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

As the sandbags were moved to the third layer, a sliver of gray appeared on the horizon.

It's not bright.

It was as if someone had wiped the night with a dirty cloth.

The gunfire outside the city ceased for a moment, and the artillery fire faded into the distance. But no one dared to breathe loudly. After the Japanese troops retreated last night, corpses still lay in the moat, and charred truck frames leaned against the mud, their axles glowing red from the fire, then gradually darkening.

The deputy battalion commander dragged the telephone operator behind the battlements.

"What did they say in Beiping?"

The telephone operator pressed his ear against the receiver, while his other hand gripped the junction box tightly.

"Negotiations are still ongoing. The Japanese say they've found their soldiers, but they also want us to withdraw from the positions around Wanping, saying it's to avoid escalating the conflict."

The soldier surnamed Meng kicked the sandbag.

"Bullshit! Who fired the cannon last night? Did the city wall blow itself up?"

Old Xu leaned against the shadow of the gatehouse, the bandages under his ribs soaked with red again. He raised his eyelids, his voice hoarse like a broken saw.

"They talk the talk but load the guns. Same old trick."

Zhao Weiguo squatted by the gap, not participating in the cursing.

He disassembled the captured Type 38 rifle, laying the bolt, magazine, and bayonet mount on an old wooden plank. His fingers traced a trail of black ash as he ran them across the barrel. He glanced again at the city beyond.

The system's blue lines are laid out.

The Japanese troops outside the moat hadn't truly retreated. Three gray, shadowy figures moved along the edge of the cemetery, and the artillery observation post shifted to behind a dilapidated house east of Lugou Bridge. Even more troubling was the gaping hole in the city wall, clearly visible in the morning light, like a gaping wound on a face.

[Enemy Observation Vision: Enhanced]

[Breach in the city wall exposed]

[Recommendation: Create a fake gap to induce a shift in firepower]

Zhao Weiguo looked up.

"Battalion Deputy, stop piling all the sandbags on the front of the breach."

The deputy battalion commander was directing people to lift the door panel when he heard this and paused for a moment.

"If we don't block this place, where else can we block it? The Japanese aren't blind."

"It's because I'm not blind."

Zhao Weiguo used his broken bayonet to draw three lines on the mortar of the city bricks.

"Place real sandbags here, two layers high. Leave someone behind. Twenty paces to the right, pile up a fake one using broken door panels, empty boxes, and tattered sacks, with half a machine gun barrel sticking out."

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng came over.

"Trying to bait artillery fire?"

"To bait artillery fire, to bait machine gun fire, and to trick their infantry into veering to the right."

The deputy battalion commander stared at those lines, his eyes bloodshot.

"Would the Japanese really fall for that?"

Zhao Weiguo pushed the bolt back into the Type 38 rifle and snapped it shut.

"They suffered a loss last night, so at dawn they'll definitely target the visible firing positions first. Give them a clear target."

Old Xu grinned.

"You're bad. You're a really damn bad kid."

The deputy battalion commander suddenly turned around and roared.

"Do as Mr. Zhao says! Move the empty boxes to the right! Stuff the tattered blankets with dirt! Hurry up, the Japanese devils will be wide awake as soon as the sun comes out!"

Chaos broke out on the city walls again.

The wounded soldiers crawled to help. Some dragged the shattered door panels to the right, while others stacked empty ammunition boxes to make machine gun emplacements, then covered them with blood-stained uniforms. The Meng-surname garrison soldier inserted a section of a bent gun barrel into a crevice in the box, and from a distance, it really looked like a light machine gun sticking out halfway.

Zhao Weiguo called out to him.

"A little more crooked."

The garrison commander surnamed Meng was puzzled.

Why?

"A real machine gunner would be afraid of dying, so he wouldn't point his gun so straight."

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng was stunned for a moment, then tilted the barrel of his gun half an inch to the left.

"Okay, now you look like a veteran."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a sharp whistling sound suddenly rang out from outside the city.

The deputy battalion commander tackled the telephone operator.

"gun!"

The first shell landed in front of the fake gap on the right.

boom!

Broken door panels, empty boxes, and tattered sacks were blasted into the air, and sawdust swarmed over the city wall like a flock of black birds. Several defenders stood close behind the breach, their eyes wide with disbelief.

The second shot followed immediately.

Still on the right side.

The third shot landed on the fake machine gun, blasting the curved barrel into the air, where it struck a wooden pillar of the city gate tower and embedded itself halfway in.

Old Xu looked at the rain of broken wood, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Damn it, those Japanese devils are kowtowing to an empty box."

The deputy battalion commander punched the sandbag.

"It really worked!"

Zhao Weiguo didn't laugh. He grabbed the binoculars—which he had taken from the Japanese platoon leader, with a cracked lens—and peered through them against the edge of the crenellation.

The artillery positions have been exposed.

Behind the dilapidated house on the east side of Lugou Bridge, smoke was rising from the muzzle of a cannon. Two Japanese soldiers were moving cannonballs, while an officer next to them was holding binoculars and looking in the direction of the fake gap.

Zhao Weiguo put down his binoculars.

"Deputy Battalion Commander, do you have any mortars?"

The battalion deputy's face stiffened.

"There was a small one, with only four rounds of ammunition. We didn't want to use it last night."

"Use it now."

The deputy battalion commander gritted his teeth.

"Where to hit?"

Zhao Weiguo spread out the map and touched the location of the dilapidated house east of the bridge with blood mud.

"Here. The first shot is 10 meters to the right, the second shot is aimed behind the house, the third shot is aimed at the doorway. The fourth shot is reserved."

The deputy battalion commander glanced at him but didn't ask, "What gives you the right?"

He turned around and roared.

"Mortar crew! Bring up that precious machine!"

Two artillerymen carried small mortars up the city wall from the bottom of the steps; the barrels were covered in dents. The gunner crouched down, wiping the muzzle with his palm, and looked up at the deputy battalion commander.

"Sir, where should we fire?"

Battalion Deputy Commander Zhao Weiguo.

"Listen to him."

The gunner's eyes widened in surprise.

Zhao Weiguo squatted down next to the cannon and pressed his fingers on the edge of the cannon base.

"Place bricks on the base, don't let it get muddy. Raise the elevation angle by half a finger. The wind is coming from the southwest, don't worry about accuracy on the first shot, just scare them a little."

The gunner's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Half a finger?"

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

"Your finger isn't mine."

The gunner gritted his teeth and raised the gun barrel a little.

"put!"

thump.

The first shell flew out and landed on the right side of the dilapidated house, exploding into a cloud of dust.

The Japanese artillery positions were momentarily thrown into disarray.

Zhao Weiguo stared at the smoke and dust.

"Cultivation three on the left, one on the near side."

The gunners were frantically adjusting the cannons.

thump.

The second shot landed on the back edge of the dilapidated house.

With a flash of light, two Japanese soldiers carrying artillery shells were thrown over, and the cannon wheel tilted halfway.

Someone on the city wall suddenly shouted.

"Hit!"

Zhao Weiguo raised his hand and pressed down.

"Third shot, at the door."

thump.

A shell pierced the edge of the dilapidated house door, collapsing half a wall. The Japanese officer holding binoculars was knocked down by the falling bricks, and the binoculars rolled into the mud.

The Japanese artillery fire stopped.

There was a moment of silence on the walls of Wanping, followed by a burst of roars.

"good!"

"Mr. Zhao lit the cannon!"

The deputy battalion commander grabbed the gunner's shoulder, his eyes bloodshot.

"Save the fourth shot! Anyone who dares to fire recklessly, I'll beat them up!"

The telephone operator rushed over carrying a junction box, his face covered in dust, but he grinned, revealing his teeth.

"Battalion Commander! A report from Changxindian says the ammunition we delivered last night has arrived! A unit of the 219th Regiment is approaching Lugou Bridge; tell us to hold on!"

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng slammed the newly loaded magazine into his gun and spat outside the city.

"Did you hear that? There are still grandfathers here!"

Zhao Weiguo handed him the repaired Type 38 rifle.

"Stop shouting. Withdraw the real firepower from the right flank; the Japanese will soon realize they've been tricked."

The soldier surnamed Meng received the gun, his smile still lingering on his face.

"How do we fight this time?"

Zhao Weiguo looked at the Japanese infantrymen who had dispersed again outside the city and pressed his finger on the newly drawn line on the city brick.

"Make them walk another twenty steps."