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

The rain started in the latter half of the night, a light drizzle, chilling to the bone.

The reconnaissance battalion retreated to their rear rest area and huddled in semi-underground bunkers. The sound of rain dripping through the soil above them could be heard, and the air was filled with the smells of damp earth, rotten wood, sweat, and gunpowder.

By the dim light of the kerosene lamp, Old Geng clumsily mended a combat uniform torn by thorns—the stitches were as thick as centipedes, each stitch like a struggle. Zhang Dashan was engrossed in inspecting the firing pin of his rifle, his fingertips repeatedly rubbing the metal parts. Wu Dayong sat against the wall, his eyes fixed on the dark ceiling, lost in thought. Some of the company and platoon leaders were dozing off, while others whispered about what crops to plant back home.

Life seemed to have been temporarily pulled away from the edge of a knife, and a somewhat dull period of calm followed.

It wasn't until Xiao Li, the clerk from the battalion headquarters, ran in, wading through the muddy water, that the sound came.

"Battalion Commander, a report from the division headquarters, and... a translated copy of a foreign telegram." Xiao Li placed the documents on a table made of ammunition boxes, his voice low, but the bunker was so quiet that everyone could hear him.

He Yuzhu wiped his hands and picked up the top copy. The smell of ink hadn't completely dissipated. The first few pages described the battlefield situation and boosted morale. Turning to the back, several paragraphs were underlined in red pen.

His gaze swept over the area, then suddenly froze.

The hairs on my back stood on end.

The report stated that senior U.S. military officials and Western media have recently been sending signals that "military operations in North Korea have encountered unexpected, asymmetric, and unpredictable resistance," and that the war risks reaching a stalemate. "In order to end the conflict as soon as possible, the use of all necessary means at the tactical level, including certain new weapons with decisive effects, cannot be ruled out."

The wording was diplomatic, but the phrases "new type of weapon" and "decisive effect" stung like icy needles.

In this day and age, what else can it refer to?

He put down the briefing and grabbed several foreign news reports from the side. The headlines in Western newspapers were alarming: "Choices in a Stalemate?", "US General Hints at 'Final Solution'", "The Shadow of the Mushroom Cloud Looms Over the Peninsula"... Articles quoted "anonymous senior officials" discussing the "possibility" of using "tactical nuclear weapons" in North Korea. Some even began to calculate the targets and yields.

The bunker was completely silent.

Only the sound of raindrops falling and the slight creaking of paper being squeezed tightly remained.

Old Geng's needle and thread stopped in mid-air. Zhang Dashan looked up. Wu Dayong's gaze returned from the ceiling. Everyone looked at He Yuzhu, at his face, which had suddenly frozen in the dim light.

"Battalion Commander... what's wrong?" Old Geng's throat was dry.

He Yuzhu didn't answer immediately. He twirled the rough edge of the paper, his mind racing through fragments of memories—his own incomplete understanding of this era.

Historically, the Korean War did indeed teeter on the brink of nuclear threat. However, it was ultimately not carried out. The reasons were complex: Soviet containment, international public opinion, and the United States' own cost calculations.

But now?

The towering flames of Raven Valley, the annihilation of the task force, the bridges repeatedly blown up, the radar stations overturned, the logistics lines disrupted... how many of these things did not exist in the original history?

How many of these were caused by the "butterfly" he brought with him, who possessed the system?

A chilling, metallic scent crept up from the soles of my feet and gripped my heart.

"It's nothing." He finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse, but quickly regained its composure. "The enemy is making threats to boost their morale and put pressure on us. The same old tricks."

He gathered the documents and handed them to Xiao Li: "File them. Notify all companies: strengthen air-raid shelters and deepen artillery emplacements. Continue chemical defense training and simple protection against strong light and shockwaves until it becomes a conditioned reflex."

Xiao Li responded and went out. But the atmosphere in the bunker was far from relaxed. They were all men who had survived countless battles, and everyone could see the battalion commander's momentary loss of composure and the heavy atmosphere that followed.

"New type of weapon"... "Tactical nuclear weapon"...

These words, once distant, now weigh heavily on everyone's heart.

Zhang Dashan suddenly spoke up, his voice rough: "Whatever weapons they are, if they come, we'll still fight them."

Old Geng tucked the needle back into his collar and spat, "Exactly! Could it be more sinister than an incendiary bomb?"

He Yuzhu didn't reply. His gaze swept over every face—young or weathered, weary yet still with their eyes open. He knew these people trusted him and relied on his judgment. And just now, he had almost betrayed the fear stemming from his historical knowledge.

That's not right.

He stood up, his voice deep and steady: "Old Zhang is right. No matter how new the weapons are, they are still used by people. We've never been afraid of planes and artillery before, and we won't be in the future. But—" He paused, "but we can't underestimate them. Starting today, the bunker standards will be raised one level. Add one more training item: enter full protective gear within fifteen seconds. If you don't practice well, I'll personally supervise your training."

The company commanders exchanged glances and nodded emphatically.

A few days later, the division headquarters convened an emergency meeting of officers at the battalion level and above.

The meeting was held in a reinforced underground bunker, the atmosphere even more somber than the gloomy, rainy day outside. Commander Song stood at the front, his usual gentle demeanor gone, replaced by a cold, stern expression. He carried no notes, his gaze sweeping over each officer like a brush.

"You've all heard about the situation," Commander Song said bluntly, his voice low but clear. "The enemy has run into trouble at the front, suffered losses, and is under increasing pressure both domestically and internationally. They're starting to act desperately, resorting to empty boasts to intimidate us. What 'new weapons,' what 'tactical nuclear superiority'—" He scoffed, his contempt and anger undisguised. "Trying to scare us? Dream on! From the day we crossed the Yalu River, we knew we were facing imperialism armed to the teeth! Haven't we seen planes and artillery? Haven't we seen incendiary bombs? What's one more thing?"

He paused, his tone resolute: "The instructions from above are clear: First, prepare for the worst-case scenario! Training plans for air defense, artillery defense, special attack defense, and defense against those 'special' lethal methods must be implemented thoroughly! There can be no room for complacency!"

"Second—" Commander Song's eyes blazed, "and more importantly—you fight your way, I fight mine! He tries to intimidate us with underhanded tactics, to shake our resolve, but we won't fall for it! Not only will we not waver, but we will also use even more resolute combat and fiercer attacks to tell him, and the whole world: the Chinese people and the Korean people will not buy into this! We will use bayonets and bullets to completely shatter all their illusions!"

His voice suddenly rose, filled with a do-or-die determination: "The war may be entering a new, more brutal phase. But victory will always belong to the people who are not afraid of tyranny and dare to fight! Go back and pass on this spirit to every soldier. Clench your fists and sharpen your swords! The next step will bring even more arduous tasks. Do you have the confidence to complete them?"

"Yes!" A deep, rumbling response rolled across the bunker.

Sitting in the crowd, He Yuzhu clearly sensed that something was different.

The mission used to be to advance the front lines, to kill the enemy, and to survive. Now, it carries a heavier and grander meaning: to prevent the mushroom cloud that may fall, to bring the war back to a "normal" track, even if that "normal" track is already bloody enough.

After the meeting, Commander Song kept He Yuzhu behind alone.

"He Weiguo," Commander Song looked at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions, "your battalion's previous actions were too much. Good, and bad. The good thing is that you demonstrated national power and military might, and made the enemy feel the pain. The bad thing is... now, you've been placed in a special position."

He patted He Yuzhu on the shoulder, the force quite strong: "Next, you might no longer be just simple daggers. You might become... a thorn stuck in the enemy's eye, forcing them to concentrate on dealing with it, leaving them no time to think of other underhanded schemes, the hardest thorn. Understand?"

He Yuzhu stood at attention: "Understood, Commander!"

"Good, I understand." Commander Song nodded. "Go back and prepare. Specific tasks will be issued soon. Remember, no matter how difficult or dangerous, this 'thorn' must be driven deep, firmly, and so deeply that the enemy cannot sleep at night!"

As I walked out of the division headquarters, the rain still hadn't stopped.

The cold raindrops hit his face, but He Yuzhu felt the chill in his heart being suppressed by something else burning hot.

The war has escalated.

From platoon-level raids to battalion-level strategic strikes, and now, they are subtly touching upon the most terrifying shadow hanging over all of humanity.

In my mind, the system notification sounded, but it seemed to carry a heavy lingering tone unlike anything I'd heard before:

[Host behavior has been detected to have a significant and far-reaching causal impact at the campaign level. External environmental variables have changed drastically, exceeding high-risk thresholds. This has triggered a long-term potential crisis/mission indicator: "Nuclear Shadow." Explanation: The host's timeline is being interfered with by an unknown force. This indicator does not provide immediate points or rewards; it serves only as an early warning of a high-risk environment and a link to potential subsequent missions. The host is advised to carefully assess the long-term impact of their actions.]

No points.

There was only one cold sign and an even colder fact: this butterfly may have really brought the storm to its own head.

He raised his head and looked towards the gloomy southern sky.

Behind the rain curtain lies the enemy's defensive line and the command post, which may be brewing an even more insane retaliation.

Thorns, right?

Then hone yourself into the sharpest and most resilient one.

Before the shadow of the mushroom cloud truly descends, expose all the madness that attempts to use it.

The road became narrower and steeper.