there, but important orders are kept secret.

Four new nodes quickly appeared on the wall: telephone line, back door, garage, and negotiation room.

The secretariat tried calling the main building's telephone. The first call rang for a long time without being answered; the second number finally connected. The person who answered said the lines were busy and they couldn't guarantee immediate transfer. Zhao Weiguo instructed his secretary to write down both numbers, the person who answered, and the moment the first call went unanswered.

The spare car was also driven once. It took more than three minutes to go from the parking space to the gate and back. If there was a car parked outside, turning would take even longer. The monk told the gatekeeper to remember that as soon as the engine started in the garage, the road outside the gate should be cleared first, and people shouldn't be honked at before being shooed away.

The hospital, dock, airport, and three streets were drawn on the outer circle. Different markings indicated where to pick up the wounded, where to transfer vehicles, and where disembarkation was only permitted on foot. There wasn't a single attack arrow on the map; it was filled with doors, roads, telephones, and evacuation points.

In the afternoon, Gardenia returned from the direction of the telephone exchange, her cuffs damp.

"There were three people outside the telephone exchange, all dressed differently, but they changed positions at the same time. No one was seen consistently accompanying the delegation at the hospital; the doorman said someone had asked the delegation how many cars they had beforehand. There are patrol cars on the dock road at night, but I haven't seen any stopping to watch them."

Who said that?

"The hospital doorman and the driver didn't know each other. I saw three people from the telephone exchange."

"Write down the observations. Don't have the organization fill them out for them."

The first reconnaissance was conducted that evening.

Zhao Weiguo, the monk, and two guards walked out the back door, along the hospital's outer wall to the main street, and then circled back towards the dock. Zhi Zi went to the telephone exchange separately, carrying only her public contact identification. The two groups agreed to return to the hospital at 9:30; whoever was late would have to be brought back into the hospital first, to avoid sending the remaining people out to search.

The guards change shifts every fifteen minutes at the hospital entrance. There are two patrol cars on the dock road; their license plates are clearly visible. The three men outside the telephone exchange changed positions once; one of them, holding a cigarette, walked back and forth for half an hour without striking a match.

At 9:30, both groups returned.

The second survey was scheduled for 11 p.m.

Zhao Weiguo stayed at the hospital to guard four checkpoints. The monk led four people to check vehicle entrances and exits along the main street, while Zhi Zi and a secretary went towards the hospital. Two other people from the secretariat checked documents and personnel. Each group had a reporting time; if they hadn't returned, the others remained at the hospital.

The monk spotted a car following him outside the garage. The car wasn't blocking the road; it only stopped briefly at the entrance of Guiyuan. The driver threw a cigarette butt out the window, not even bothering to extinguish the flame. The monk noted the license plate, car model, and direction the car went, but refrained from giving chase.

From the direction of the hospital, a person claiming to be a reporter asked three questions in a row: When will the Grand Elder leave? How many cars are in the delegation? Is Zhao Weiguo accompanying him?

Zhi Zi didn't answer a word, went straight into the hospital lobby, and left through another door.

On the return trip, the following vehicle came up close from below the slope. A member of the delegation moved to the side of the wall, his arm brushing against the rough edges of the car door, his sleeve tearing open and his skin scraping.

The car did not stop.

Hearing the commotion, the monk, who had already stepped down the stairs, abruptly stopped. He first escorted his attendant inside, then turned back to look in the direction the car had disappeared.

The medic was cleaning wounds inside the hospital gate. The injury wasn't serious; the fingers could still bend, yet it was still recorded on the casualty list. Disinfectant and gauze were removed from the first-aid kit inventory. The accompanying staff member, finding it troublesome, rolled down his sleeve and tried to leave.

Why bother noticing a minor abrasion?

The medic called the man back, first asking if he had touched anything rusty, and then had him move his fingers again.

"If your hand gets swollen tomorrow and you say it hurts, I need to know which car you hit today. I can't just guess."

Even the chipped paint and burrs along the car door weren't overlooked. The monk smoothed them down with a file, the metal shavings falling to the ground with a soft, rustling sound. The vehicle number and the scratch record were written together.

There was no firefight, and no one chased the car.

The monk, seething with anger, said, "They've followed us all the way to the door, why aren't you arresting them?"

"Who should we arrest?"

"The one driving."

"They didn't block the road, didn't draw their guns, and didn't reveal their identities." Zhao Weiguo glanced at his bandaged arm. "If we drag him down now, they can say tomorrow that the delegation's guards arrested people on the street."

"Then I'll guard the garage tonight."

"You take four men to guard the compound. The garage is just one place; the back door and the main building cannot be left unguarded."

The monk threw the file into the toolbox with a loud thud, and in the end, the shifts were still arranged according to the original positions.

Roll call will be repeated before midnight.

The delegation consisted of about twenty people, and all twelve escort personnel were on duty. The documents were sealed intact, and the two shortwave radios and the backup transceiver were in their original positions. The backup vehicle was started again, and the fuel quantity was recorded in the three-day inventory list.

The secretary brought over a phone book, which only listed the main building number. It didn't specify who to contact if the line broke down, nor who would notify them if the negotiation location changed unexpectedly.

Zhao Weiguo asked him to add two more points. One was to be relayed by the delegation's secretariat, and the other was for Zhi Zi to confirm with a written receipt. Telephone calls should only report publicly available information, not complete action orders.

The elder stood in front of the mural for a long time.

"You've turned Guiyuan into a battleground."

"They guard the outer perimeter; we guard the people and the escape route. Separating the borders ensures we know who to contact if something goes wrong."

Next to the four checkpoints, the names of the injured staff members, the license plate of the accompanying vehicle, and the times of the two investigations were added. Outside the compound, about a hundred guards continued their shift changes, and the escort team did not go to collect their passbooks.

At one o'clock in the morning, the courtyard finally quieted down.

The phone call hadn't stopped, the back door hadn't been opened, and the backup vehicle could start. The first three-day rations had been taken. The aide with abrasions lay on his bunk, a section of white gauze peeking out from his rolled-up sleeve.

Rice, vegetables, and coal delivered to the kitchen were also recorded. Deliverymen brought in through the front door, and empty baskets also left through the front door; no one used the back door to save time. On the first day, there was an extra half-bag of rice, but the secretary didn't dare to add it to the reserves immediately; she waited until the delivery slip was complete before recording it.

Zhao Weiguo stopped halfway through rolling up the map.

The unlicensed car outside the telephone exchange, the questions asked by the hospital gatekeeper, the cigarette butts still burning outside Guiyuan—all these are still on paper.

"The cage is closed," he said.

The monk, who was sitting on the threshold wiping his file, looked up when he heard this.

Zhao Weiguo laid the map out again.

"First, count out the cage doors, the supply lines, and the escape routes."

He placed the pencil on Guiyuan's spot, the tip pointing towards the back door. The narrow alley outside was dark, and the cigarette butt from the car following behind had long since gone out, but he knew that those eyes would return after dawn.