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

In November 1950, the wind at Changjin Lake was like a bone-scraping knife.

It wasn't a metaphor—it really could slice flesh. The wind howled sharply, whipping frozen snowflakes against faces, stinging painfully. In the minus forty degrees Celsius, the thin cotton coat felt like a sheet of paper. He Yuzhu huddled in the ambush position at Dead Eagle Ridge; with each breath, the white mist condensed into icicles on his eyebrows and eyelashes before it even dissipated, forcing him to squint to see.

His ears were already numb from the cold, and his toes first felt a sharp, stabbing pain, then a dull, numb ache. He rubbed his hands together; the cracks on the back of his hands were a patchwork of black and red. In the foxhole next to him, Shuanzi was clutching his rifle, trembling uncontrollably, his teeth chattering.

"Squad leader... this weather... is much worse than the coldest days in my hometown..." Shuanzi couldn't even speak coherently.

He Yuzhu didn't speak, but handed over the water bottle he had been holding for a while. The water in the bottle had long since frozen solid, but a trace of warmth remained on the bottle itself. Shuanzi took it, shivering as he pressed it against his cheek.

This isn't just cold, it's deadly.

Company Commander Zhao crouched down and came up from behind, his face blue from the cold and his lips purple. "Get your hands and feet moving! Don't sleep!" he roared, his voice booming.

Falling asleep in this weather might mean never waking up again. He Yuzhu had already seen several soldiers with their hands and feet blackened by the cold, being carried into sheltered rock crevices—their survival was entirely up to fate.

In his mind, the system screen coldly appeared. He had over two hundred thousand points. What could he exchange them for? Heavy weapons were too far-fetched to be of immediate use. He quickly scrolled through the list, his gaze landing on an inconspicuous item under "Auxiliary Category - Survival Supplies":

[Ancient Cold-Resistant and Blood-Activating Formula (Knowledge Transfer)]: Based on a simple formula using readily available medicinal herbs, this formula can effectively promote blood circulation and resist the cold. Requires certain external conditions. Redemption requires 800 points.

[High-Calorie Emergency Food Box (Chocolate-based)]: Provides a quick energy boost. Requires 1500 points to redeem.

Try anything, even if it seems hopeless.

"Company Commander," He Yuzhu moved closer to Company Commander Zhao, lowering his voice as puffs of white breath drifted out, "I have a folk remedy from my hometown that might work. You'll need pine needles, dried chili stems, and preferably some old ginger."

Company Commander Zhao stared at him with bloodshot eyes: "Where are you going to find one in this freezing weather?"

"Let Shuanzi lead some men into the woods to gather pine needles, and collect dried chili peppers from the food bags. Boil some water for everyone to wash their hands and feet and have a drink; it's better than boiling water dry."

Hearing this from the side, Li, with his dark face, said in a muffled voice, "I think it's a good idea! It's better than waiting to die! I'll take some men and get some pine needles!"

Company Commander Zhao paused for two seconds, then nodded emphatically: "Hurry up!"

He Yuzhu leaned closer and lowered his voice even further: "Also... I heard that the American troops retreated in a hurry, and they might have left some food on the vehicles. I'll take two people down to the damaged jeeps to take a look. Maybe we can find some canned food so everyone can have something to eat and have some energy."

This statement doesn't stand up to close scrutiny, but at this moment, no one would reject even the slightest hope. Company Commander Zhao waved wearily, "Be careful, go and come back quickly!"

He Yuzhu, along with Lao Geng and Xiao Shandong, trudged through knee-deep snow to the roadside at the foot of the ridge. Two destroyed American jeeps lay crookedly in the snow, covered with a thick layer of white.

He told the two men to keep watch at a distance while he reached for the trunk of a jeep. The trunk lid was warped from the explosion, and he managed to pry it open a crack. He reached inside—it was empty. But the moment his palm touched the bottom of the trunk, a thought struck him.

[Spend 1500 points to redeem a high-calorie emergency food kit.]

The item has been placed at the specified coordinates (simulating a "discovered" state).

He "laboriously" pried open the box lid, and using the snow's light to look inside, he exclaimed in "surprise," "There's something there!"

Old Geng and Xiao Shandong approached and saw a dark green metal box lying in the corner of the trunk, with foreign writing printed on it that they couldn't understand. After prying it open, they found long strips neatly wrapped in tin foil inside.

"What is this thing?" Little Shandong picked up one; it was ice cold and hard.

"It's like chocolate; those foreigners get full faster eating this." He Yuzhu tore off a strip and took a small bite. The bittersweet taste melted in his mouth, followed by a warm sensation in his stomach. "It's edible! Quick, take it back!"

The box of chocolates, along with the pine needles collected by Blackface Li and his men, the dried chilies and old ginger that the cook found—and finally a few precious pieces of ginger cut off with a dagger—were mixed with snow water and simmered in the broken lunchbox.

A pungent, spicy, and slightly bitter pine oil aroma permeated the Dead Eagle Ridge position. Each person was given a small bowl of piping hot black soup and a small bar of chocolate about the length of a finger.

"Drink it! Wipe your hands and feet! Quickly!" He Yuzhu, Black-faced Li, and Company Commander Zhao urged hoarsely.

The scalding soup stung my throat, yet it felt like a red-hot wire scalding a narrow passage through my frozen body. Rubbing the warm soup onto frostbite stung, then brought a tingling, almost numbing sensation of life returning. The chocolate was hard and difficult to bite, but the sweetness and warmth that slowly melted in my mouth subtly yet undeniably sustained the dying embers of my life.

No one questioned whether the recipe actually worked, and no one cared that the chocolate arrived at such a coincidence. On the brink of survival, this warmth and sweetness were a lifeline.

[Successfully reduced the risk of non-combat casualties and initially stabilized morale. The application of ancient cold-resistant formulas proved effective.]

Battlefield Points -2300

Current points: 204398

In the afternoon, the most difficult moment arrived.

At the southern end of the highway, the vanguard of the fleeing American forces appeared. The roar of tanks and the clamor of vehicles tore through the deathly silence of the snowfield. Hungry, cold, but with an even stronger will to survive, the enemy launched a desperate breakout towards Dead Eagle Ridge, which blocked their retreat.

Artillery fire! Machine gun barrage! The American troops fought like cornered beasts.

"Fire!" Company Commander Zhao's roar was almost drowned out by the explosion.

He Yuzhu lay prone at the firing position, his finger reaching for the trigger of the Garand rifle. The moment his fingertip touched the metal, a piercing cold and stiffness washed over him—his fingers were so frozen they were almost numb, difficult to bend, let alone complete the delicate action of pulling the trigger.

He strained, strained harder, his knuckles cracking, but the trigger wouldn't budge. The bolt was frozen solid!

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, tossed aside the gun, and pulled a grenade from his pocket. His hands were also numb with cold, making it extremely difficult to unscrew the moisture-proof cap. He tried twice, but the metal cap seemed welded shut.

The American infantry, under the cover of tanks, drew closer. In a nearby foxhole, a young soldier tried to throw a grenade, but was struck in the chest by a burst of machine gun fire and fell to the ground without a sound. His blood splattered on the snow, instantly freezing into dark red ice crystals.

He Yuzhu's eyes reddened. He suddenly lowered his head, bit the grenade pull ring with his teeth, and yanked his head back violently!

The pull ring, along with ice shards, detached, hissing white smoke rising from it. He estimated the time, then threw the smoking metal lump with all his might towards the side of the tank!

Boom! The explosion knocked over two or three American infantrymen, but had little effect on the Iron Turtle.

The tanks continued to advance, machine gun bullets raining down like a deluge, pinning down the position. Another comrade was struck in the shoulder by a stray bullet, screaming as he rolled to the ground.

We can't let it come any closer!

The thought snapped in He Yuzhu's mind. He grabbed two grenades, bit off the pins with his teeth, gripped them tightly, and, seizing the brief blind spot when the tank turned, rolled out of the foxhole!

The cold seeped into his neck, and his body slammed against the frozen ground. Ignoring everything, he rolled towards the side and rear tracks of the steel behemoth like a hungry wolf pouncing on its prey in the snow!

"Squad leader!" Shuanzi's terrified shout came from behind.

The tank machine gunner spotted him, turned his gun around, and bullets followed his rolling trajectory, sending snowflakes flying!

Closer! Closer still! The roar of the engine and the heat wave almost hit his face. At the last moment, He Yuzhu pushed off the ground, squeezing his body into the narrow gap between the tracks and the snow, while simultaneously shoving two hissing grenades into the gap between the drive sprocket and the road wheel!

He desperately rolled to the side!

Boom! Boom!

Two muffled thuds were followed by a piercing scream of metal twisting and tearing! The Sherman tank's right track was blown off, and it went limp like a dead snake. The massive vehicle lurched to a sudden stop, and its machine guns went silent.

There was a moment of silence on the battlefield, followed by a burst of hoarse cheers!

"The tank's destroyed! Keep firing!"

He Yuzhu lay paralyzed in the snow, his ears ringing, the blast wave making his internal organs feel like they were about to shift. He struggled to his head and saw Company Commander Zhao, his eyes bloodshot, standing up and waving his pistol: "Comrades! He Weiguo took down the tank! We can't back down! For our fallen comrades, for our motherland! We'll hold Eagle Ridge to the death!"

"Hold fast at Eagle Ridge!"

It was as if molten iron was being injected into their frozen bodies. The soldiers smashed their weapons with rifle butts and bit them with their teeth, trying every possible way to get them firing again, and unleashing a denser barrage of bullets and grenades at the panicked American troops who had lost tank cover.

He Yuzhu was dragged back to the foxhole by Lao Geng and Shuanzi. He leaned against the frozen ground, panting heavily, puffs of white smoke billowing out. Looking at his comrades around him, their faces contorted with frostbite but still fighting to the death, looking at the tanks smoking in the distance, looking at the dark red ice stains frozen on the snow—something indescribable swelled in his chest, hot and heavy.

That's not just an ability granted by the system, but something forged in dire circumstances through blood, life, and shared will.

[By inspiring the entire company's will to fight to the death in a desperate situation, they effectively hindered the enemy's breakout.]

[Leadership attribute awakens and improves.]

Battlefield Points +20000

Current points: 224398

Main quest progress: 0.224%

As night fell again, the gunfire subsided. The American breakout attempt had been repelled, leaving behind dozens of corpses and the disabled tank.

A small fire was lit on the position—using scraps of firewood and oil discarded by the enemy. The soldiers huddled together, sharing the few remaining chocolates and warm pine needle chili water. The casualty count came in: seven dead, eleven seriously wounded, and almost everyone suffered from frostbite.

The cost was heavy, but the position remained.

He Yuzhu held the tattered lunchbox and sipped the spicy soup. Dark-faced Li sat down next to him and silently handed him half a compressed biscuit.

"Kid," Blackface Li's voice was terribly hoarse, "you've got guts today."

He Yuzhu didn't speak, only staring at the leaping flames. The flames reflected on his face, flickering on and off.

The road ahead is long, and the weather is still cold. But some things—like willpower, like the people behind us who we can rely on—have been quietly forged in this steely cold.