Love in the Courtyard: Starting with Engineers

The waves of the East China Sea, carrying charred wreckage, pounded against the hull of the Raifu, the last destroyer of the Japanese Navy.

The ship was riddled with holes, the deck was covered with bullet holes and bloodstains, and thick smoke billowed from the damaged cabins, making it difficult to breathe.

Commander Yamada Isamu stood atop the bridge, his uniform blackened by gunpowder smoke, his left arm wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage, and he held his sword aloft.

"Warriors! The glory of the Great Japan must not end here!"

"We are the last warriors of the Empire. Even if only one ship and one man remain, we will charge towards the Chinese fleet!"

"Let us atone for the sins of our nation with our blood, and pave the way for future generations!"

Before him, the surviving soldiers sat or stood, their eyes vacant and filled with despair.

Some soldiers clutched broken guns, tears mixed with oil streaming down their faces.

Some slumped on the deck, muttering the names of their family members, having long lost their will to fight.

Yamada Isamu's mobilization was like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, creating only weak ripples, but failing to reignite the former fervor.

Yamano Jiro leaned against a leaning mast, his military uniform torn, revealing abrasions and burns on his body.

He subconsciously touched his waist, where the samurai sword his mother had given him should have been hanging, but it was now empty.

His eldest brother and third brother had both perished in the previous bombing, their remains never found, leaving him all alone standing on this dying warship.

Recalling his mother's expectations and the passionate vows of the three brothers before he set off, a strange sense of regret suddenly welled up in his heart.

If we hadn't listened to those fanatical propaganda, if we hadn't insisted on going to the battlefield, would our brothers still be alive?

But this regret was fleeting; he shook his head sharply, dispelling the distracting thoughts.

Looking at the few soldiers around him who were still shouting, and listening to Yamada Isamu repeatedly shouting "For Japan!"

He took a deep breath, raised his fist, and roared with all his might, "For Japan! For glory!" His voice trembled slightly, without him even realizing it, but it was eventually drowned out by the shouts of battle around him.

"Attention all crew! Full throttle! Full speed ahead! Target: Chinese fleet!"

The Lei Feng destroyer, dragging its battered hull like a wounded beast, launched its final charge toward the Chinese fleet that was beginning to emerge on the distant horizon.

The ship's main guns had long been destroyed, and the soldiers could only use rifles and machine guns to fire into the distance. The bullets fell into the sea, creating tiny ripples.

The radar of the Chinese fleet had already locked onto this desperate destroyer.

Lieutenant General Zhou Zhenghong watched the slowly moving dot on the screen: "No need to waste too much firepower. One anti-ship missile will end the battle."

Upon receiving the order, the missile launcher on a Chinese destroyer slowly rose, and an anti-ship missile roared out, trailing a long plume of flame, and flew precisely toward the Lei Feng.

As Yamada Isamu watched the missile draw ever closer, a resolute glint flashed in his eyes. He opened his arms as if to embrace death: "Long live His Majesty the Emperor!"

The deafening explosion was deafening. The Lei Feng was hit directly by the missile and instantly broke in two.

The soldiers on deck were thrown into the cold sea by the shockwave from the explosion, and Yamano Jiro was not spared either.

Before he lost consciousness, he saw the samurai sword his mother had given him being swept into the air by the blast wave, then crashing heavily into the sea. It flashed in the blue waves and then sank into the deep sea, never to be seen again.

The Japanese mainland is now completely shrouded in an atmosphere of despair.

On the streets of Tokyo, banners that once adorned with war slogans were torn to shreds and scattered on the ground, while pedestrians looked panicked, their faces filled with fear and bewilderment.

The television played a loop of battle reports about the complete annihilation of the navy and the destruction of the air force, along with images of wreckage floating on the East China Sea. The narrator's voice trembled uncontrollably, devoid of its former fervor.

"It's over, everything is over..." A middle-aged man collapsed on the street, holding his head in his hands and crying uncontrollably.

His son was a naval soldier, and his fate is now unknown.

People who were once proud of their sons joining the army are now filled with endless regret and panic. Some people gathered outside the Prime Minister's residence, crying out for an end to the war, but were dispersed by the military and police.

In Yamano Jiro's home, his mother was kneeling before the shrine, with photos of her three sons in front of her.

Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair disheveled, and she kept muttering, "Jiro, why haven't you come back yet? Have the Chinese trapped you?"

"Keep up the good work! Kill those Chinese and bring glory to our country!"

A neighbor rushed over to tell her the news of the complete annihilation of the Japanese fleet, but she waved her hand frantically, shouting, "You're lying! My sons are warriors, they will surely return victorious!"

She jumped to her feet, grabbed the samurai sword hanging on the wall, rushed out of the house, and ran wildly through the streets, shouting, "Let me go to the front lines! I want revenge for my sons! I want to kill all the Chinese!"

His frenzied behavior made everyone around him want to avoid him.

Inside the Prime Minister's official residence, the Prime Minister stood in front of a huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the chaotic streets outside, clutching a battle report tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

The figures in the battle report were shocking: all naval ships were destroyed, all air force aircraft were lost, and the number of casualties had exceeded 100,000.

On television, the world was broadcasting China's victory, and media from various countries commented that Japan's defeat was a foregone conclusion.

His face was deathly pale, his body trembled slightly, but he murmured to himself, "We haven't lost yet... We still have the United States... The United States will definitely help us."

As if grasping at a last straw, he immediately dialed the phone number of the president of Country M, his voice filled with urgent pleading.

"Mr. President, we need support, immediately! The Chinese fleet is about to approach our homeland. We beg you, send troops to help us!"

On the East China Sea, countless bright spots appeared on the radar screens of the Chinese fleet.

The M country's aircraft carrier group finally arrived at the battlefield, with more than ten ships lined up, facing the Chinese fleet from a distance. The carrier-based aircraft on board had already taken off, forming a tight defensive circle.

Commander Mark Wilson of the M-country fleet stood on the bridge, his brow furrowed as he looked at the deployment of the Chinese fleet on the screen, his heart filled with apprehension.

He picked up the communicator and connected to the Ministry of National Defense of the United States: "Minister, we have arrived in the East China Sea. The Chinese fleet is just ahead."

Should we launch an attack? Please advise!

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone before the minister's solemn voice came through.

"General Wilson, do not act rashly."

"China's military strength far exceeds our expectations. Japan has already been defeated, and we cannot wage a full-scale war against China for the sake of a loser. Closely monitor the movements of the Chinese fleet and await further instructions."

Mark Wilson felt a pang of unease; he knew the minister's decision was wise.

Looking at the orderly formation of the Chinese fleet in the distance and the swarm of drones hovering in the sky, he took a deep breath and gave the order.

"Attention all units: maintain a safe distance, refrain from firing first, closely monitor the movements of the Chinese fleet, and report back immediately!"

On the East China Sea, the fleets of the two countries faced each other from a distance, and the atmosphere became tense once again.

Meanwhile, in Japan, despair continued to spread as the reinforcements from the United States, which they had been hoping for, showed no signs of launching an attack.