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

The fire in Crow Valley had been burning for two days and two nights and was still not completely extinguished. A hundred miles away, the sentries looked up at the horizon and saw a dark red patch stubbornly branded onto the sky, like a hideous scar. When the wind rose, the stench of burning and gunpowder permeated the air, mixed with the strange smell of something completely incinerated.

The commotion was too great to hide. The commendation order from the division headquarters and the inquiry telegram from the corps—and even higher levels—arrived almost simultaneously with the reconnaissance battalion's withdrawal. He Yuzhu and his men had barely caught their breath at the designated supply point, their shoes still on, when new trouble was already upon them.

This time, the opponent is completely different.

It was no longer aimless aerial reconnaissance or indiscriminate artillery barrage. The enemy was like hyenas that had smelled blood, swift and fierce.

The first to be injured was the rearguard, the Third Company. While resting on the dry riverbed, two soldiers who had gone to fetch water failed to return. Zhang Dashan led a search party and found an overturned water bottle, messy footprints from US Marine Corps boots, and a few drops of fresh blood seeping into the sand and gravel. The enemy had acted swiftly, leaving no survivors and no extra traces.

Immediately afterwards, the temporary observation post of the battalion headquarters, located halfway up the mountain, was attacked by snipers in the darkest hour before dawn. The sentry was shot through the steel helmet and fell silently. The gunshot was muffled—it was from a weapon equipped with a silencer.

The skies were not peaceful either. Slender reconnaissance planes replaced the bomber formations, emerging from the clouds like flies, circling low. Whenever they appeared, small groups of enemy aircraft would unexpectedly sneak in to probe and harass them.

Old Geng snapped a blade of grass in two and spat, "We've been targeted. This time it's a vicious dog that bites at the throat."

Wu Dayong picked up a non-standard bullet casing, his face grim: "Well-equipped and well-trained—an elite squad."

He Yuzhu crouched behind the rock and unfolded the map. They had already covered most of the retreat route, and forty miles ahead they would enter the edge of their controlled area. However, this last stretch of road was characterized by high mountains, dense forests, and crisscrossing ravines, making it both an ideal ambush site and a perilous situation.

The enemy is ever-present, avoiding direct confrontation and targeting weaknesses. Their objective is clear: to wear down the enemy, conduct reconnaissance, and then annihilate them at the opportune moment. This feeling of being watched and constantly threatened is more agonizing and deadly than direct combat.

"We can't let them keep following us." He Yuzhu traced a narrow valley on the map called "Ghost's Sorrow"—steep cliffs on both sides, with only a narrow path of loose stones in the middle. "Let's set up a feast here and invite them in."

He quickly deployed his forces: "The first and second companies shall proceed along the original route, slowing down and feigning fatigue and relaxation. Place the supplies and wounded soldiers in conspicuous places, and even raise tattered flags."

Lao Geng and Wu Dayong exchanged glances: "A bait?"

"Yes, bait." He Yuzhu nodded. "The Third Company, the Firepower Company, and the battalion headquarters' directly subordinate units will follow me up the ridges on both sides. Get in position ahead of time and turn 'Ghost's Bane' into an iron coffin. Use all the landmines, tripwire mines, and directional mines. The machine gun positions are concealed, but their firing arcs must be intersecting to seal off the valley entrance and valley floor."

He looked at Zhang Dashan: "The soldiers with the most accurate marksmanship should be dispersed to higher ground and keep a close watch on every crevice in the rocks. They have snipers, and so do we."

"Battalion Commander, what if they don't come, or if too many of them come..." Zhang Dashan still had concerns.

"They'll come." He Yuzhu rolled up the map, his eyes cold. "These people are arrogant, convinced they've got us cornered. Seeing our 'main force' exhausted and showing its weakness, they'll definitely try to swallow us whole. There won't be many of them—too many of these elite troops would be difficult to utilize. One battalion of ours can take down one of their squads, just right."

The troops acted immediately. The decoy team moved slowly toward "Ghost's Sorrow," deliberately making noise and even arranging for several soldiers to pretend to argue, creating the illusion of low morale. He Yuzhu led the main force to make a rapid advance under the cover of the mountains and forests, and entered the ambush area ahead of time to set up defenses.

The wait was long. The mountain wind howled through the valley. He Yuzhu lay prone behind a rock, covered in withered grass, peering intently down the winding path through the cracks in the stones. His heartbeat was steady, and he could hear the suppressed breathing of the soldier beside him.

In the afternoon, as the sun began to set, figures finally appeared at the valley entrance—a small team of about thirty men, dressed in jungle-patterned combat uniforms, their faces painted with camouflage. Their weapons included M1 carbines with scopes, as well as several unusual submachine guns and sniper rifles. They advanced in alternating cover, their movements practiced and alert, like a pack of wolves watching a slowly moving "bait" ahead.

Leading the group was a tall lieutenant who peered through binoculars, seemingly hesitant, noticing that the column ahead was in unusually "good" condition. Just then, the "bait" column suddenly descended into chaos at a bend: the packhorses neighed in alarm, the column came to a halt, and their condition became even more dire.

The lieutenant finally waved. More than thirty men split into three groups and quickly infiltrated the canyon, intending to bite the "prey" from the flank.

The moment the last enemy soldier completely entered the valley, He Yuzhu whispered two words into the miniature radio: "Close the gate."

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The explosives and anti-personnel mines pre-buried at the valley entrance and on both sides were simultaneously detonated remotely! Debris and dust shot into the sky, instantly cutting off the retreat route!

Almost simultaneously, more than a dozen light and heavy machine guns and dozens of rifles on both sides of the mountain ridges fired simultaneously! The rain of bullets poured down like a metal storm, engulfing the small team at the bottom of the valley who was momentarily at a loss! Several veterans quickly sought cover, but the bare valley floor and scattered boulders could not withstand the almost all-around crossfire.

"Sniper! Take out the commander and the machine gunner!" He Yuzhu ordered.

A sniper shot rang out from above. The lieutenant had just raised his binoculars when a bullet pierced his forehead. Several enemy soldiers attempting to operate Browning automatic rifles were subsequently shot down.

This squad was indeed elite, and it did not collapse despite such a devastating blow. The survivors, under the command of their sergeant, attempted a desperate charge up a hillside, only to be met with a barrage of tripwires and a hail of grenades.

The battle ended after fifteen minutes. No one remained standing at the bottom of the valley; only corpses and smoke remained.

He Yuzhu led his men to clear the battlefield. He ordered no survivors to be taken, and the seriously wounded to be finished off—not out of ruthlessness, but out of necessity. These elite soldiers knew too much; taking them back would be a disaster, but letting them go was even more unacceptable.

He crouched down beside the lieutenant's body and found a waterproof map bag, a coded notebook, and a small, oddly shaped radio. From the bodies of several other men who appeared to be sergeants or technicians, he also found similar advanced communication equipment and identification tags, which were not engraved with ordinary unit numbers, but with an abbreviation: "RTTF"—Anti-Guerrilla Task Force.

"It's here specifically for us," Old Geng said with a cold snort, weighing the small radio in his hand.

"Pack up the supplies." He Yuzhu stood up and looked around the valley floor. "Take the weapons and ammunition you can. Clean up the bodies and traces. Retreat quickly before the next wave arrives."

The group quickly left "Ghost's Bane". This time, the feeling of being watched from behind finally disappeared.

After retreating to the safe zone, He Yuzhu's team accessed the system:

[Successfully countered the enemy's elite pursuit force, annihilating the reinforced platoon of the "Anti-Guerrilla Task Force".]

The enemy forces consisted mostly of experienced non-commissioned officers and junior officers, and were well-equipped.

[Gain battlefield points based on enemy quality, tactical value, and threat elimination: +250,000.]

Current battlefield score: 2,678,398 + 250,000 = 2,928,398 points.

Main quest progress: 2,928,398 / 100,000,000 ≈ 2.928%

[Advanced individual soldier communication equipment and identification tags were seized; their intelligence value is yet to be assessed.]

Nearly three million points. He Yuzhu stared at the numbers, then looked again at the sophisticated yet slightly out-of-touch equipment. Hunting and counter-hunting would become the norm in the future. And all he needed to do was lead his battalion on this road riddled with sniper traps until no one dared to follow them anymore.