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

Before dawn, the sound of horses' hooves came from the direction of the valley entrance.

Zhao Weiguo squatted beside the machine tool box, clutching a piece of oilcloth in his hand, stuffing it into the gap in the box lid. The dew was heavy at night, and the anti-rust grease had softened due to the moisture. Not feeling at ease, he got up every two hours to check on it.

The sound of horses' hooves grew closer, crunching crisply on the gravel.

He looked up, squinting as he gazed towards the valley entrance. The morning mist hadn't yet dissipated, obscuring everything in a hazy gray, with only a few blurry figures emerging from it.

Four people, four horses.

The one in the lead, dressed in a gray military uniform, stood ramrod straight and had a steady stance, clearly a seasoned rider. The three behind him were younger; one carried a leather bag, one a rifle, and the other a roll of oiled paper.

Li Yunlong crawled out of the tent, his trousers not yet tied up, and glanced over there while pulling up his waistband.

"Who is it so early in the morning?"

Staff Officer Luo came down the slope, walking faster than usual, his shoes slipping twice on the wet stones.

"People from the brigade headquarters."

Li Yunlong's hand stopped at his waistband.

"You're here so fast?"

Staff Officer Luo didn't answer. He straightened his collar and buttoned it all the way up. One button was missing, and the collar was gaping open. He tried to cover it up with his hand, but couldn't.

When the four horses reached the valley entrance, the man in the lead dismounted. As he landed, his boots rubbed against the gravel. He looked down and saw that his boots were covered in mud and his trousers were half-wet.

He ignored all of that and glanced up at the bottom of the valley.

The body had been removed, but the blood remained. The dark red stains in the cracks of the rocks couldn't be washed off; they dried and resembled rust. A burnt smell lingered in the air, a mixture of gunpowder smoke and horse manure, making one's throat tighten.

The man's gaze swept across the valley floor before finally settling on Zhao Weiguo.

Zhao Weiguo was still squatting beside the box, clutching an oilcloth in his hand. His trousers below the knees were soaked with dew, clinging to his calves. He didn't stand up or move away; he just looked up at it.

The man walked over at a moderate pace, his boots clicking on the gravel. He stopped three steps away from Zhao Weiguo, first looking at the box, then at Zhao Weiguo.

"You're Zhao Weiguo?"

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"My surname is Ma, and I'm a staff officer in the brigade headquarters."

Staff Officer Ma spoke with little expression on his face and in a low voice, but he enunciated each word clearly, as if reading a telegram. His eyes lingered on Zhao Weiguo for a moment before shifting to Li Yunlong.

"Commander Li, who exactly is commanding this battle?"

Li Yunlong had just finished fastening his trousers when he heard this, and his hand loosened again.

What do you mean?

Staff Officer Ma took a notebook out of his briefcase, opened it, and tucked a pencil stub between his fingers.

"The brigade commander sent me to verify the battle results. The battle report says that your 1st Regiment, Independent Regiment, and 3rd Regiment jointly ambushed and annihilated a Japanese battalion. But the message received by the brigade headquarters says—" He paused, tapping the paper with his pencil, "that the actual commander of this battle was a twelve-year-old child."

The valley floor fell silent for a moment.

The wind blew in from the mouth of the valley, making the edges of the oilcloth flutter and clatter.

Li Yunlong's face darkened.

"Who the hell is gossiping?"

Staff Officer Ma ignored his anger and turned his gaze back to Zhao Weiguo.

"Zhao Weiguo, I have a few questions for you. Answer them truthfully."

Zhao Weiguo stood up, his knees numb from squatting. He stumbled as he rose and had to steady himself by holding onto the corner of the box. His palms were covered in black rust-preventing oil from the oilcloth, which he couldn't wipe off.

"You ask."

Staff Officer Ma opened his notebook, the pencil tip hovering above the paper.

Who devised the ambush plan?

"I."

"Where are the minefields being laid?"

"I."

"Firepower configuration?"

"I."

The three "I" characters are all shorter and more concise than the last.

Staff Officer Ma's pencil stub remained suspended in mid-air, not falling. He looked up at Zhao Weiguo, then looked down again and wrote a few words in his notebook.

"Come on. Take me to the bottom of the valley."

Zhao Weiguo stuffed the oilcloth into the seam of the box, dusted off his hands, and turned to walk towards the bottom of the valley. Staff Officer Ma followed behind, and the three young men behind him also caught up. The one carrying the leather bag took out a small notebook and started taking notes as they walked.

Li Yunlong wanted to go, but Staff Officer Luo pulled him back.

"Let them go."

Li Yunlong shook off his hand.

"I'm not at ease."

Staff Officer Luo lowered his voice.

"If you go with him, Staff Officer Ma will think you've already taught him the lines."

Li Yunlong opened his mouth, then closed it again, finally cursing, squatting down next to the box and taking out a cigarette to light.

The craters at the bottom of the valley have not yet been filled.

Zhao Weiguo walked to the first blasting pit, squatted down, and stuck his fingers into the loose soil, feeling for a broken end of hemp rope. He pulled the rope out; the end was charred black by the gunpowder, and the fibers had burst open.

"Pull the fuse." He held up the end of the fuse for Staff Officer Ma to see. "It's not an electric detonator."

Staff Officer Ma squatted down next to him, the pencil stub scratching on the paper.

Why not use electric detonators?

"No." Zhao Weiguo threw away the rope end, dusted his hands off, and said, "Three ropes twisted together make one fire rope; that's enough."

He stood up, walked a dozen steps, and arrived at the second pit. This pit was a size larger than the first, and a patch of rubble around it had been blasted away, while the soil on the slope had been turned up, revealing the yellow mud underneath.

Zhao Weiguo pointed to a crooked tree by the pit. More than a dozen pieces of shrapnel were embedded in the trunk, and the wood was torn apart, with white wood fibers bursting out like thorns.

"Look at this tree."

Staff Officer Ma looked up.

"The shrapnel came from this direction," Zhao Weiguo pointed towards the bend in the valley. "The Japanese soldiers got here and turned right at the bend; the mule carts were crammed together, people pressed against each other."

Staff Officer Ma followed his finger and saw a dark red mark on the stone wall at the bend in the valley, which shone after drying. It was blood, left by someone who had been blown away and crashed into the stone wall.

He didn't say anything, but tapped the paper a few times with the stub of his pencil.

Zhao Weiguo continued walking forward.

When we reached the deepest part of the valley, there was a large, dark reddish-brown stain on the ground, completely dried and hard to the touch. Scattered around were scraps of cloth, buttons, and a mangled leather boot with half a leg still attached to the sole.

Zhao Weiguo walked around and squatted down next to a pile of spent shell casings.

"This is where the fighting is most intense."

He pointed to the traces of corpses around him. There were more than a dozen dark red and human-shaped marks on the ground, some lying face up, some face down, and some curled up in a ball. Next to each mark were scattered bullet casings, the copper casings gleaming in the morning light, like copper coins scattered on the ground.

"Look at these marks." Zhao Weiguo stood up and pointed to the nearest one with his toe. "This one died face down, with seven bullet holes in his back. The one next to him was face up, his chest was blown open. And the one a little further away, he fell sideways, still clutching his gun."

Staff Officer Ma squatted down to take a look, then stood up again, his gaze sweeping across the entire area.

Staff Officer Ma did not respond.

He stood beside the pile of spent cartridges, looking at Zhao Weiguo, his gaze changed. It wasn't a questioning look anymore; it was something indescribable, as if he were looking at something that shouldn't be there.

"Have you been to school?"

Zhao Weiguo put his hands in his pockets, his fingertips touching the crumpled piece of paper.

"I've read quite a lot of books."

Staff Officer Ma didn't press the matter. He lowered his head, wrote the last line in his notebook, then closed it and tucked it under his arm.

"Let's go. Let's go back."

As they walked back, Staff Officer Ma walked in front, and Zhao Weiguo followed behind. Staff Officer Ma's boots clattered on the gravel, while Zhao Weiguo's cloth shoes made almost no sound, as light as a cat's.

When they returned to the valley entrance, Li Yunlong was still squatting next to the box, with cigarette butts scattered around his feet. He saw Staff Officer Ma's expression, stood up, and seemed about to ask a question but didn't.

Staff Officer Ma walked up to Li Yunlong and stopped.

"The results are true."

He said three words and then took an envelope out of his bag. The envelope was made of kraft paper, its edges damp with sweat, yellowed and limp. He handed the envelope to Li Yunlong.

"The brigade commander's own handwriting."

Li Yunlong took it, ran his finger along the seal, and found it wasn't sealed; only a corner was folded. He pulled out the paper and unfolded it.

The note was small, about the width of a palm, and the handwriting was messy, with ink smudges in several places. Li Yunlong squinted at it for a long time, his lips moving as if he were reciting it silently.

After reading it aloud, he handed the note to Zhao Weiguo.

Zhao Weiguo took it.

The note had two lines written on it:

"Keep the machine tool with you for now, I'll come check on it in a few days. As for Zhao Weiguo, keep him; I need him."

The handwriting was stiff, with each stroke forceful, as if written by pressing hard against the pen. The signature only included the surname, without any official title.

Zhao Weiguo read the note twice, then folded it and stuffed it into his pocket.

Li Yunlong watched him from the side, a slight smile appearing on his lips before he looked away.

Do you know how much this note weighs?

Zhao Weiguo did not answer.

"The old brigade commander doesn't write notes easily," Li Yunlong poked Zhao Weiguo's shoulder with his finger. "If he did, it means he approves of you. He said, 'Keep them, they'll be useful.' From now on, anyone who wants to touch you will have to get past him first, hehe."

Staff Officer Ma coughed beside him.

"Commander Li, I've relayed the brigade commander's message. Regarding the machine tools, the brigade commander said he'll handle it personally; don't touch them."

Li Yunlong waved his hand.

"Don't worry, this kid treasures those boxes even more than I do; he won't let anyone touch them."

Staff Officer Ma glanced at Zhao Weiguo but said nothing more. He mounted his horse, pausing as his boots touched the stirrups, as if he wanted to say something.

The four horses trotted away and disappeared into the morning mist at the valley entrance.

Li Yunlong and the others could no longer hear the sound of horses' hooves before turning around.

"Kid, do you know how dangerous it was to say those three 'I's' just now?"

Zhao Weiguo squatted back down next to the box and picked up the oilcloth to continue stuffing the gaps in the box.

He asked a question, and I answered it.

"That was too impulsive!" Li Yunlong squatted down next to him and lowered his voice. "When they ask you who decided on the plan, couldn't you have said, 'The regimental commander and I discussed it together'?"

Zhao Weiguo paused for a moment.

He looked up and glanced at Li Yunlong.

Would you believe it?

Li Yunlong was stunned.

Zhao Weiguo stuffed the oilcloth into the gap and pressed it down with his fingers.

"He heard rumors before he came and knows who was in charge. If I drag you into it, he'll suspect you taught me to lie. If I tell the truth, he'll have nothing to say."

Li Yunlong opened his mouth, then closed it again, and finally cursed.

"Damn it, what's wrong with your brain?"

Zhao Weiguo didn't answer. He stood up and patted the oil off his hands.

He glanced towards the valley floor. The morning mist had mostly dissipated, and he could see the winding valley path leading in, with footprints and drag marks left from yesterday on the slopes on both sides.

The note in his pocket was digging into his thigh; it was hard, like a piece of iron.

He didn't take it out to look at it again, but he had already memorized the words on the note.

"Keep Zhao Weiguo around; I have a use for him."

Zhao Weiguo knew this old brigade commander very well. With his approval, he could say that he had finally secured his place in the Eighth Route Army.

After calming himself down, he squatted back down and continued stuffing oilcloth into the gaps between the boxes. His fingers were white from being soaked in rust-preventive oil, and his fingernails were full of black grime. He wiped each finger one by one, and after finishing, he began to check the iron hoops on the second box.

Chen An ran down the slope, his footsteps making a clattering sound as he stepped on the gravel.

"Brother Zhao, Staff Officer Luo said he wants you to go there."

Zhao Weiguo stood up, his knees were numb again, and he held onto the corner of the box to ease the pain.

"Walk."

As he walked up the slope, his hands were in his pockets, and his fingertips touched the note.

Staff Officer Luo waited by a rock on the slope, holding a notebook in his hand, which was open, with a pencil stub between his fingers.

"Staff Officer Ma chatted with me for a few minutes before he left."

Zhao Weiguo stopped.

"He said that at your age, you're on the brigade's payroll." Staff Officer Luo closed his notebook, tapping the cover twice with the stub of his pencil. "Be more careful in the future, and don't let anyone find fault with you."

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"knew."

Staff Officer Luo looked at him, and his lips moved slightly.

Zhao Weiguo turned around and walked back.

When I got to the box, Li Yunlong was gone. The cigarette butt was still on the ground, rolled twice in the wind.

Zhao Weiguo squatted down, picked up the cigarette butt, stubbed it out, and stuffed it into his pocket.

He then continued to inspect the box.

He checked each box one by one, examining the iron hoops, tarpaulins, wooden nails, and serial numbers. He squatted down to look at each box, running his fingers over the red paint marks on the lid to make sure there were no loose parts or cracks.

When he found the last box, his finger paused on the iron hoop.

There was a new scratch on the iron hoop, not deep, but very obvious, left by metal touching metal.

His brow furrowed, and he crouched down even lower, bringing his face closer to examine the scratches. The scratches were pointing upwards, as if something had rubbed against the bottom of the box.

He stood up and looked around.

Four soldiers stood guard around the crate, their guns pointed outwards, their backs to the crate. Their faces were covered in ash and blood, their eyes fixed on the valley entrance; no one looked towards the crate.

Zhao Weiguo kept quiet.

He squatted back down, covered the tarpaulin again, and pressed the edges down firmly with his fingers.