Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

The news that Lao Wu had run away kept Lao Sun awake for three nights.

When He Yuzhu went to the small house at the end of the alley for the fourth time, Old Sun was staring blankly at the map on the wall. The ashtray was piled high with cigarette butts, and the room smelled pungent.

"Sit down." Old Sun didn't turn around.

He Yuzhu sat down.

Old Sun turned around and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. His eyes were dark and swollen, as if he hadn't slept for days.

"Just received news. Liu Fusheng, the liaison officer in Tianjin, was moved yesterday."

He Yuzhu waited for him to continue.

"He bought three tickets to the south. Not one."

He Yuzhu was stunned for a moment.

"Three?"

Old Sun nodded.

"He himself, and two other people. Their identities haven't been confirmed yet, but one of them is most likely Old Wu."

He walked to the map and pointed to the location of Tianjin Port with his finger.

"The ship departs at 7:00 AM the day after tomorrow. It goes from Tianjin Port to Shanghai, and then transfers to Hong Kong."

He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the map. Several circles were drawn on the map in red pencil, marking Tianjin, Tanggu, and cities further south. Old Sun pointed to the spot in Tanggu, his knuckles turning white.

"Should we arrest him or not?"

Old Sun looked at him.

"Arrest them. But not in Tianjin."

He Yuzhu waited for him to continue.

Old Sun moved his finger across the map, drawing a line slightly south of Tianjin Port.

"Tanggu. The boats will stop in Tanggu for an hour to load goods. There are fewer people there, making it easier to get things done."

He turned around and looked at He Yuzhu.

Are you going or not?

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He looked down at his left leg. These past few days of running around had aggravated the old injury, causing it to ache again, like a needle was pricking inside, and it hurt with each scramble when he walked.

"OK."

Old Sun nodded.

"Leaving tomorrow night. Taking the night train."

He Yushui waited in the courtyard until very late that day.

It was completely dark when the moon rose and then hid behind the clouds. She sat on the doorstep, clutching the newspaper in her hand—the one with her brother's picture, its edges worn and frayed. She unfolded the newspaper and folded it again, then unfolded it again.

The deaf old woman came out of the house, wearing a coat, and walked to her side.

"Go in."

He Yushui shook her head.

He said he'd be back today.

The old woman didn't speak, but sat down next to her. The two of them squeezed onto the narrow threshold, their shadows stretched into thin strips by the moonlight.

A dog barked in the distance, then it was gone.

The wharf in Tanggu was bigger than He Yuzhu had imagined.

Rows of warehouses were piled high with wooden crates and sacks. The sea breeze carried the salty, fishy smell and coal dust. It was still dark, and the fog was so thick that you couldn't see a person more than ten meters away. The lights on the dock shimmered as yellowish halos in the fog.

He Yuzhu squatted behind a warehouse, his left leg pressed against the cold cement floor, the chill seeping into his bones. Beside him were two of Lao Sun's men, one surnamed Zhou and the other Wang, both in plainclothes, guns tucked into their belts. Zhou was chewing something, his cheeks puffing out. Wang remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the fog.

Old Sun was in another location, dozens of meters away, and couldn't be seen.

As dawn broke, the fog didn't dissipate; instead, it thickened, turning the distant sea and sky into a grayish-white expanse.

6:15.

Footsteps echoed first from the fog, pattering on the stone slabs. Then came the figure.

Three. Two were wearing gray cotton-padded jackets, and one was wearing a black jacket. He Yuzhu recognized the one in front at a glance—Old Wu. He was thinner than when he was at the factory, his cheekbones were prominent, and he walked very fast with his head down, as if a ghost was chasing him.

The two behind him, one in his forties with a round face and wearing glasses, is Liu Fusheng from the photo. The other is in his early thirties, with an unfamiliar face and a mole on his left cheek; I don't know who he is.

They walked toward the dock, where a small motorboat was moored, and cargo was being loaded onto it. The porters carried sacks, their movements creaking as they walked across the gangplank.

He Yuzhu stood up.

As soon as he exerted force with his left leg, the old injury suddenly throbbed with pain—not just ordinary pain, but like someone was stabbing a red-hot iron skewer into the bone. He gritted his teeth, didn't utter a sound, and took two steps forward.

Old Wu and the others are almost at the boat.

"Let's do it!"

Old Sun's voice came from the fog, muffled and distant, as if through several layers of cotton blankets.

Zhou and Wang rushed out. He Yuzhu also ran forward. Every step he took with his left leg felt like a knife cutting into him, but he didn't stop. The stone slabs under his feet were uneven, and a raised section almost tripped him.

Old Wu heard the noise and turned around to look.

Just one glance. He Yuzhu saw his expression clearly—not panic, but resignation. It was as if he had been waiting for this day for a long time.

Then Lao Wu took off running towards the boat.

Liu Fusheng and the other man scattered to either side like startled birds. The man in his early thirties pulled something out of his pocket—

Wang lunged forward, and the two wrestled together. The object fell to the ground; it was a pistol, which bounced twice on the stone slab.

He Yuzhu ignored what was happening there and chased after Lao Wu.

His left leg was so painful that his vision blurred, but he gritted his teeth and took one step, two steps, three steps—

Old Wu had already run to the side of the boat, one foot stepping onto the gangplank. The gangplank wobbled and creaked.

He Yuzhu lunged forward.

He didn't grab Old Wu, but grabbed the gangplank first. The gangplank suddenly wobbled, and Old Wu lost his balance, leaning back as the two of them crashed heavily onto the stone slabs of the dock.

He Yuzhu's knee hit the ground, causing him to gasp in pain, his mouth filled with the taste of blood. Old Wu rolled over and punched him in the face. The fist was hard and cold, striking his cheekbone, making He Yuzhu see stars.

He didn't dodge. He grabbed Old Wu's wrist and twisted it hard.

Old Wu screamed as his arm was twisted behind his back.

"Don't move!"

Old Wu lay on the ground, panting heavily, his face pressed against the cold stone slab. He Yuzhu was on top of him, his knee pressing against his lower back. His left leg was trembling violently, and the pain caused sweat to drip from his forehead onto the back of Old Wu's head.

Old Wu suddenly laughed. He chuckled softly, his face pressed against the ground.

"Pillar," he said, "it's you."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Zhou ran over and handcuffed Old Wu's arms. With a snap, Old Wu's smile froze on his face.

He Yuzhu released his grip, fell to the side, and lay down on the stone slab. The sky was overcast, the fog had not yet lifted, and several seabirds flew past, calling out in the fog.

He heard Old Sun shouting, "There's one more! Don't let him get away!"

Then came a muffled thud, the sound of someone falling into the water. A splash followed, and water rose and then fell back down.

He closed his eyes.

The area on his left leg felt like someone was gouging it out with a knife. But he wasn't thinking about his leg.

That's what Lao Wu just said.

It's you.

The interrogation took place that evening.

He Yuzhu sat in the next room, watching through the glass. The interrogation room contained only a table, two chairs, and a lamp hanging on the wall, its light starkly white.

Old Wu was handcuffed to a chair, head down, not saying a word. His hair was disheveled, and there was a bruise on his face from falling on the stone slab.

Old Sun sat opposite him, lit a cigarette, and didn't say a word. The smoke slowly drifted upwards in the lamplight.

After a long time, Old Wu raised his head.

"How did you know?"

Old Sun took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled.

"Liu Fusheng is next door and has already spoken."

Old Wu was stunned for a moment. He looked at Old Sun, trying to discern the truth from his face.

"His wife and children are still in Tianjin," Old Sun added. "He doesn't want anything to happen to them."

Old Wu lowered his head and looked at the handcuffs on his hands. After a long while, he finally spoke.

"Are the Restoration Society members your people?"

Old Sun didn't say anything, and took another puff of his cigarette.

Old Wu remained silent. The light shone on his face, casting his shadow on the wall behind him, a large, indistinct shape.

"My collaboration with them started two years ago." His voice was low, as if he were talking to himself. "They have money, we lack money. Zheng Yunting approached me and said we could help each other out."

Old Sun stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"What can I help with?"

Old Wu raised his head.

National Day.

The room was quiet. So quiet that you could hear the buzzing of the light bulb.

Old Sun's hand stopped beside the ashtray.

Explain yourself.

Old Wu licked his lips. His lips were dry and cracked, leaving a white mark after he licked them.

"They wanted to...make a scene on National Day. I don't know exactly what kind of scene. I was just responsible for relaying their requests to Liu Fusheng and then bringing back Liu Fusheng's instructions."

Old Sun looked at him.

"Who else?"

Old Wu was stunned for a moment.

"What?"

"Who else is on your line?"

Old Wu remained silent for even longer. So long that Old Sun lit another cigarette, so long that He Yuzhu next door held his breath.

Then Lao Wu raised his head and looked at Lao Sun.

"There's one more."

Old Sun waited for him to continue.

Old Wu lowered his head again.

"I don't know exactly who it is. I only know that his code name is 'Nail.' Liu Fusheng is in direct contact with him."

Through the glass, He Yuzhu saw Old Sun's hand clench tightly on the table. His knuckles were white, just like when he had touched the map that morning.

I got home on the fourth night.

He Yushui was still sitting on the doorstep. Hearing footsteps, she stood up and looked towards the alley entrance. When she saw it was him, she ran over and threw herself into his arms.

He Yuzhu was knocked back half a step by her, and he gasped in pain in his left leg.

He Yushui didn't notice. She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking.

"elder brother……"

He Yuzhu placed his hand on the back of her head and gently patted it.

"I'm back."

He Yushui cried for a while, then looked up at him.

"Brother, what happened to your face?"

He Yuzhu touched his face. His lip was cut, from Old Wu's punch. It was swollen and felt a little hot to the touch.

"fine."

He Yushui didn't believe him, but she didn't ask any more questions. She took his hand and walked into the yard.

When he reached the hanging flower gate, He Yuzhu looked back.

The alleyway was deserted, and the streetlights cast long shadows.

That "nail" is still there.

The voice in my head rang.

[Side Mission 3: Dual-Line Infiltration Completed]

[Mission Reward Points: +2,500,000]

Current total points: 48,090,000

He didn't look at the number.

His left leg hurt so much he could barely stand. But he couldn't tell if it was his leg that hurt, or if the news of the "nail" was drilling into his bones.

He remembered that thing in the system—[Rapid Healing Potion].

His fingers twitched.

Then he let go, held onto the hanging flower gate, and slowly walked inside.

He Yushui ran ahead, shouting as she went, "Grandma! Brother's back!"

The lights came on in the courtyard.