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

Xing Shu Ping, late at night.

Zhao Weiguo was the only one left in the side shed.

The oil lamp sat on the corner of the table. The flame was almost extinguished, and the wick had burned into a black stick. The oil bowl was empty, with only a thin film of oil clinging to its sides.

There's no moon outside. The clouds completely cover the sky, and you can't see a single star.

The wind blew in through the cracks in the door, chilling to the bone. The door creaked and groaned in the wind.

Zhao Weiguo sat on the ammunition box, holding a thick iron bar in his hand.

The iron bar was scrap material salvaged from the repair team. Its surface was rusted and its edges were burrs.

He placed the iron bar horizontally between his index and middle fingers, resting it on the first joint.

I didn't use any force, I just held it there.

The warm current in my chest returned.

The last time was after the Battle of Xinghualing.

The system's physical enhancement is activated, and heat flows from the chest to the spine, shoulder blades, and limbs, making the person feel hot.

On that battlefield, bullets flew and shells roared; there was no time to savor the moment.

This time is different.

The quiet shed at night was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.

The heat started in my chest and spread out little by little.

First, it's the spine. It feels like a red-hot iron rod is being inserted down my back, each segment burning hot, until it reaches the coccyx.

Then came the shoulder blades. It felt like a crack had been pried open between the two bones, allowing hot fluid to seep in, and the bones made two cracking sounds.

The sound was particularly clear in the quiet shed.

Then come the limbs.

A wave of soreness washed over my arm muscles, spreading from my shoulder to my fingertips. My fingertips throbbed with a tingling, throbbing sensation.

The calluses on my palms had thickened again. I could feel the shape of each rust grain by pressing my fingertips against the iron bar.

The iron bar was very cold. He slowly warmed it up in his hands.

He began to exert his strength.

He pinched the iron bar between two fingers and pulled it inward. His knuckles turned white, and the iron bar began to bend, first forming a small arc.

The curvature increases. The cross-section changes from a circle to a flattened shape, eventually bending into a semicircle.

The iron bar makes a creaking sound when it is bent.

He let go.

The iron bar fell to the ground, bounced twice, rolled to the corner of the wall, hit a brick, and made a clanging sound.

It's bent. Slowly bent, held between two fingers.

Last time at Xinghualing, he bent the iron bar with his entire palm, using all five fingers together. This time, he only used two.

He pulled his hand back.

When I closed my fingers, my knuckles made two cracking sounds. It didn't hurt at all.

The calluses on my palms were hard and stiff, like steel growing on bones.

I can't pinpoint exactly when it started. Willow Bay, Tiger's Mouth, or tonight.

My body is definitely different now. My strength, reaction time, and endurance are all improving.

It can't be quantified, but it can be felt in a very real way.

The system panel in my mind lit up.

The blue light floated in the darkness, jumped, and suddenly popped out.

"New mission: Take over the Independent Regiment of the 386th Brigade."

"Mission Level: Top Grade."

He was stunned.

The highest grade is something the system has never given us.

Previously, the highest level was Class A. The Tiger's Mouth ambush was Class A, and the Xinghualing night raid was also Class A. If you move up one level, the weight changes.

"Rewards: Further improvement in physical fitness, upgraded tactical simulation (advanced), and unlocking of a new module in the shop."

Advanced simulation. He's currently at the intermediate level, covering the battalion level, and can simulate the battlefield situation of a battalion. Advanced simulations can simulate battlefields involving tens of thousands of troops, multiple fronts, and multiple branches of service.

The reward is substantial. So substantial that it makes your heart race.

But his eyes moved down and fixed on the last two lines.

Trigger condition: Within five days.

Note: Originally Kong Jie's unit.

Originally Kong Jie's unit.

Four words. He read them over and over again.

The word "original" is striking. "Original" implies that Kong Jie's Independent Regiment still exists, but the mission statement is "takeover."

Taking over means the original commander is no longer there.

Why aren't you here?

My heart started racing. The warmth in my chest hadn't dissipated before a chill crept up from my feet.

He matched the "triggered within five days" with the time Kong Jie came to Xingshuping.

The day before yesterday evening, Kong Jie said, "The Independent Regiment is short of someone who can fight tough battles." He added, "Go visit Liushugou when you have time." His left arm was bandaged with a faint red stain, and something was pressing against his eyes.

They've come to ask for help.

The old brigade commander's words, "The pressure on Kong Jie's side on that northern line has always been immense," weighed heavily on my mind.

The system says "Triggered within five days".

One end pointed to the direction the brigade commander had indicated, and the other to the time given by the system. The two collided.

Five days later, Kong Jie's Independent Regiment may still be there, or it may not.

He stood up.

I pushed open the door to the side shed. The hinges were rusty, and it creaked open. A cold draft rushed in, the oil lamp flickered, and then went out.

It was pitch black inside the shed.

Only that blue light remained floating in the darkness.

I stepped out of the shed and stood in the courtyard.

The ground was frozen solid, making a crackling sound when you stepped on it. The moon was obscured by clouds, leaving only a blurry outline. The earthen walls, woodpile, and water vat were all just dark silhouettes.

The side door of the repair team's shed was closed.

Zhao Tieshan should be asleep now. His leg hasn't fully recovered yet; he's been measuring gears until midnight every day, so tired that he falls asleep as soon as he collapses.

The distant mountain peaks stretched out in a dark, continuous expanse. The night in Xing Shu Ping was quiet, with only the sound of the wind and the occasional barking of dogs in the distance.

The shadow of Yamamoto that I had seen in Liulin Town loomed back again.

The man in the gray robe had eyes like blades; he seemed to be "watching without moving, waiting for the target to reveal its patterns." Zhao Weiguo glanced at him through the crack in the window, but that one glance was enough.

The man's gait, the calluses on his hands, the carefully tuned accent—every detail spoke volumes: the alpha wolf.

Wolves don't wait forever. They'll choose the weakest prey to attack.

Kong Jie's Independent Regiment is now the weakest link in the 386th Brigade.

The fight at Tiger's Mouth was a brutal bayonet charge, resulting in heavy casualties, low morale, and insufficient security. If Yamamoto were to make a move, he would definitely choose him.

He stood in the yard for a long time.

The wind blew right through my cotton-padded coat, making me shiver, but I didn't move. My hands were in my pockets, clutching the map of Willow Ditch I had drawn last night; the edges of the paper were soaked with sweat.

Then he turned around and walked to the camp headquarters, knocking three times on the door.

The sound traveled far in the night.

"Staff Officer Luo."

The door opened a crack. Staff Officer Luo's face appeared, his eyes still sleepy, his hair a mess like a bird's nest, and there was a pillow mark on his left cheek.

Upon seeing Zhao Weiguo's face, he immediately woke up.

He'd seen that expression before. He'd seen it the night before the ambush at Willow Bay, and before setting off from Tiger's Mouth.

It's time to prepare for war.

"What's wrong?"

"Set off before dawn for Willow Valley."

Staff Officer Luo paused for a moment, then pushed open the door and stepped out. A gust of cold wind blew, causing him to shiver and pull his cotton-padded coat tighter around himself.

"Looking for Commander Kong?"

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

He pulled out a piece of paper he had just written on in the shed. The handwriting was messy, and some words were overlapping, but it was still legible.

"Give this letter to Kong Jie. Tell him to re-examine all recent outsiders—doctors, merchants, blacksmiths, and new helpers."

He paused for a moment.

"Don't just look at the craftsmanship. Look at the hands, the accent, the way they walk. Especially those who arrived in the last few days, don't miss a single one."

Staff Officer Luo took the letter and glanced at it in the light filtering through the window of the battalion headquarters.

The letter was very detailed.

The calluses on the base of the index finger and the area between the thumb and index finger were caused by holding a short knife or pistol.

When checking accents, locals in the Taihang Mountains tend to draw out the last syllable of their speech, while outsiders often stop too quickly.

A person who has received military training will have a uniform stride, while an ordinary person will walk at varying speeds.

"Why investigate these things?"

Zhao Weiguo didn't say anything, and took another piece of paper.

The paper contains a map of the area surrounding Liushugou.

Three routes, two ambush points, and the loopholes on the back slope of the Independent Regiment were marked.

The drawing was very detailed, with the width and slope marked for each road, and the firing range and cover marked for each ambush point.

"Also, tell Kong Jie that Xing Shuping has prepared twenty captured light machine guns and a batch of sulfanilamide powder for him. He should come and collect them himself."

Staff Officer Luo was even more confused, so he folded the letter and map and put them in his pocket.

The letter was cool to the touch of his fingertips. The words were warm. Zhao Weiguo's hand was trembling as he wrote; he was in a hurry.

"Lure him here with equipment?" he asked. "His base is half a day's journey from here, and his leg injury hasn't fully healed yet."

Zhao Weiguo looked at him.

Light leaked through the window, illuminating his face. His eyes were bright, unnaturally bright, like the final flicker of a burning wick.

"Some dangers cannot be written down. They must be discussed in person."

Staff Officer Luo stared at his face and swallowed back the words that were about to come out.

Having followed Zhao Weiguo for so long, it's clear he's really anxious. This time, he's even more serious than before the battles at Tiger's Mouth and Xinghualing.

I'll leave before dawn.

Zhao Weiguo nodded, turned and walked out of the camp, returning to the courtyard.

The system panel was still lit, with blue light floating in the darkness.

"The mission trigger conditions have been met 60% of the way. Please remain vigilant."

Sixty percent. That's another ten percent more than before.

The conditions are being met, and time is ticking away. This can't wait.

He said something in a low voice.

"I don't want to take over the Independent Regiment in this way."

There was no answer. The blue light flickered and then went dark.

The shed was plunged into darkness again. Only the sound of the wind seeping in through the cracks in the door could be heard.

He stood in the darkness, listening to the wind and his own heartbeat.

The day he came to Xingshuping, he was sitting on a wooden box, and there were faint red stains on the gauze on his left arm.

"The Independent Regiment is lacking someone who can fight tough battles," he said, his eyes heavy with emotion.

The parting words, "Come visit Willow Valley sometime," sounded like an invitation, but were actually a plea for help.

It was still dark. The eastern sky was still a black line, without a trace of gray.

Staff Officer Luo led the gray horse out of Xing Shu Ping. The horse's hooves clattered on the frozen dirt road, the sound carrying far into the night.

The gray horse walked very slowly, its horseshoes slipping on the stones. Staff Officer Luo had to tug on the reins twice to steady it.

Zhao Weiguo stood at the village entrance, watching his figure disappear down the mountain path.

The mountain path winds and twists. On both sides are dry shrubs, their branches rustling in the wind.

The wind blew from the north. It was cold, and the smell of pine resin clung to my face.

To the north is the direction of Willow Tree Gully.

Five days.

He clenched his fist, turned around, and walked back.