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

The short soldier slipped through the hidden door and moved outwards, his body pressed against the wall.

On the city wall, the Meng-surname garrison soldier held a Type 38 rifle, its muzzle lowered, but its eyes never left the direction of the dilapidated house.

"Mr. Zhao, there are still people at their gun emplacement."

Zhao Weiguo squatted behind the crenellation and tapped the city brick with his finger again.

"Wait for the dwarf soldiers to arrive."

The deputy battalion commander gripped the telephone line until his knuckles turned white.

"They're still asking in Beiping, saying the Japanese representative was beaten, and they want an explanation from us."

Old Xu leaned against the sandbag, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"An explanation? They fired the first shot."

Zhao Weiguo looked at the white cloth lying in the mud outside the city, its edges still stained with blood.

"The telegram was sent back, and the garrison at Wanping responded truthfully. The Japanese opened fire during negotiations, and our response was justified."

The telephone operator swallowed hard, then turned and ran down the steps.

Below the city walls, the short soldier had already reached the edge of the slope. He pressed himself against the wall and could see the pile of ammunition boxes under the wheels of a small cart. Two Japanese soldiers were dragging cannons into the dilapidated house, the cannon wheels pressing deep trenches into the muddy ground.

The short soldier's palms were sweaty.

He pulled out the canned bomb and gripped the fuse with his thumb. The broken nails inside the can rattled slightly.

A Japanese soldier turned his head.

The short soldier held his breath.

The Japanese soldier stared at the base of the wall for two breaths, then turned back to continue dragging the cannon.

The dwarf soldier pulled the fuse.

Nourishes—

Mars shone a little brightly in the darkness.

He counted to two and then flung the can shell away.

The canned food tumbled halfway through the air, crashed under the cart, and rolled to the horse's legs.

The Japanese soldiers towing the artillery were stunned for a moment.

boom!

Spikes and tin can shattered, a horse's leg was sliced ​​in half, and the horse neighed and fell to the side, its entire body crushing the ammunition box. The box cracked open, and several shells rolled out.

Two Japanese soldiers dragging the artillery were kicked by horses' hooves; one rolled backward while covering his face, and the other was crushed under the wheels.

On the city wall, the battalion deputy commander suddenly stood up.

"Fire! Don't let them take the cannon away!"

The Meng-surnamed garrison and the lean soldiers opened fire simultaneously.

Snap! Snap!

Two more Japanese soldiers fell down at the entrance of the dilapidated house.

Zhao Weiguo raised his hand.

"Machine gun, hold down the back wall of the ruined house. Don't let them get out of the windows."

The Czech light machine gun immediately turned, its bullets sweeping past the back wall of the dilapidated house, shattering the wooden window frames into pieces.

The area east of the bridge is in complete chaos.

The Japanese soldiers wanted to drag the artillery, but the horses died; they wanted to seize the artillery shells, but the boxes were crushed; they wanted to retreat through the ruined houses, but the machine guns on the city wall blocked their retreat.

A Japanese sergeant climbed out of the ditch, brandished his sword, and shouted something.

The guard surnamed Meng immediately locked onto him with his gun.

Snapped!

Before the sergeant's sword could fall, a burst of black blood exploded in his chest, and he collapsed into the mud.

The gunfire outside the city gradually subsided.

The Japanese troops began to retreat east of the bridge, dragging their wounded soldiers and abandoning artillery and ammunition boxes.

The short soldier peeked out from the hidden door and waved to the city wall.

"Mr. Zhao! I'm still alive!"

A burst of laughter erupted from the city wall.

Old Xu grinned, his teeth filled with blood and foam.

"This kid's got a tough life."

Zhao Weiguo stood up and looked at the abandoned Type 92 infantry gun outside the city. The gun barrel lay askew in the mud, the breech still smoking, and the wheels were pressing down on the belly of a dead horse.

The battalion deputy also saw it, and his throat bobbed.

"That cannon..."

Zhao Weiguo turned and walked down the steps.

"Drag it back."

The deputy battalion commander was taken aback.

"Now?"

"While they're still recovering."

The Meng-surname garrison immediately followed.

"Holy crap!"

Zhao Weiguo turned to look at him.

"Take five men and ropes. Don't linger in battle; drag them to the city walls and then retreat."

The garrison commander surnamed Meng nodded, called to a few soldiers, grabbed ropes, and rushed towards the hidden door.

Old Xu tried to stand up, but the deputy battalion commander held him down.

"Don't move, your wound has reopened."

Old Xu cursed, but his eyes were fixed on the city below.

Zhao Weiguo did not leave the city.

He stood at the edge of the gap, holding a Type 38 rifle, the muzzle pointed towards the east of the bridge. Within the blue system line, several red dots were moving behind the ditch, like scattered insects slowly gathering in one place.

[Enemy remnants are regrouping]

Threat Level: Low-Medium

[Suggestion: Cover your own recovery operation]

Below the city, the Meng-surname garrison led his men to the artillery positions.

"Quick! Loop the rope around the cannon!"

Several soldiers frantically wrapped the rope around the cannon barrel and pried the wheels out from under the dead horse. The cannon was heavy, and the six men's faces turned red from pulling.

Behind the ditch, a Japanese soldier poked his head out and picked up a Type 38 rifle.

Zhao Weiguo fired the first shot.

Snapped!

The Japanese soldier's shoulder jerked, and his gun fell into the mud.

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng glanced back and grinned.

"Mr. Zhao, I owe you a life!"

"Enough talk, get the cannons going!"

The Type 92 infantry gun was dragged down the city wall. The wheels made a dull thud as they ran over broken bricks and corpses. On the city wall, the battalion deputy commander suppressed the outer edge of the moat with machine guns, preventing the Japanese soldiers from raising their heads.

The cannon was finally dragged to the hidden door.

The garrison soldier surnamed Meng was panting heavily, like a bellows, and wiped the mud off his face.

"Let's go into town!"

Several soldiers pushed the cannon into the doorway, but the cannon wheel got stuck on the threshold.

"Push harder! Push harder!"

Click.

The cannon barrel squeezed into the doorway.

A roar erupted from the city wall.

"It's been towed back!"

"Those Japanese devils' cannons!"

The deputy battalion commander clung to the parapet, his voice hoarse from shouting.

"well!"

Zhao Weiguo put down his gun and looked at the darkness that had returned to the city.

After the Japanese troops retreated to the east of the bridge, they made no further moves.

But he knew this was just the beginning.