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

Early in the morning, a mule cart entered Xingshuping from the direction of Xinyituan.

The mule cart moved slowly, the mules' hooves creaking on the frozen ground. A man lay on the cart, his left leg in a cast, the cast covered in mud and bits of grass. He wore a gray cotton-padded jacket with three patches, the stitches rough, like those used for sewing burlap sacks.

His face was covered in dust, but he wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. One of the temples was broken off and was wrapped with cotton thread, which had been wrapped several times and was yellowish in color, indicating that it had been wrapped for a long time.

The messenger sent by Zhang Dabiao jumped off the mule cart and ran to Zhao Weiguo.

"Battalion Commander, the Regimental Commander sent me to deliver a man. He was rescued from a Japanese military factory and knows how to use machines. The Regimental Commander said he'll give him to you first."

Zhao Weiguo walked to the mule cart and looked at the people on it.

The man struggled to sit up; his leg in a cast was immobile. He braced himself against the cart floor with both hands, managing to sit up after a couple of attempts. He adjusted his glasses and looked at Zhao Weiguo.

"Zhao Tieshan. Thirty-six years old, mechanical engineering graduate of Leipzig University, engineer at the Hanyang Arsenal. He was captured by the Japanese army last year to do hard labor, and was rescued by your people last month."

Zhao Weiguo didn't reply, but simply extended his hand.

"Give me a handshake."

Zhao Tieshan paused for a moment, then reached out his hand.

Zhao Weiguo grasped it. His fingers paused briefly on Zhao Weiguo's palm and fingertips, then released it.

What did you do before?

Zhao Tieshan thought for a moment.

"Lathe modification. An old lathe is converted into a deep-hole fixture for machining gun barrels."

Zhao Weiguo hummed in agreement, but didn't say anything more.

"We've also developed automated feeding systems, driven by springs and gears, eliminating the need for manual labor."

"Where's the barrel cable?"

"I adjusted the gun barrel lines at the Hanyang Arsenal."

He said this without much expression, as if he were talking about something that had already been decided long ago.

Zhao Weiguo turned to look at Chen An.

"Call the gifted youth program over."

Chen An ran away.

Zhao Weiguo turned back to look at Zhao Tieshan.

"From today onwards, the repair team and the temporary workshop are under your command. You will also be responsible for teaching the youth training program. Your salary will be at the captain level; I will apply to the brigade headquarters for that."

Zhao Tieshan was stunned.

"I'm neither a soldier nor an officer?"

"You are the master I invited," Zhao Weiguo said.

Zhao Tieshan looked at him for two seconds. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back. He took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with his sleeve, and put them back on.

"Where is the workshop?" he asked.

Zhao Weiguo pointed to the side shed next to him.

The shed had adobe walls and a roof missing a few tiles, patched up with tarpaulin. Inside, there was a wooden table with captured German measuring tools on it: calipers, micrometers, dial indicators—all high-quality items, polished to a shine. Next to the table was a simplified structural diagram of the Type 96 heavy machine gun, drawn in charcoal, the lines crooked but legible. In the corner were piles of broken lathe parts, covered in mud and oil, some rusted, others chipped.

Next to it was a toolbox containing files, drill bits, reamers, and taps, all of which had been captured from the Japanese army.

Zhao Tieshan walked to the table and touched each item one by one.

His fingertips glided across the caliper's graduations, as if reading words. "German-made, 0.02 millimeters accurate." He scraped dust off the micrometer's anvil with his fingernail. "This will work, but it needs calibration."

He squatted down beside the pile of lathe parts, picked up a gear missing two teeth, and ran his fingers over the gaps. "It can be repaired. Just harden it to fill the gaps. It's 45# steel; the hardness can reach 50 on the Rockwell scale."

He picked up another bent shaft, tried to bend it with his hands, but couldn't. "This needs annealing. 780 degrees Celsius, hold for two hours, then cool with the furnace."

The inner bore of the bearing housing was worn too large; he reached in and felt it. "A bushing. The inner bore is machined larger, an interference fit, 0.03 to 0.05 millimeters."

The gifted youth class stood at the entrance of the side shed, watching Zhao Tieshan describe a pile of scrap iron as a production line. Shi Tou stood at the front, his eyes wide, his mouth agape, seemingly forgetting to close it. Xiao Man stood behind him, pencil and notebook in hand, writing something down, page after page.

Zhao Tieshan stood up, turned around, and looked at Zhao Weiguo.

"One month. Give me one month to produce the first batch of qualified gun barrels."

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

"Too hasty?"

Zhao Tieshan shook his head.

"We have steel, apprentices, and we can test it. But the steel can't be rail steel; it's too soft, and the gun barrel will explode. It needs to be military-grade, with a carbon content of 0.4 to 0.5%, hard enough, and tough enough."

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"I'll figure out the steel. You just need to teach and build it."

Zhao Tieshan adjusted his glasses, turned around, and looked at the gifted youth class.

"Starting today, three things every day: reading blueprints, sharpening tools, and adjusting rulers. Reading blueprints will teach you how to read part drawings; sharpening tools will teach you how to repair files and drill bits; adjusting rulers will teach you how to use calipers and micrometers. If you don't know something, ask me; I'll keep asking until you do."

The gifted youth class nodded.

Stone raised his hand.

"Master, I can't read the picture."

Zhao Tieshan looked at him.

"If you don't know how, learn. I'll teach you."

He walked to the table, picked up a part drawing, spread it on the table, and pointed to the lines on the drawing with his finger.

"This is the front view. This is the top view, from above. This is the side view, from the side. Align these three lines, and the shape of the part will appear."

Stone squatted down beside him, his eyes fixed on the blueprints, his brow furrowed, his lips moving as he silently recited them.

Xiaoman was taking notes beside her, the pencil scratching on the paper.

Zhao Tieshan picked up a file. The teeth of the file were worn smooth, and he ran his fingers over the surface of the teeth.

"Files need regular maintenance. If the teeth become worn down, they won't file anymore. Use a wire brush to brush along the grooves and remove the metal shavings stuck between the teeth."

He handed the file to Stone.

"You give it a try."

Shi Tou took the file and, imitating Zhao Tieshan, brushed the teeth with a wire brush. After a few strokes, the teeth of the file were revealed and became sharp.

"Alright," Zhao Tieshan said, "Remember, brush it after each use."

Stone nodded and put the file back in the toolbox.

---

That evening, Zhao Weiguo sat in the room with an oil lamp on the table. The wick was blackened from burning, and the light shone on the table.

He closed his eyes, and a string of numbers appeared in his mind.

50 kilograms of military-grade steel is enough to make 20 gun barrels, enough to equip a platoon. However, the current reserves are only enough for one replacement, and then they're depleted. If the gun barrel production line were running smoothly, producing one batch a month, it would take three months to accumulate enough materials for the next batch.

Industrial production lines cannot rely solely on captured equipment; we must be able to repair and build them ourselves.

He opened his eyes and turned the oil lamp up a little brighter.

---

The next morning, Staff Officer Qin rode into the village.

The horse was sweaty, its hooves pounding the frozen ground with a rapid thud. Staff Officer Qin dismounted, landing smoothly without stumbling; this time he had ridden fast, and his legs hadn't gone numb. His face was dusty, his eyes bloodshot, and his lips chapped with scabs.

He held a telegram in his hand and handed it to Zhao Weiguo.

"The Sakata Regiment has moved. Three infantry battalions plus one artillery company are advancing towards the Taihang Mountains from the direction of Niangziguan."

Zhao Weiguo took the telegram and glanced at it.

The telegram read: "The Sakata Regiment has been deployed, with approximately 3,800 troops and an attached artillery company, heading towards the Taihang Mountains. All units are on high alert."

He looked at the words "Sakata United" without saying a word.

Three thousand eight hundred men, three infantry battalions, and one artillery company. The Sakata Regiment was an elite force of the Japanese army, well-equipped, well-trained, and experienced in tough battles. They came from the direction of Niangziguan, and the journey from Niangziguan to Taihang would take three days of forced march and five days of slow march.

Three days.

He turned his head and looked towards the side shed. From inside came the sound of a file sharpening iron, a soft, steady, and gentle sound. Zhao Tieshan was teaching the gifted children how to sharpen knives.

The gun hasn't been made yet.

The battle has already begun.

He folded the telegram, put it in his pocket, and looked at Staff Officer Qin.

"What did the brigade commander say?"

Staff Officer Qin wiped the dust off his face.

"The brigade commander said that each unit should prepare independently and act upon orders. He also said one more thing."

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

He said, 'Tell that kid Zhao Weiguo to stay put and wait.'"

Zhao Weiguo didn't reply. He looked at the distant mountains, beyond which lay the direction of Niangziguan. The withered grass on the mountains swayed in the wind, casting long shadows.

Three days.

He turned and walked back to the side shed, where Zhao Tieshan was still teaching the gifted children to read maps. He walked over to Zhao Tieshan and squatted down.

"Master Zhao, speed up."

Zhao Tieshan looked up at him, saw the expression on his face, and without asking why, simply nodded.

"Okay. Speed ​​it up."