Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

"Brother, let's eat and talk."

Zhao Pingan then pointed to the untouched meat buns and the now-cold brown rice porridge on the table.

He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice.

"Here's what happened. A few days ago, by chance, I saved a merchant who was being robbed by fleeing soldiers."

This person... has connections; he can make connections in the south, the north, and even overseas.

Out of gratitude and seeing our predicament, he promised to help me procure some scarce supplies.

However, the prerequisite is that you must exchange it for hard currency, mainly gold and silver dollars. The price is fairer than on the black market, and the goods are of good quality.

Zhao Ping'an fabricated a half-true, half-false reason to obscure the system as a "businessman" with a powerful background.

"What I have today is what I've saved up over the years, plus..."

In addition, the first batch of goods was obtained by exchanging gold with a local gentry member in the city who was willing to provide financial assistance—Lou Bancheng, the owner of Lou Bancheng.

Zhao Ping'an temporarily skipped the details of Lou Bancheng's transaction, only mentioning the result.

"The main purpose is to solve the immediate problem, so that the brothers can have food and put on cotton-padded clothes."

Zhao Dongliang frowned as he listened, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table.

"A businessman? Is he reliable? At a time like this, someone with such connections... is no ordinary person. Could it be a scam?"

Or, it's over there...

He pointed in the direction of Shijiazhuang, the place where they used to be stationed, but now it had a new owner. His voice lowered.

"I've tested it, it doesn't seem like it," Zhao Ping'an shook his head.

"They're more like smugglers with international connections, only interested in money, not people."

I've inspected the goods, and they're all genuinely high-quality products.

Brother, in this world, mountains crumble and people run away.

You know better than I what the headquarters looks like.

Although you were the deputy commander's bodyguard before, how long have you been in the company?

The friendship is still there, but it's definitely not as strong as it used to be.

In particular, nowadays, the deputy commander doesn't have the final say in this area; the Central Army might be more effective.

Just look at how you've been trying to get supplies these past few days, and it seems we're just waiting for their supplies.

Our battalion, let alone expanding the city regiment according to the deputy commander's orders, is in serious trouble even if it is restored to its original structure.

I'm afraid it won't be long before either the brothers starve or freeze to death, or they all break up and run away.

These words struck a nerve with Zhao Dongliang.

He recalled the indifferent faces in the headquarters and the despair of returning empty-handed, and his eyes darkened.

Zhao Pingan continued to increase the stakes, his voice low but powerful:

"Brother, we need to have our own food in our hands before we can feel at ease."

With a stable supply route, we can keep our troops in place and win hearts and minds.

The team has gained vitality and a solid foundation. As for the future...

The situation changes every day. With guns, men, and food, no matter how things change in the future,

Only then will we have the confidence to speak up and be able to find a real way to survive for our brothers who follow us.

"Find a way for our brothers to survive..."

Zhao Dongliang murmured the same sentence over and over again, which was the heaviest and most powerless pressure he felt as the newly formed regimental commander.

He looked at his younger brother, Zhao Ping'an, whose eyes were firm and whose mind was clear. The restlessness and confusion of the past were nowhere to be found in him. This change shocked him more than the supplies.

My brother is right. Sitting here and waiting to die will only lead to our demise.

Since the official channels are blocked, then this mysterious but effective "merchant" channel will work.

It might be the only chance of survival. Although the risks are unknown, it's worth the gamble compared to the current desperate situation.

The room fell silent, broken only by the occasional soft crackling of the oil lamp's flame.

After a long while, Zhao Dongliang let out a long breath, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

It's as if a major decision has been made.

Zhao Dongliang raised his head, his gaze becoming resolute: "Ping An, you're right. We have to take this path. However..."

His tone turned stern, "This matter is of utmost importance and must be kept absolutely secret! Those involved must be absolutely reliable."

The source of the supplies and the details of the transactions must not be known to any third person other than you and me!

To the outside world, just say it's... a secret donation from patriotic overseas Chinese, or spoils of war from trade. Understand?

"Understood!" Zhao Ping'an felt relieved, knowing that he had passed his elder brother's test.

He solemnly replied, "Brother, don't worry, I know what's important."

The most important thing right now is to restore the entire battalion to its former strength and expand it into a regiment.

With this batch of winter clothing and food, we can at least get through the winter safely.

There are even plenty of able-bodied young men and women in the neighborhood who have nothing to eat; we can contribute some food.

Maybe we really can expand it into a regiment; then we'll have men and guns.

We'll discuss the next steps later.

Zhao Dongliang nodded, a hint of relief finally appearing on his tired face.

"Go, distribute the supplies. Tell the brothers..." He paused.

"We said that the group would do its best to ensure everyone has enough to eat and wear, and get through this difficult time together."

"Yes!" Zhao Ping'an stood up at attention.

Stepping out of the regimental headquarters, a cold wind swept across his face, but Zhao Ping'an felt a surge of warmth in his heart.

Having obtained the elder brother's tacit approval and authorization is equivalent to holding the key to the team's future development.

Although the system consumed a significant amount of funds, it laid the most crucial foundation for establishing a foothold in the military.

—Trust and initial autonomy.

Zhao Ping'an sensed that something was beginning to change.

The next step is to make this team, which is barely making ends meet, truly powerful.

And there are still some things in his system that are waiting to be put to use.

As the days went by, the sky over Wayaocun remained leaden gray, but the atmosphere in the camp was subtly different.

The most obvious change was in the people. The soldiers were wrapped in thick new cotton overcoats, wore cotton caps with ear flaps, tightly stitched gloves, and dry, warm cotton shoes.

In the harsh winters of previous years in Beiping, this was equipment that even many officers might not have been able to acquire.

At first, everyone was a little incredulous, and they unconsciously tucked their hands into their sleeves while walking, afraid of getting their "treasure" dirty or torn.

But after a few days, the real warmth enveloped his whole body, making his joints, which had been numb from the cold, come back to life. That careful appreciation gradually turned into more powerful steps during training and a straighter back when on duty.

The kitchen became the busiest place every day. The brown rice porridge was replaced with white rice porridge, and it was being cooked thicker and thicker.

Occasionally, you can see a few specks of oil—that's from frying fatty pork.

Zhao Ping'an gave an order that people should gradually adapt to the meat, but each person must eat at least one ounce of meat per day.

What made the soldiers secretly smack their lips even more was the salt.

Each person received a small packet of snow-white, fine-textured salt with no bitter taste.

The veterans would bring it to villagers from nearby villages who came to sell their mountain products in exchange for tobacco or a small jar of their homemade pickled vegetables.

The villagers were initially hesitant to accept the gifts, but later, seeing that the soldiers were genuinely just exchanging things and their eyes weren't as fierce as before, they accepted them with some skepticism.

That salt was far superior to the official salt and coarse salt they had ever seen. They couldn't bear to eat it themselves, but they could probably exchange it for more things in town.

After a while, villagers would occasionally peek out from outside the camp, leaving behind bundles of firewood or a basket of frozen radishes, timidly gesturing as if hoping to exchange them for salt or meat.

The transactions were silent and cautious, but the icy river that stretched between the soldiers and the common people...

It seems that these small, practical exchanges have carved out a barely perceptible crack.