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

Xinghualing, 10:30.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, its clear light filling the courtyard.

Shell casings, broken bricks, bloodstains, and documents scattered on the ground, blown about by the wind.

The old locust tree trunk was covered with bullet holes, and several pieces of bark were peeled off and curled up.

At the entrance to the classroom on the east side, the last thirty or so Japanese soldiers were still putting up a stubborn resistance.

A grenade was thrown out of the window and exploded in the yard.

Shrapnel grazed the old locust tree, shaving off another piece of bark.

A dim light shone through the window, behind which lay the dark muzzle of a gun.

Someone was shouting Japanese from behind the window, their voice as hoarse as a broken gong.

Liu Dashan squatted against the wall, his face covered in sweat.

My left arm was grazed by shrapnel, leaving a gash where the skin and flesh were torn open and blood was dripping down my arm.

He ignored it, tore off a piece of captured Japanese bandage with his teeth, wrapped it around his hand twice, and tightened it very much.

"Grenade launcher."

A soldier carried a grenade launcher over, squatted down against the wall, and stuffed the shells into it.

The shell flew out and hit the door of the classroom on the east side.

With a loud crash, half of the door frame collapsed, and bricks and wood fragments flew all over the ground.

"One more shot."

The second shot hit the window, shattering the window paper and sandbag together, sending dust flying everywhere.

Liu Dashan stood up and waved his hand.

The stickers were posted for all three classes at the same time.

One class crept up from under the window to the base of the wall and threw in the last grenade.

A squad rushed in from the side of the door, bayonets aimed at the Japanese soldiers crouching in the corner.

One class went around to the back and blocked the back door.

Half of the wall of the east classroom collapsed, bricks hit the desks, and the desk legs broke.

The dust was so thick it made it hard to open your eyes.

Several shots were fired from the direction of the back door.

Two Japanese soldiers tried to slip out through the back door. One was knocked down as soon as he poked his body out, while the other dragged him back. Bullets hit the door frame, sending splinters of wood flying.

When the dust settled, only a dozen or so Japanese soldiers remained alive inside.

Some leaned against the corner of the wall, some squatted under the table, and some lay motionless on the ground.

An old sergeant, around fifty years old, leaned against the corner of the wall. His face was covered with deep wrinkles, like a cracked riverbed.

He was shot in the arm, and blood soaked through his sleeve, dripping onto the ground.

He was still shouting in Japanese, his voice hoarse but very strong.

Clutching a grenade, the safety pin already pulled, thumb pressed against the fuse, he forced the new recruit beside him to commit seppuku.

The recruits were only sixteen or seventeen years old, their faces covered in tears, their hands trembling.

The rifle fell to the ground, and he covered his face with his hands, too ashamed to look up.

The assault battalion's machine guns fired a burst, bullets hitting the wall next to the old sergeant, sending brick fragments flying.

The old sergeant was hit in the chest by shrapnel, his body paused for a moment, and then he fell down.

The grenade rolled out of his hand and spun twice on the ground.

Everyone lay down.

The grenade didn't explode; the fuse was damaged.

The new recruits knelt on the ground with their hands raised above their heads.

My trouser leg was soaked; I had peed all over the floor.

Several Japanese soldiers threw down their guns and knelt on the ground, muttering something in gibberish.

Another Japanese soldier tried to reach for a grenade at his waist, but an old soldier next to him stepped on his wrist, and another soldier held a bayonet to his neck.

According to battlefield rules, control the hands first, then tie the person up.

"Tie your hands."

Liu Dashan kicked the tattered cloth at his feet.

"Gag them in the mouth, so they don't bite their tongues."

It's exactly 11 o'clock.

The Battle of Xinghualing has come to a complete end.

Five hundred elite troops wiped out the Sakata Regiment headquarters and the guard company.

Approximately 120 people were killed and 63 were captured, including the chief of staff and Sakata himself.

Seven of our side were killed and fifteen were seriously wounded.

Zhao Weiguo stood in the courtyard, looking at the corpse on the ground.

There were Japanese soldiers and our own people.

He knelt down and closed the eyes of a fallen soldier.

The soldier was young, his mouth was open, and his face still looked childish.

He got up and walked to the door of the main room.

Chen An squatted down next to Sakata and changed his bandages.

Sakata's face was pale, his lips were purple, the bleeding from his side had stopped, and there was still a faint red seepage on the bandage.

Chen An sprinkled sulfanilamide powder on Sakata, who twitched in pain but gritted his teeth and didn't make a sound, still trying to maintain the dignity of a regimental commander.

Zhao Weiguo squatted down in front of Sakata.

"Central Army Battalion, which route should we take?"

He spoke in Japanese, and his pronunciation wasn't very accurate, but Sakata understood him.

Sakata's eyes widened.

He didn't expect the Chinese officer to speak Japanese.

"You were trained by the Japanese army?"

Sakata's voice was hoarse.

Zhao Weiguo didn't answer, but asked again, "Which route will the central army battalion take?"

Sakata shut his mouth and stopped talking.

He closed his eyes, his face clearly displaying two words: he wanted to die.

"Seppuku."

Sakata's voice was very soft, "Let me commit seppuku."

Zhao Weiguo stood up and looked at him.

Sakata's face was as white as a sheet of paper under the light.

"Dream on. You're worth more than a corpse right now."

He turned and walked out of the main room.

Chen An followed behind and asked in a low voice, "What did he say?"

"The central army contingent will approach Tiger's Mouth at 6:00 AM tomorrow."

Zhao Weiguo didn't turn his head. "If he doesn't say, his chief of staff will."

The regimental chief of staff was brought in.

He was in his forties, wearing glasses, one of the lenses of which was broken.

They saw that the flagpole in the main room was empty; the regimental flag was gone.

His face turned deathly pale, his lips trembled, and his legs went weak.

Where's the flag?

His voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's buzz.

Staff Officer Luo placed the sack on the table, untied the opening, and revealed the blue-and-white regimental flag inside.

The chief of staff's legs buckled, and he knelt directly on the ground.

"I said."

His voice trembled, "The central army battalion will approach Tiger's Mouth along the same route at six o'clock tomorrow morning. They don't know the regimental headquarters has been captured."

Staff Officer Luo jotted it down in his notebook, writing with a pencil at lightning speed.

Zhao Weiguo looked at the chief of staff for two seconds.

"Write an urgent report. The signalman rides back to the brigade headquarters at full speed. Tell the old brigade commander: Sakata has been captured alive, the regimental flag has been seized, and the central battalion will approach Tiger's Mouth at six o'clock tomorrow morning."

Staff Officer Luo nodded, tore off a page, and quickly began to write.

The handwriting is crooked but still legible.

After writing it, he folded it into a small piece and stuffed it into a soldier's hand.

"Hurry. We must reach the brigade headquarters before dawn."

The soldier nodded, mounted his horse, and disappeared into the night.

The inventory of the seized items has begun.

Staff Officer Luo squatted in the main room, scribbling on a notebook with a pencil.

A regimental flag, blue background with white lettering, reads: 224th Infantry Regiment.

There were two boxes of classified files, locked in metal boxes. Once pried open, they contained documents and maps.

A stack of telegrams from the North China Area Army, dated from last month to today.

The regiment's roster was a book with the words "224th Infantry Regiment Officers' Roster" written on the cover.

A one-month sweep plan was prepared, marking the attack routes and timelines for each unit.

Two telephones and a number of light and heavy weapons.

After Staff Officer Luo finished writing the list, he handed the notebook to Zhao Weiguo.

When the pencil tip became dull, he bit the wood with his teeth to expose the lead, and continued writing.

Zhao Weiguo took the notebook and scanned it.

His gaze lingered on the "Unit Roster" and the "One-Month Sweep Plan".

The roster listed the names, ranks, hometowns, and enlistment dates of all officers in the Sakata Regiment.

The sweep plan marked the attack routes, timelines, and supply depot locations for each unit.

"These two things are the most important. More important than guns and cannons. Guns and cannons are gone once they're used up, but these things can last for a month."

He walked to the sack, took out the regimental flag, unfolded it, and glanced at it.

The fabric is a little yellowed, but the words are still clear.

If the Japanese army lost its regimental flag, the regimental commander would either commit suicide or be executed.

This flag is more important than Sakata's life.

He rolled up the flag and put it back in the sack.

A sudden warmth spread through my chest.

It's a system.

"Ding, mission phase achieved: Annihilate the Sakata Regiment vanguard battalion + capture the regimental commander alive + seize the regimental flag. Reward: 300 points. Current score: 520 points."

He closed his eyes.

The heat spread from my chest, down my spine, and flowed to my limbs.

My fingers and toes feel numb, like ants are crawling on them.

He couldn't quite describe the feeling, but his body seemed to have become a bit stronger.

He opened his eyes but didn't tell anyone.

He walked into the yard, picked up a broken oak gunstock, and tapped his thigh with his backhand.

My thigh muscles were hard, but I didn't feel any pain.

No dizziness, no blurred vision.

Another hurdle has been overcome.

Four o'clock in the morning.

Before dawn, a grayish-white line had already appeared on the eastern mountain ridge.

The torches on Xinghua Ridge have all been extinguished.

The bodies in the yard were dragged to the corner of the wall, piled up, and covered with straw mats.

The prisoners were tied together and squatted in the middle of the courtyard. Some were groaning softly, while others were already asleep.

Sakata was tied to the back of a mule, and his mouth was stuffed with cloth to prevent him from biting his tongue.

Blood was still seeping from my side, and there was a light red mark on the bandage.

His eyes were closed; it was unclear whether he was asleep or unconscious.

Zhao Weiguo ordered that the two boxes of files and the regimental flag be loaded onto mules first, and escorted by two squads.

"These two things are more important than people. If we lose them, this war will have been fought in vain."

Five hundred elite troops retreated into the mountain pass with prisoners, files, and the regimental flag.

The mule bells were all wrapped tightly with cloth, and the hooves were covered with cloth.

Not a single torch was lit.

The group stretched out in a line and disappeared into the night.

Some people were dozing off as they walked, their steps unsteady.

Someone was leaning against a mule, walking with their eyes closed.

Liu Dashan walked at the front, gently tapping the shoulders of the dozing people with the butt of his rifle.

"Wake up. We're not home yet."

Before dawn, the first fast horse galloped into the brigade headquarters.

The old brigade commander was smoking a pipe in his cave dwelling; the smoke was very pungent.

Hearing the sound of horses' hooves, he stood up and walked to the entrance of the cave dwelling.

The communications soldier jumped off his horse and handed him the note written by Staff Officer Luo.

The old brigade commander unfolded the note and glanced at it.

The words "Capture Sakata alive and seize the regimental flag" were written at the top of the note.

He stopped smoking.

Smoke escaped from between the fingers and spread throughout the cave dwelling.

He didn't move, staring at the note for five seconds.

"Damn it, good lad, you've really made me proud."