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

As soon as the gunshot rang out from the north gate, Yamada paused for two breaths.

He didn't turn around.

A sergeant rushed up to him, his face covered in dirt, half of his left ear scraped off by gravel, and blood foam oozing from the corner of his mouth as he spoke.

"Major, the main force of the Eighth Route Army has been spotted at the north gate."

Yamada's fingers gripped the hilt of his military knife, his knuckles turning white.

The valley entrance is blocked. The right slope has been attacked for a long time without success. The gully to the south, riddled with boulders from the explosion, is impassable. Now gunfire has broken out at the north entrance as well. Surrounded on all sides, only this patch of land beneath our feet remains ours.

Yamada pushed the sergeant aside and pointed towards the north entrance.

"The rearguard, the third squad, and the supply convoy, all assemble at the north entrance."

The sergeant was taken aback.

"What about the wooden box?"

Yamada turned his face, the mud on his face etched with sweat, revealing deep furrows, and a cracked gash on his cheekbone. He stared at the sergeant for a moment, his voice low.

"Leave a detachment to guard it. The boxes are only useful if the men can get out. If all the men die, the boxes will belong to the Eighth Route Army."

The sergeant lowered his head and turned to relay the order.

The remaining Japanese troops at the bottom of the valley began to move. Wounded soldiers were left behind rocks; some were still shouting, while others had fallen silent. Mules and horses were led to the northernmost position, the ropes on the pack animals were cut, and several large wooden crates wrapped in oilcloth fell heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. The corners of the crates struck the frozen stone surface with dull thuds.

Yamada didn't look at the boxes again.

He raised his hand and swung the military knife forward.

"Warriors of the Empire! Head north! Break through!!"

The order was given, and the Japanese troops immediately changed their formation. Those who had been scattered at the bottom of the valley, on the right slope, and near the valley entrance were pulled out in groups and gathered towards the north entrance. Those who could still run took their guns, while those who couldn't run fast moved forward by holding onto their rifle butts. Grenadiers hugged their grenade launchers, and assistant gunners carried the last two bags of grenades on their backs. As they ran, the bags hit their lower backs, and they swayed with every step.

Zhao Weiguo, who was lying on the right side of the slope behind a crevice in the rocks, saw the Japanese soldiers' movements.

He had just chambered the fifth bullet, his fingers still stained with blood and dirt, when his fingertips slipped as he pushed the chamber.

Shuanzi lay beside him, his ears pressed against the ground, his face blue from the cold, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"The fighting is intense at the north gate."

Zhao Weiguo didn't answer. He picked up the binoculars, the lens covered in gunpowder and ash, wiped it with his sleeve, and held it up to his eyes.

The smoke of battle hadn't cleared yet, and the valley floor was sometimes clear and sometimes muddy. But the direction the crowd was moving didn't lie. The rear guard was heading north, the grenade launchers were heading north, and the guards beside the officers were also heading north.

Zhao Weiguo handed the binoculars to Chen An.

"Did you see that?"

Chen An wiped the blood from his forehead; the blood had dried, leaving a dark mark. He squinted at it for a moment.

"Everyone head north."

"Go find Commander Li."

Chen An was stunned: "And you?"

"I'll go from the side."

"Brother Zhao, you only have five bullets."

"Enough."

Before Chen An could speak, Zhao Weiguo had already crouched down and retreated through the crack in the rock.

He didn't take the main slope, where there were too many corpses and the Japanese were keeping a close watch. He slid down a narrow path on the back side of the right slope, his palms scraping against the gravel until they bled, and his knees hitting the edge of a rock, making his jaw clench in pain.

He didn't stop.

Li Yunlong was on the earthen embankment behind the valley entrance. Zhang Dabiao's battalion had just finished sealing the breach, and the machine guns were still firing, their barrels so hot they were smoking. The Japanese tried to push forward several times, but were all driven back. Li Yunlong held an unlit cigarette in his hand, the paper crushed in his fist, tobacco spilling out from the tear and sticking to the calluses on his thumb.

After rolling to the earthen embankment, Zhao Weiguo first glanced at the bottom of the valley. The smoke and dust mixed together, making his throat tight.

"Yamada is going to run away."

Li Yunlong turned his head: "Where do you think you're going?"

"North exit."

"Zhou Dahu's side has just made contact." Li Yunlong's eyelids twitched. "Whether they can hold them off or not depends on how many men they've deployed."

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the bottom of the valley. His fingers were covered in blood and mud, a piece of his nail was split, and he trembled slightly as he pointed.

"He can't get through the valley entrance, the right slope is impassable, and the south is a dead end. He only has the north entrance left. Now he's moving grenade launchers and guards there, and his officers are moving too. He'll throw all his last fighting men over there and concentrate his forces for a breakout."

Li Yunlong glanced at him.

"You dare to gamble, kid?"

"They're already gambling."

These words left Li Yunlong speechless. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Zhang Dabiao, who had just finished changing a magazine, heard this and turned around to curse, "You little brat, can't you talk back to me like that?"

Zhao Weiguo ignored him and only looked at Li Yunlong.

"We can't block the north entrance directly. If we do, Zhou Dahu's men, who were already weakened by the grenade launchers, won't stand a chance against the Japanese counterattack. We need to make him back half a step and open the entrance."

Li Yunlong raised his eyebrows.

"Let them out?"

"Let them in."

Zhao Weiguo scratched the ground twice with the butt of his rifle, but the ground was frozen solid, and the marks left by the butt were very shallow.

"The entrance to the north is narrow, with a gentle slope inside. As soon as the Japanese see the gap, they'll push their men in. The first to go in, followed by the rest, with mules, horses, and wounded soldiers crammed outside. Zhou Dahu will hide men on both sides, waiting until they've crossed the gap before attacking."

Zhang Dabiao stared at the two dirt marks on the ground.

"A pocket inside a pocket?"

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

Li Yunlong threw away the flattened cigarette, the tobacco shreds scattering on the frozen ground.

"Messenger!"

A disheveled young soldier rushed over, his face covered in gunpowder and sweat. His cotton-padded jacket had been ripped open at the front, revealing the blackened cotton underneath. Li Yunlong grabbed his collar and pulled him forward half a step.

"Go to the north entrance and find Zhou Dahu. Tell him not to block the way. Move halfway in. After that, attack from both sides. Understand?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Deliver the exact words. If he doesn't understand, just say it's what I said: don't try to fight the Japanese to the death at the border. Let the man in, then close the gate and fight."

The young soldier turned and ran, the gravel under his feet making a loud crunching sound.

Li Yunlong roared at Zhang Dabiao again, "Dabiao, keep a close watch on the valley entrance. If Yamada splits his forces and turns back, this will be the last line of defense."

Zhang Dabiao pushed the machine gun mount forward, and the butt of the gun hit the earthen embankment with a dull thud.

"Don't worry, Commander. If they peek this way, I'll give them a haircut."

Kong Jie was helped down the right slope by two soldiers. His left arm was bandaged with a strip of cloth, which had turned black, and blood was seeping from underneath, dripping down his wrist onto the frozen ground. When he heard these words, he gasped for breath, his chest heaving violently.

"Li Yunlong, don't really let the gap widen."

Li Yunlong glanced at him sideways.

"Kong Erlengzi, you're still alive?"

"I won't die even if you die." Kong Jie glanced down into the valley, his facial muscles taut, a dried scab of blood clinging to his cheekbone. "If the North Pass falls, all our previous efforts will have been for nothing."

Zhao Weiguo squatted on the ground and added another stroke to the mud seal.

"If there's a small opening, Yamada will be able to penetrate it. If Zhou Dahu nails himself to the breach, a single volley of Japanese grenade launchers won't be enough to hold out his men."

Kong Jie stared at him for a moment.

"You little rascal, you really know how to use human lives as a weapon."

Zhao Weiguo looked up.

"If the accounts aren't settled clearly, even more people will die."

Kong Jie didn't say anything more. He sat down against the earthen bank, his left arm hanging down, his right hand still gripping the gun, his knuckles turning white.

On the north side, the messenger had already crossed a rocky slope. He was running so fast that the stones under his feet loosened, and he tripped and fell, scraping his knee until it bled. He got up and ran again.

Zhou Dahu was lying on a ridge.

The Second Battalion arrived in a hurry, running along mountain roads all the way. Many of them didn't even have time to drink water, their lips were chapped, and their faces were covered in dust.

The first two platoons had just encountered the Japanese rearguard when about ten of them were shot down by the Type 38 rifles. Zhou Dahu personally moved the machine gun onto the earthen beam and fired half a magazine. The barrel was so hot it was smoking, and a red mark was burned on his palm.

"Battalion Commander, the Japanese are gathering this way."

Zhou Dahu looked up and saw that his face was covered in black ash, with only the whites of his eyes shining.

"I saw them. They're all coming towards me, damn it."

The messenger rushed to his side, almost burying his head in the ground, his chest heaving like a bellows.

"Commander Li ordered, 'Don't block it directly. Let it in halfway. Once it's in, close the gate and start fighting.'"

Zhou Dahu was stunned.

"What?"

The messenger was panting so hard his throat was hoarse.

"His exact words were, 'Don't fight the Japanese head-on at the gate. Let them in, then close the gate and fight.'"

Zhou Dahu cursed.

"Damn it, Commander Li's audacity must have been fueled by artillery shells."

The deputy battalion commander lay beside him, his throat dry with anxiety, and the skin on his lips peeling off.

"Battalion Commander, are you really going to let us have it?"

Zhou Dahu looked back. The gentle slope inside the north entrance was covered with loose rocks and low trees, making it impossible for someone lying down to see from the outside. About ten feet further in was a bend in the ditch; once the enemy rushed in, turning back would be difficult.

He gritted his teeth, and the muscles in his cheeks bulged.

"Second Company, hide in the rocky hollow on the left. Third Company, behind the low slope on the right. Wait for my shot, then let the Japanese get close and fire."

"What about the first company?"

"He kept pretending to be a coward."

The deputy battalion commander's eyes widened.

Zhou Dahu slapped him on the helmet with a dull thud.

"I told you to pretend to be a coward, not to actually be one. Back off, and make a mess of it. Don't fucking back off too far, or I'll kill you."

The order was given, and the firepower at the north pass immediately weakened. The company that had been holding the pass retreated hastily and awkwardly. Some fell, some dragged the wounded, and the machine guns stopped firing. Seeing the firepower cut off, the Japanese rearguard immediately rushed forward.

Yamada stood at the bottom of the valley, on the north side.

He saw the gap. The Eighth Route Army's firepower had dispersed, and some people were retreating from the north entrance.

A bodyguard warned, "Major, this might be a trap."

Yamada raised his hand and slapped him across the face. The sound was crisp and clear, and the guard's face immediately swelled up on one side.

"There must be a trap, but we're running out of time. The Eighth Route Army is poorly equipped and has very little ammunition. If we can just charge out in one go..."

Yamada held his military sword across his chest and roared out the order.

"Charge in! Second wave, follow up! Grenade launchers, fire on both flanks! Quick!"

The remaining strength of the Japanese troops rushed towards the north entrance, the gravel under their feet flying everywhere, and their bayonets gleaming coldly in the smoke.

The first wave, about thirty men, crouched low and rushed through the opening. Zhou Dahu's company retreated even more chaotically, with one soldier deliberately dropping a broken canteen. Japanese soldiers stepped over the canteen, bayonets pointed forward, their ferocious expressions like those of demons.

Zhou Dahu lay prone in the stone hollow on the left, his face pressed against the frozen mud, with ice shards in the mud pricking his cheekbones.

He listened to the footsteps. One step, two steps, three steps.

The first wave got through. The second wave entered the gate. The third wave is still stuck outside. Yamada's guards also came in.

Zhou Dahu pressed the butt of his gun against his shoulder, where his cotton-padded coat was soaked with sweat and blood, cold and stiff.

"beat."

A gunshot rang out.

Fire erupted simultaneously from three sides: the stone hollow on the left, the low slope on the right, and the back edge of the bend in the ditch.

The Japanese vanguard was stunned. They had just crossed the north pass, with their own men still crowding behind them, when the company in front suddenly stopped and turned to fire. Gunfire rang out from both sides, close to their ears, and bullets pushed them towards the center. A grenade launcher soldier, who had just knelt down, was shot and knocked down; the grenade launcher bounced twice on the ground. The assistant gunner, clutching a grenade pack, tried to run, but slipped and tumbled into a ditch.

Zhou Dahu stood up halfway and fired two shots in quick succession.

"Close the door and beat the dog!"

The men of the Second Battalion roared in unison, their voices echoing back from the three stone walls, making everyone's ears ring.

The opening that had just been cleared was blocked again by two machine guns. The third wave of Japanese troops was trapped outside; those in front couldn't go back, and those behind couldn't get in. The area inside and outside the north gate was packed together, bayonets clashing, rifle butts hitting rifle butts, and shouts in Japanese creating a chaotic mess.

Yamada paused for a moment at the mouth.

He saw the fire from both sides. He saw a series of shots turn around. He saw the gentle slope he had considered his escape route turn into a narrow killing field.

His teeth were clenched so hard they were grinding together, and the veins on his temples were bulging.

"Forward! Don't stop! Charge forward!"

The guards rushed in front of him and returned fire.

Zhao Weiguo had by then climbed to the high ground on the side of the north entrance. This place wasn't far from the entrance, but the slope was steep, and the ground was covered with loose stones and withered grass, the grass frosted over and crumbling at the slightest touch. As he climbed the last few steps, he grabbed a section of tree root with his right hand. The root loosened, and he slid down half a foot, the loose stones rolling down with him. Shuanzi grabbed his ankle from behind, pulling him back, his hands frozen purple, gripping tightly.

"Don't make a sound."

Zhao Weiguo rested his gun in the crevice between the rocks. His breaths were short, each exhale accompanied by a white mist.

Five bullets. I fired two on the way here, took down a grenade launcher soldier for Zhou Dahu's men, and knocked down a sergeant carrying a military flag. I have three bullets left in my gun.

The north entrance was packed with people, and smoke from the gunpowder covered half of the gentle slope. Yamada's officer's overcoat was torn and his epaulets were covered in mud, but he still had four bodyguards around him. The four men surrounded him tightly, stopping every time Yamada stopped, like four walls of flesh.

Zhao Weiguo did not rush to fire, but waited for an opportunity.

Inside the North Gate, Zhou Dahu's machine gun jammed.

Taking advantage of the gap in machine gun fire, the Japanese troops charged forward.

Yamada indeed raised his military sword.

"assault!"

His body emerged from behind the guard's shoulder.

Zhao Weiguo pulled the trigger.

The gunshots were swallowed up by the chaotic gunfire from the north gate.

Yamada's sword froze in mid-air. He glanced down at his chest, where a small hole had appeared, blood quickly seeping from his uniform and staining the skin a dark hue. He took a step back, but his foot missed its mark, and he crashed into the guard.

The guard reached out to help.

When the second bullet struck, the guard's arm drooped as if broken, and the gun slipped from his hand.

Yamada fell to the ground.

He wasn't dead. He could still make a sound, and his hand was still gripping the hilt of his knife, but the sound couldn't travel out; all around him were gunshots and shouts. The people around him surrounded him, trying to drag him away. The Japanese soldiers in front couldn't hear the new orders, and the Japanese soldiers behind were still pushing their way in.

The Japanese troops inside the north gate were thrown into chaos. Some continued to charge forward, crashing into the 1st Company of the 2nd Battalion and being knocked down by rifle butts. Others turned to retreat, but their retreat was blocked by machine gun fire. Several wounded soldiers dropped their weapons, raised their hands above their heads, and shouted unintelligible Japanese.

Zhou Dahu did not stop firing.

"Those with guns, shoot. Those unarmed, keep them."

The changes at the north entrance can also be seen from the valley entrance.

Li Yunlong stood behind the earthen embankment, staring at the Japanese army formations amidst the smoke of battle, his eyes narrowed and his lips tightly pursed.

"Yamada got taken down by that brat?"

When Zhao Weiguo returned from Beikou, his knees were covered in dirt, and his hands were still bleeding, with blood dripping from his fingers onto the butt of his rifle.

Li Yunlong turned his head and called out, "Has Staff Officer Luo returned yet?"

"You're back!"

Staff Officer Luo had just run from the direction of the valley entrance; his hat was askew, his face was covered in dust and sweat, and his cotton trousers had a hole in the knee. Behind him were two soldiers who could speak Japanese, one of whom had lost his voice from shouting and could only speak in breathy breaths.

Li Yunlong pointed to the bottom of the valley.

"Shout. Tell them their major was killed by us, and that if they drop their guns, we won't kill them."

Staff Officer Luo ripped off his hat, wiped the dust off his face, and the dust mixed with sweat left black streaks.

"Surrender and you won't be killed?"

Li Yunlong cursed, "Are you talking to the Japanese with written documents? Just shout, 'Throw your guns and live, hold your guns and die!'"

Staff Officer Luo nodded, stood on a rock covered in frost, slipped, steadied himself, and called out for the first time in Japanese.

There was no response from the bottom of the valley. Gunfire continued.

He called it a second time.

Inside the northern entrance, a wounded Japanese soldier looked up at Yamada lying on the ground, then looked around. Zhou Dahu's men had blocked the entrance, Zhang Dabiao's machine gun was still firing from the direction of the valley entrance, and Kong Jie's men had retaken the earthen embankment on the right slope.

The wounded soldier threw his gun to the ground. The wooden stock hit the stone with a soft, yet clear, sound. After the first one, more Japanese soldiers followed suit, throwing their guns to the ground.

Other Japanese soldiers emerged from behind rocks, cart shafts, and beside dead horses. Some had their hands raised, some were supporting their wounded legs, and some knelt on the ground, refusing to raise their heads. Several die-hard sergeants tried to curse, but were tackled to the ground by wounded soldiers nearby, and their guns were taken away.

Li Yunlong's facial muscles twitched slightly as he watched this scene.

"Damn it, we actually won."

Kong Jie leaned against the earthen embankment, his right hand still gripping the gun, his left arm hanging down, blood soaking through the cloth strips, dripping down his wrist.

"This battle was brilliantly fought; it's brought us honor."

Ding Wei rushed over from the other side, a pencil stub still tucked behind his ear, half of it bitten flat. His face was thicker with gunpowder than the others, as if he had crawled all the way from some observation post.

"Hehe, now we need to settle the accounts. How many men does Yamada have? How many boxes? How many wounded? Where are the prisoners being taken?"

Li Yunlong glared at him.

"All you ever talk about is splitting the profits."

Ding Wei did not allow it.

"If we don't settle accounts, what will you use to argue with the brigade headquarters?"

Just as Li Yunlong was about to start cursing, Zhao Weiguo spoke first.

"First, disarm the Japanese soldiers."

Several people were looking at him.

Zhao Weiguo stared at the bottom of the valley, his eyes bloodshot and his eyes dark, he hadn't slept much for several days.

"The prisoners were separated. Officers, grenadiers, and supply soldiers were taken in separate groups."

Li Yunlong looked at the blood on his hands. The blood had dried and then new blood was smeared on, and his fingernails were full of black.

"What have you thought of now, you little rascal?"

Zhao Weiguo did not answer immediately.

In the center of the valley, the large wooden crates remained in their original positions. They were wrapped in several layers of tarpaulin, and the ropes had been cut and were scattered on the ground. A corner of one crate had been smashed open, revealing dark wooden planks inside. Rust-preventing oil seeped from the cracks in the planks, and the smell, mixed with gunpowder and blood, filled the air, making people cough.

Before Yamada collapsed, he transferred all the able-bodied people to the North Gate.

But he left a squad behind to watch the boxes.

Zhao Weiguo lowered the muzzle of his gun.

"That's what they're desperately trying to get rid of."