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

The brigade headquarters cave dwelling.

At night, the oil lamp rested on the corner of the table, and the wick formed a flower-like pattern.

The old brigade commander sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), with two sheets of paper spread out in front of him

One battle report from Tiger's Mouth, and one battle report from Apricot Blossom Ridge.

Staff Officer Luo's handwriting was crooked but clear, and the source of each number was marked.

The paper was captured from the Japanese; it was more durable and didn't bleed ink than the paper made in the border region.

"Write them separately. The two sections cannot be mixed up."

Staff Officer Luo responded and copied the two battle reports again.

Tiger's Mouth: The vanguard battalion of the Sakata Regiment was annihilated, with over 800 soldiers killed and 47 seriously wounded captured. Over 600 rifles, 12 light machine guns, 3 heavy machine guns, 2 mountain guns (one destroyed, the other with a broken breechblock), and over 30 mules and horses were seized. Our side suffered 11 dead and 23 seriously wounded. Commander: Zhao Weiguo, Battalion Commander of the Assault Battalion.

Xinghualing: Night raid on Sakata's regimental headquarters, killing over 120 and capturing 63 (including regimental commander Sakata and chief of staff). Seized: one regimental flag, two boxes of classified files, telegrams from the North China Area Army, the regimental roster, the January sweep plan, two telephones, and a quantity of light and heavy weapons. Our side suffered 7 dead and 15 seriously wounded. Commander: Assault Battalion Commander Zhao Weiguo.

The old brigade commander read the report twice and then pushed it to the center of the table.

"stamp."

The red seal of the 386th Brigade landed in the lower right corner of the battle report, and the ink slowly seeped out.

The battle report was put into a kraft paper bag with the word "Top Secret" written on the front.

The next day, the battle report was delivered to the 129th Division headquarters. The division commander looked at it for three minutes and then stamped it.

On the third day, it was delivered to the Eighth Route Army headquarters. The Chief of the General Staff and the General-in-Chief looked at it for five minutes and then stamped it.

The regimental flag and classified files were escorted by special personnel and placed in a locked metal box.

The tin box was strapped to the back of a mule, and two cavalrymen escorted it from the Taihang Mountains to Yan'an.

Seven days later, the box was delivered to the cave dwelling at the foot of Pagoda Mountain.

The elder sat on the edge of the earthen bed, with battle reports and a tin box in front of him.

The cave dwelling was small, with a map hanging on the wall, and the location of the Taihang Mountains circled in red.

The earthen lamp base on the table had a blackened wick, and the halo of light was perfectly focused on the paper.

The metal box was placed at my feet, the lock still on.

He first looked at the list of seized items. Rifles, machine guns, mountain guns, mules and horses—he went through the numbers one by one.

His finger paused on "two mountain guns." The Eighth Route Army desperately needed heavy firepower.

Let's look at the casualties. Eighteen were killed in action, and thirty-eight were seriously wounded.

His eyebrows twitched.

The casualties were significant, but the spoils were even greater.

Finally, consider the commander's age.

"Zhao Weiguo, male, fourteen years old."

He paused, then looked up at the CEO opposite him.

How much do you know about this little kid?

The commander held a supplementary report written by the brigade commander. The paper detailed Zhao Weiguo's tactical simulation of Tiger's Mouth and the decision to launch a night attack on Xinghualing.

"It's not just about being bold. He can incorporate the terrain, timing, enemy marching discipline, and firepower points into a single map. The five-unit coordination at Tiger's Mouth, with a five-minute timeline, is perfectly timed. During the night raid on Xinghua Ridge, he calculated that Sakata was unaware of the vanguard's annihilation, and immediately dispatched elite troops to seize the only opening."

The elder took a puff of his cigarette, and the smoke drifted through the cave.

"This kind of child needs to be protected. We can't expose him too early, nor can we let his achievements go unnoticed. The Japanese don't know his name yet, but they'll be watching him sooner or later."

The boss didn't say anything, but twirled the pencil halfway around with his fingertip.

"All five units at Tiger's Mouth are under his command, and he's already showing the makings of a regimental-level commander. After two battles, he's demonstrated both the ability to command and the decisiveness to make decisions."

The elder stubbed out his cigarette on the corner of the table, picked up a pencil, and wrote three lines on the battle report.

"Good. Make an exception and award him the rank of regimental commander."

The words "Yan'an" were engraved on the pencil shaft, worn shiny.

"You decide which regiment you'll be assigned to, what your organizational structure will be, and when the announcement will be made. But the title will be given now."

The boss folded the battle report and put it into another top-secret leather bag.

"How many people like that are there in the whole country?"

The boss thought about it.

"Not many. There are plenty who can fight, but not many who can organize a victory. And even fewer who can organize a victory and dare to seize opportunities."

The elder nodded and walked to the entrance of the cave dwelling to look at the sky.

It was completely dark, and the outline of Pagoda Hill blended into the night sky, making it impossible to distinguish the boundary.

"Protect him. But don't tie him down."

Three days later, the telegram returned to the 386th Brigade.

The old brigade commander was squatting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) eating millet noodles. The noodles were overcooked and only sprinkled with a little salt.

He put down his chopsticks, unfolded the telegram, and glanced at it.

"Exceptionally promoted to the rank of regimental commander."

I looked at it again to make sure I wasn't mistaken, then folded it up and stuffed it into my uniform pocket.

He picked up the bowl and devoured the noodles in three bites, hissing and sucking in cool air even as they were scalding hot.

The bowl spun twice on the table before it stabilized.

He stepped out of the cave dwelling, led the donkey that was grazing by the door, and pulled on the reins twice before it moved.

I rode a donkey to Xingshuping.

The messenger caught up.

"Brigadier, I'll take it."

"No need. I'll deliver this telegram myself."

Apricot Tree Flat Shed.

Zhao Weiguo and Zhao Tieshan were examining lathe parts. The machine tool was a hoist-type machine, disassembled into parts and packed in wooden crates.

Zhao Tieshan squatted on the ground, holding a gear in his hand and turning it in the light.

"The toothed surfaces are a bit worn, but they can be polished back to usable size, though the accuracy will be slightly compromised. The gun barrel itself is fine."

Zhao Weiguo squatted down beside him, measuring the diameter of the gear with calipers. His fingers were covered in grease, and black grime was embedded in his fingernails.

The old brigade commander lifted the curtain and came in.

Zhao Weiguo looked up and saw that the old brigade commander's eyes were shining brightly.

"Stop the lathe operation."

Zhao Weiguo got up and wiped his hands on his trouser leg, making the oil stains even deeper.

He walked up to the old brigade commander and reached out his hand.

The old brigade commander handed over the telegram.

The telegram was yellowish, with badly wrinkled edges, and the pencil writing was very heavy.

"Exceptionally promoted to the rank of regimental commander."

He looked at it again, his gaze lingering on the words "regimental commander" for a long time.

My heart was racing, but it didn't show on my face.

The oil from my fingertips left a mark on the paper.

He folded the telegram and tucked it into the pocket closest to his body.

"The title is secured, but the organizational structure, affiliation, and announcement time still await further arrangements from the organization."

Zhao Weiguo nodded, his hands trembling, finally letting go of something that had been weighing on his mind for a long time.

"Brigade Commander, I have a condition."

The old brigade commander looked at him.

"Go ahead and tell me, you're always trying to give me a hard time."

"Independent operational authority. My team cannot be disbanded or reassigned; I need independent operational authority."

The old brigade commander didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.

"The gifted youth program cannot be disbanded. They are all students I trained; they will be the backbone of the program in the future."

The old brigade commander nodded.

"Technical equipment should be prioritized. Machine tools, steel, and mortar parts are more important than guns and cannons."

The old brigade commander chuckled.

"You're already making demands right after being awarded a rank. You're even more demanding than Li Yunlong."

There was no denial, but there was both a smile and seriousness in her eyes.

"You can set your terms. But you'll have to wait for the right opportunity. Right now, three regiments are vying for you; you're highly sought after."

He turned and walked to the door, placing his hand on the door frame.

He didn't turn around.

"What happened that night."

He paused for a moment.

Thanks.

I lifted the curtain and went outside. A gust of wind blew in, making the oil lamp flicker before it steadied itself.

Zhao Weiguo stood there, his hand on his chest pocket.

The corner of the paper was pressing against his ribs, hard and solid. It was something he had fought his way through, one sword and one spear.

Turning around, I looked at the machine parts piled on the ground, gears, bearings, and cutting tools scattered everywhere.

Zhao Tieshan remained squatting on the ground, clutching the gear in his hand, without saying a word.

Zhao Weiguo walked over, his knee hitting the hard ground, and he gasped in pain, but didn't pay it any mind.

"Continue. The gears are ground; the next step is to install the fixture."

Zhao Tieshan glanced at him and nodded. He didn't ask about the contents of the telegram, but he noticed that Zhao's hand was trembling as he handed it over.

Hand over the gear.

Zhao Weiguo took the caliper and continued measuring. His hand was no longer shaking. The caliper markings were clearly visible under the light. He measured three times and noted down the numbers.

His team can't just fight; they also need to build. The team is a combination of skilled components, his own intellect, and the hands of gifted young talents.