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

The murky water in the flat kettle, with its rusty taste, ultimately failed to quench his thirst.

Just as the people on Dingzi Rock were hoarse from thirst, two soldiers sneaked down the mountain at night to find water and dug out a small puddle of muddy water under the rocks in the dry riverbed.

The water was murky and yellowish, mixed with sand, and had to be filtered through cloth repeatedly. This little bit of muddy soup was enough to moisten the lips of the entire battalion and keep them alive. Immediately afterwards, the division, using some unknown method, organized a reckless transport team that, taking advantage of the thick fog, carried the supplies on their backs and shoulders, managing to break through the blockade and deliver a batch of fried noodles, ammunition, and the most precious medicine.

The supplies were meager, enough to last only three or four days. But even this small amount of supplies pulled the reconnaissance battalion back from the brink of starvation and thirst. Life returned to the position; the clanging of fortifications filled the air, even though everyone was emaciated and their eyes were sunken.

At that moment, a message so distant it seemed almost unreal drifted to the front lines, carried by the division headquarters' notification and whispers from the rear: ceasefire negotiations had begun.

"Negotiations?" He Yuzhu was squatting at the tunnel entrance, munching on compressed biscuits, when he heard this word. He froze, swallowing the crumbs with difficulty, his throat aching from the scrapes. Negotiations were a good thing; everyone hoped for them. But looking up at the circling enemy planes and listening to the distant rumble of artillery, the word "negotiations" seemed too light and inapplicable to this blood-soaked battlefield.

Sure enough, the division's enemy intelligence report followed closely: negotiations had been held, but the enemy had ulterior motives and wanted to reclaim what they couldn't get on the battlefield. Therefore, the front line could not be relaxed, the fists could not be softened, the battle had to continue, and it had to be fought even better—to let the enemy know that talking was useless and that they had to exchange something real.

This is what "fighting while negotiating" means. He Yuzhu understood the implications: the negotiating table is another battlefront; the real battle on this side is the bargaining chip to support the other side. If you fight hard, they'll be polite at the table; if you show weakness, they'll immediately take advantage of you.

Chips. Those who held their ground became silent, bloodstained chips on that huge negotiating table.

The pressure came in more concrete form. The enemy's "summer offensive" began, focusing on the eastern front, attempting to break through the defenses and bolster the negotiators' confidence. Although the area where the reconnaissance battalion was located was not the main direction of attack, it was naturally a "hard nut to crack" that had repeatedly caused the enemy to suffer losses, and thus received "special attention."

This time, it wasn't just a simple infantry charge, nor a swarm of aircraft. It was tanks, many tanks, arranged in a wedge formation under the cover of artillery and aircraft, like a herd of steel boars charging headlong into the defensive line. The tactical intention was clear: "tank penetration warfare"—to forcefully tear open a gap with armored forces, with infantry following up to expand and dismantle the entire defensive line.

"They're treating us like bones to be gnawed at, trying to bite us off in one go." Old Geng's face turned ashen as he looked at the sketches the scouts had risked their lives to bring back. The arrows representing tanks on the sketches were thick and menacing.

He Yuzhu remained silent, his finger moving across the terrain in front of the defense zone on the map. This area was called "Eagle's Beak," a menacing name, and the terrain was unfriendly—two steep ridges sandwiching a gentle valley, like a gap pecked out by an eagle. Enemy tanks would almost certainly have to pass through here to break through.

"Since they like to pass through here," He Yuzhu's finger stopped at the valley entrance, "we should 'treat' them well."

He immediately summoned the company and platoon leaders to make arrangements. Time was of the essence.

"First, bring out all the anti-tank mines. Don't bury them in open areas, but at the entrances, middle sections, and bends of valleys. Bury them densely, and mix in anti-personnel mines so their engineers can't keep up."

"Second, all rocket launchers, recoilless rifles, and captured anti-tank guns should be concentrated and deployed on the reverse slopes of the ridges on both sides of the valley. The firing data should be pre-calibrated, and the focus should be on the sides and rear of the tanks. We should wait until they enter the valley and crowd together before opening fire."

"Third, infantry, in squads and platoons, should be equipped with sufficient explosive charges, demolition charges, and cluster grenades. Do not hold surface positions; all should retreat into the tunnels and concealed positions on the hillsides on both sides. Once the artillery fire has stunned and halted the tanks, you should crawl out and press yourselves against them, blowing up the tracks, blocking observation ports, and bombing wherever the tanks are weak!"

"Fourth, communications must be absolutely uninterrupted. All firing positions and attack units must obey unified commands. No one is allowed to expose themselves beforehand without my order!"

The order was given, and the entire battalion spun like a top. Everyone who could move went to their positions, digging holes, laying mines, reinforcing firing points, and checking weapons. He Yuzhu moved the battalion command post to the observation post on the ridge of "Eagle's Beak," where the view was best, overlooking the entire valley. He pinned a map full of markings to the wall, with a telephone hanging next to it, his eyes fixed on the direction of the valley entrance.

Qin Huairu was allowed to stay in the rear bunker this time. She didn't try to go to the front, but silently arranged her bandages and prepared first-aid supplies. Occasionally, she would look up in He Yuzhu's direction, her eyes filled with deep worry. She knew that this would be a decisive defensive battle, possibly even more dangerous than Spike Rock.

At dawn, the enemy's artillery barrage arrived precisely on time, fiercer and longer than ever before. "Eagle's Beak" shook violently, smoke and dust obscuring the sky. As the artillery fire extended deeper into enemy territory, a deep rumble echoed from the ground—tank formations were moving out.

Through the binoculars, a dozen or so M26 Pershings and M4 Shermans, lined up in an attack formation, rolled over the ground plowed by artillery fire, and charged menacingly toward the valley entrance. Behind them followed a dense mass of infantry.

He Yuzhu's palms were slightly sweaty, but his voice was steady: "Reports from each unit."

"Minefield in position!"

"Anti-tank firepower in position!"

"Attack squad, in position!"

Without hesitation, the tanks charged straight into the valley entrance. The lead Pershing had just rounded the first bend when flames and black smoke suddenly erupted from under its wheels—with a deafening roar, the tracks snapped, and the heavy vehicle veered to one side, coming to rest across the narrow passage.

The tanks behind were blocked, and they tried to bypass or push aside their disabled comrades. Just then, He Yuzhu roared into the phone: "Anti-tank fire, open fire!"

In an instant, rockets and artillery shells, concealed behind the ridges on both sides, suddenly emerged like venomous snakes, biting down hard on the huddled steel behemoth from the sides and rear. Explosions rang out one after another; the turret of one Sherman was blown off, and another was hit in the side and burst into flames. The enemy tank column was thrown into chaos.

"Assault team, charge!"

The order was relayed via telephone and flag signals. The soldiers, who had been waiting for a long time, emerged like groundhogs from various tunnel entrances and rock crevices on the mountainside, carrying explosive packs and demolition charges. Using the terrain and smoke as cover, they crouched low and pounced on the chaotic tank formation.

The battle quickly intensified. Tank machine guns fired wildly, attempting to disperse these reckless "ants." Soldiers fell one after another during the charge, but more rushed to the tanks, stuffing demolition charges into the tracks and throwing explosive packs into the engine compartments. Explosions echoed at close range, and several more tanks came to a stop, smoking.

He Yuzhu's heart clenched in the observation post. He saw a soldier who had just attached an explosive charge to the side of a tank be swept down by machine gun fire. The explosive charge rolled to the ground and was picked up by another soldier who rushed over and pounced on it again... He saw a tank try to reverse and escape, but was hit in the rear by a rocket-propelled grenade flying from the side and stopped completely.

The battle raged from morning into afternoon. The enemy launched several reinforcement counterattacks in an attempt to rescue the besieged tanks or open a passage, but they were all stubbornly repelled by pre-positioned firepower and the infantry constantly pouring out of the tunnels. As the sun set and the smoke dissipated, the "Eagle's Beak" valley was filled with the wreckage of smoking tanks and the remains of soldiers from both sides.

Preliminary count: Seven enemy tanks were confirmed destroyed, four tanks were damaged or killed, and numerous enemy infantry were killed or wounded. The reconnaissance battalion itself suffered over forty casualties.

Exhausted, the soldiers silently began clearing the battlefield, collecting the bodies of their fallen comrades, and treating the wounded. He Yuzhu leaned against the earthen wall of the observation post, feeling as if all the bones in his body were about to fall apart. He slowly unfolded the map, which was soaked with sweat, looked at the "eagle's beak" position, and with trembling hands, he fiercely crossed out the thick arrow representing the enemy's attack.

[Successfully commanded and implemented key anti-armor defense operations, thwarting the enemy's "tank penetration" attempt and causing significant damage to enemy high-tech equipment.]

[Gain Battle Points: +350,000 (including high-value tank targets).]

Battlefield Points: 5,691,398 + 350,000 = 6,041,398 points.

Total points surpass 6,000,000!

[System notification: You have accumulated 5,000,000 points. The preview of the intermediate tech tree is now clearer. Some items are visible, but redemption requires a large number of points and meeting specific prerequisites.]

He had surpassed the six million mark. He closed his eyes, and his mind no longer held a simple list of items, but rather seemed to unfold a more complex and expansive picture. Fragmented terms and concepts flickered within: "high-efficiency lightweight battery technology," "first-generation composite materials," "basic battlefield data link concept"... Each one seemed unattainable, yet radiated an alluring glow.

He opened his eyes and gazed at the steel graveyard in the valley. The smoke of battle on the other side of the negotiating table would ultimately require the iron and blood of this battlefield to respond. And what he could rely on, besides his blood-soaked brothers, was perhaps only the increasingly clear, yet increasingly unattainable future in his mind.