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

Old Xu was laughing when his chest suddenly clenched, and he slid down the crumbling wall.

"Old Xu!"

Li Shuanzi rushed up the steps and reached out to help, but as soon as his palm touched Old Xu's ribs, he felt a wet, hot sensation.

Old Xu bared his teeth and kicked him in the shin.

"What are you howling about? I haven't even met the King of Hell yet. Get the cloth and gag me."

Zhao Weiguo squatted down and tore open Lao Xu's cotton coat. The bayonet grazed his ribs, leaving a long gash that bled profusely, but thankfully it hadn't penetrated his abdomen. He rummaged through the ammunition box for a roll of first-aid bandages and grabbed some water from beside the lime vat.

The deputy battalion commander offered his help.

"I'll do it."

Zhao Weiguo pressed down on Lao Xu's wound, his voice hard.

"Wash your hands thoroughly. Don't put dirt in."

The deputy battalion commander was taken aback, and immediately rubbed his hands in the water, washing out blackish-red mud from between his fingers.

The gunfire outside the city had subsided.

The Japanese troops did not charge any further, but in the gray fog, some people dragged away the wounded soldiers, and the sound of clashing bayonets came in waves, like iron chains grinding on stones.

None of the soldiers guarding the city wall dared to peek out. The previous night raid had woken them up and rendered them mute. The young soldier, clutching a grenade box, was covered in ash and his lips were pale.

"Mr. Zhao, have the Japanese retreated?"

Zhao Weiguo didn't look up. He pressed the bandage against Lao Xu's ribs, and then had Li Shuanzi wrap the cloth around it.

"It's not a retreat. They're waiting for dawn."

The soldier surnamed Meng, whose hand was still trembling as he held his pistol, felt his throat tighten upon hearing this.

"Still fighting at daybreak?"

The deputy battalion commander gritted his teeth and looked out of the city.

"The Japanese said they lost a soldier and wanted to search Wanping. We didn't allow it. Now they've already fired the cannons, what's the point of searching?"

Zhao Weiguo looked up.

"They don't want soldiers, they want an excuse."

The deputy battalion commander kept a straight face.

"The negotiations are still ongoing. There are people at the Hebei-Chahar Political Affairs Committee and in Beiping city arguing with the Japanese. But our 29th Army is here, and we can't let them take a single step into the city."

Old Xu was panting and grinning.

"Talk is talk, but sword is sword. If those Japanese devils get on the wall, I'll chop off their ankles even if I'm lying down."

Zhao Weiguo tightened the bandage knot.

"Lie down, don't get in the way."

Old Xu's eyes twitched from the pain, but he still forced a smile.

"Did you hear that, Shuanzi? This kid thinks I'm taking up space."

Li Shuanzi dragged Lao Xu to the inside of the gatehouse, with his back against the sandbags.

"If you say less, you'll bleed less."

The sound of horses' hooves came from below the city.

A communications soldier stumbled up the steps, his military cap gone, his forehead cut open by gravel, and blood covering one eye.

"Battalion Commander! A call from the city! Deputy Commander Tong has ordered that the defending troops must not escalate the conflict without authorization, but they must not lose their positions! Brigade Commander Qin is also urging us to hold Wanping City!"

The deputy battalion commander punched the parapet, brick fragments embedding themselves in his knuckles.

"Don't expand? The Japanese shells are already raining down!"

The communications soldier was panting like a broken bellows.

"The Japanese also sent people over, saying they wanted to take inventory of the soldiers and continued to demand to enter the city for a search."

Upon hearing this, the garrison soldier surnamed Meng's eyes lit up.

"Let them in? They'd be setting up machine guns at the gate the moment they stepped inside!"

The battalion deputy looked out of the city, his facial muscles twitching.

"Call back. The garrison in Wanping is following orders to defend the city. The Japanese want to search the city; tell them to dismantle the cannons first."

The communications soldier turned to run.

Zhao Weiguo suddenly spoke.

"Wait a moment."

The communications soldier stopped.

Zhao Weiguo picked up a leather ammunition box from beside the Japanese sergeant's body, found a few Type 38 rifle bullets, and then pulled out a small piece of blood-stained paper. The Japanese writing on the paper was messy, and there were two arrows drawn next to it, one pointing to the southwest gap and the other pointing to the right secret door.

He handed the paper to the deputy battalion commander.

"Report this as well. Tonight's attack wasn't a spontaneous conflict; it was a pre-planned assault. The Right Secret Gate team scouted the area beforehand."

The deputy battalion commander took the paper, his face grim.

"That son of a bitch even said he was searching for soldiers."

The communications soldier stuffed the paper into his pocket and rushed downstairs.

Zhao Weiguo stood up and walked to the gap. He didn't peek out, but instead stuck half of the broken gun barrel out of the wall, with just a little bit of the barrel showing.

Snapped!

The bullet jolted the gun barrel.

The garrison commander surnamed Meng gasped.

"There are still gunmen outside."

Zhao Weiguo squatted down and drew a few lines on the city bricks with charcoal ash.

"They are at three points: the moat, the burial mound, and the southeast. They will suppress the breach before dawn, and then the artillery will fire another round."

The deputy battalion commander came over.

"What do you suggest we do?"

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the left side of the gate tower.

"Change the position of the Type 96 light machine gun. That spot was exposed. Don't put the two light machine guns together. One should be positioned to cover the ditch, and the other to keep an eye on the southeast. The broadsword team should retreat half a step and not crowd into the gap. Wait for them to come up before you start cutting them down."

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng said urgently:

"But since no one was there to cover the gap, they just climbed up, didn't they?"

Zhao Weiguo glanced at him.

"Let them think they can get up here."

The soldier surnamed Meng opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked down at the blood blister on his hand left from firing the gun.

"I'll listen to you."

The battalion deputy glanced at the dusty-faced soldiers on the city wall and gritted his teeth as he gave the order.

"Do as Mr. Zhao says! Move the machine guns, disperse the grenades, and find two more cylinders of lime! Pile all the door panels and sandbags behind the breach!"

The city walls began to move again.

The soldiers moved sandbags, carried the wounded, and picked up spent shell casings. One man tried to pry open the gun of a dead comrade, but couldn't. He muttered a curse under his breath, tears falling onto the butt of the gun.

Zhao Weiguo helped a wounded soldier untie his rifle strap.

The wounded soldier grabbed his sleeve, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

"Young sir, my gun... don't lose it."

Zhao Weiguo placed the gun in the arms of the soldier surnamed Meng.

"Don't worry, someone will use it and treat it well."

The wounded soldier let go, but his eyes were still fixed on the gun.

Suddenly, the sound of an engine came from outside the city.

Low-pitched, dense.

The deputy battalion commander suddenly looked up.

"truck?"

Zhao Weiguo's system panel instantly turned red, and the blue tactical lines were pressed down by several thick red arcs.

[Enemy firepower regrouped]

[Direction: Southwest Outer Line]

[Suspected: Relocation of Type 92 heavy machine gun/infantry artillery positions]

In the distance, two car headlights covered by black cloth flashed by in the darkness. Immediately afterward, the sound of metal scaffolding being erected came from behind the moat.

Click. Click. Click.

The color drained completely from the face of the soldier surnamed Meng.

"What is that?"

Zhao Weiguo loaded a row of bullets into the clip, pushed the pistol into place, and closed the bolt.

"Heavy machine gun."

The deputy battalion commander's throat was dry.

"Are they going to seal off the city walls?"

Zhao Weiguo looked down at the few charcoal lines on the city bricks, erased one of them, and redrawn it further to the right.

"Block the city walls, create an opening and suppress the enemy with fire, then the infantry will coordinate an assault on the city."

Old Xu leaned against the sandbag and struggled to lift his head.

"Mr. Zhao, is there any way to fix this?"

Zhao Weiguo tucked the Mauser pistol back into his waistband and reached out to pull over the lightly armed butt-handled rifle he had just confiscated.

"able."

He looked up at the deputy battalion commander.

"Give me three men, ten grenades, two bundles of rope, and a broken door panel."

The battalion deputy's eyes twitched.

"You're going down from the city?"

Zhao Weiguo grabbed a handful of lime and smeared it on the reflective parts of the gun.

"Once they set up their machine guns, the people on the city wall won't be able to raise their heads. We have to knock them down."

The bolt of a heavy machine gun outside the city rang out in the darkness, crisp as if someone were banging on an iron bowl.

Zhao Weiguo looked at the Meng-surnamed garrison.

"Do you want my gun back?"

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng tucked his pistol into his waistband and picked up the grenade box.

"I'll owe you for now."