He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The early summer breeze, carrying the scent of wheat, blew through the green sorghum. He Yuyang lay prone behind the edge of the field, his binoculars scanning the distant woods—as agreed, the local guerrillas would come from there at noon to join their company.

"Brother, do you think the guerrillas are amazing?" Zhao Dayong asked, a straw dangling from his mouth, his eyes sparkling. "I heard from Old Li in the cookhouse that they specialize in sniping, appearing and disappearing like ghosts. Last time they even took down an enemy pillbox!"

He Yuyang put down his binoculars and rubbed his sore eyes. Three consecutive days of forced marching had left dark circles under his eyes, but he was still full of energy. Being able to rendezvous with the guerrillas meant he could get more detailed intelligence and replenish some much-needed supplies—most importantly, the guerrillas were familiar with the terrain and might know something about Qinghe County.

"Don't listen to Lao Li's nonsense." He patted Zhao Dayong on the back of the head. "The guerrillas are our comrades. They're all fighting to win battles. There's no question of how powerful they are." Although he said that, he was also a little expectant. His fingers unconsciously rubbed the tin box in his arms, which contained Liu Yan's letter. He had already worn the edges of it so much that they were rough.

As the sun climbed directly overhead, there was finally some movement in the woods. First, a few sparrows took flight in fright, and then a dozen or so people dressed in coarse cloth and carrying rifles emerged. The leader was a man in his forties with dark skin, broad shoulders, and a ramrod-straight back as he walked.

"It's Captain Wang!" the communications officer whispered, quickly standing up from behind the paddy field ridge and waving. "We're from the Second Company of the Third Regiment, here to meet you!"

Upon seeing the signal, the man quickened his pace. As he approached, He Yuyang noticed that his trousers were covered in mud, his cuffs were frayed, and he had a Mauser pistol tucked into his waistband with a gleaming holster. Yet, his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.

"I'm Wang Qiang from the guerrilla force." The man stretched out his hand, his voice booming. "We've been waiting for you! If you hadn't come soon, the enemy would have taken everything we had."

The company commander quickly grasped his hand: "Captain Wang, you've worked hard! I was delayed on the way, and I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

The two exchanged pleasantries as they walked towards their temporary encampment. He Yuyang followed behind, his gaze sweeping over the guerrilla fighters. Suddenly, he stopped—at the back of the column, a figure carrying a medicine box made his heart leap.

The man was wearing a faded blue cotton jacket, his hair was tied back with a cloth strip, and he was leaning on a wooden stick, walking rather slowly. But his back view and the way he walked were exactly like the person he had been thinking about day and night.

"Master Zhou?" He Yuyang called out tentatively, his voice trembling.

The man turned around abruptly, the sunlight shining directly on his face—the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were deeper, and there was some white frost at his temples, but his eyes, gentle yet sharp, belonged to Zhou Zhengguo!

"Yu Yang?" Zhou Zhengguo was also stunned. The wooden stick in his hand clattered to the ground. He quickly walked over, grabbed He Yu Yang's arm, looked him up and down, and his eyes instantly reddened. "It really is you! You've grown so tall..."

He Yuyang's nose tingled, and tears almost welled up in his eyes. How long had it been since he'd seen Zhou Zhengguo? It seemed like he hadn't seen him since he joined the army and left Qinghe County. In his memory, Master Zhou was still the same person who taught him horse stance and boxing techniques at the martial arts school, but now he looked so weathered.

"Master!" he cried out, but a thousand words stuck in his throat, and he couldn't say them.

Zhou Zhengguo patted his shoulder and pressed it hard, as if to confirm that the boy in front of him was real. His hands were rough, covered with calluses, and had several fresh scars, clearly indicating that he had not had an easy life over the years.

"Good lad, you didn't let your master down." Zhou Zhengguo smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes crinkling together with satisfaction. "I heard you made a great contribution in the battle at Eagle Beak Cliff? The company commander praised you to me, saying you're a good soldier."

He Yuyang then realized that the company commander had known Zhou Zhengguo for a long time—the guerrillas had frequent contact with him, and Zhou Zhengguo was in charge of intelligence transmission, having dealt with many military officers.

Upon arriving at their temporary encampment, they found themselves in an abandoned village. Although the houses were dilapidated, they were still relatively intact. The company commander and Captain Wang went to discuss their next move, while Zhou Zhengguo pulled He Yuyang to sit under an old locust tree at the village entrance. He pulled a cloth bag from his pocket, inside which were several roasted sweet potatoes, still warm.

"Eat up, I just got these from a fellow villager." Zhou Zhengguo shoved a sweet potato into his hand. "You're so thin, didn't you get enough to eat in the army?"

He Yuyang took a bite of sweet potato, the sweet warmth flowing from his throat to his heart. He quickly asked, "Master, how are my parents and younger siblings? Are they safe at their old house in the countryside?"

"Don't worry, everything's fine." Zhou Zhengguo's tone was very certain. "Your mother listened to you and didn't go back to the courtyard house. I sent them to Lijia'ao, on the edge of the base area. That place is remote, and the enemy can't find them. Your father teaches the children to read in the village, and your mother grows a vegetable garden. They live a peaceful life."

He paused, as if remembering something, and then said, "That kid Zhuzi has really made something of himself these days. All the students at the martial arts school respect him. Last time the county security team came to conscript men, he led his men and drove them away, even seizing two guns!"

He Yuyang's eyes lit up: "Really? That kid didn't cause any trouble, did he?"

"He didn't cause any trouble and knew what he was doing," Zhou Zhengguo said with a smile. "He talks about you every day, saying that when he grows up, he wants to join the army like you and fight alongside you. By the way, Yushui has grown taller too, with two little braids, looking like a little girl. She clutches the peace lock you gave her every day, and she doesn't even let go of it while sleeping."

Hearing that his family was well, He Yuyang finally felt relieved. He then remembered the Yan Bugui family mentioned in the letter and asked, "Did Uncle Yan and the others also go to Lijia'ao?"

"He's gone," Zhou Zhengguo nodded. "Old Yan is a master at accounting. He's currently helping manage logistics in the base area, collecting grain and keeping accounts, and he's doing it all very well. He even told me that when you go back, he'll do some accounting for you and see how many meals of braised pork you owe him over the years."

He Yuyang laughed, but his eyes were a little moist. He could almost see Yan Bugui wearing glasses, writing and drawing in the ledger; he could hear He Zhu shouting slogans to train his disciples in the martial arts school; he could see Yushui clutching the safety lock, running after He Zhu... These images were his warmest support amidst the hail of bullets.

"Master, how did you end up joining the guerrillas?" He Yuyang asked curiously. "Weren't you always in Qinghe County?"

Zhou Zhengguo's eyes darkened, and he sighed: "After the victory of the War of Resistance Against Japan, I thought I could live a peaceful life, but I didn't expect the Kuomintang army to start a civil war in the blink of an eye, conscripting men and looting food everywhere. I couldn't stay in Qinghe County anymore, so I took a few apprentices and joined the guerrillas, at least to do something practical and protect the people from being bullied."

He touched the pistol at his waist: "This gun is the one I seized when we drove off the security team. Now that you're here, the regular army is here, we can join forces to drive the enemy out and let the people truly live a good life."

He Yuyang looked into the light in his master's eyes—a hope for peace, a confidence in the future. He suddenly understood why so many people were willing to risk their lives—not for themselves, but so that the children in their hometown could study in peace, the crops in the fields could be harvested safely, and their loved ones could wait for them to come home under the lamplight.

"Master, it must be very dangerous for you to deliver intelligence, right?" He Yuyang couldn't help but ask, remembering the scars on Zhou Zhengguo's hands.

"What's dangerous?" Zhou Zhengguo waved his hand dismissively. "Compared to you fighting on the front lines, what's this? Besides, with the support of the masses, it won't be so easy for the enemy to capture me." He then changed the subject, looking at He Yuyang, "But you need to be more careful on the front lines. Fighting a war isn't just about courage; it's also about intelligence, understand?"

He Yuyang nodded emphatically: "I've got it."

The two chatted for an afternoon, from the neighbors in Qinghe County to life in the army, from their past days at the martial arts school to how to fight future battles. Zhou Zhengguo told He Yuyang all the intelligence experience he had accumulated over the years, such as how to find flaws in the enemy's deployment and how to ask the villagers for information without arousing suspicion. He explained everything in great detail and with great accuracy.

As the sun was setting, the company commander came to find Zhou Zhengguo and said that the guerrillas were going to move overnight to carry out a new mission.

"Are you leaving?" He Yuyang's heart tightened. They had just reunited and were about to part ways. He felt empty inside.

"Yes, the mission is urgent." Zhou Zhengguo stood up, dusted himself off, took a book out of his pocket, and handed it to him. "Here, take this."

It was a copy of "On Protracted War," its cover worn, clearly having been read many times. He Yuyang opened the title page, where Zhou Zhengguo's vigorous handwriting read: "Only those with both wisdom and courage can be great generals."

"Master..." He Yuyang gripped the book tightly, feeling a warm glow in his heart.

"Take it," Zhou Zhengguo said, looking at him with a gentle yet solemn gaze. "You not only need to learn how to fire a gun, but also how to lead troops and how to win battles. Don't think that being a squad leader now is enough. Your master hopes that you can become a general in the future and truly protect the people of this region."

He then pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket and stuffed it into He Yuyang's hand: "These are the insoles your mother made for you. She sewed a thousand layers of soles, saying they're comfortable to wear. And this is a painting by Zhu Zi, he said he wanted to show you his skills."

He Yuyang opened the cloth bag, revealing two pairs of blue cloth insoles with dense stitches and simple embroidered patterns. Next to them was a piece of rough scrap paper with a crooked little figure drawn on it, holding a gun, and three words written beside it: "My brother is handsome."

He clutched the cloth bag tightly in his hand, his fingertips turning white.

"Yu Yang," Zhou Zhengguo's voice deepened, "Although Li Jia'ao is safe, the enemy has been intensifying its mopping-up operations recently, and they might attack any day now. You need to win a battle quickly and drive the enemy away so that your family can truly be safe, understand?"

"I know!" He Yuyang nodded vigorously, her eyes red-rimmed. "I'll definitely win the battle quickly and go home as soon as possible!"

Zhou Zhengguo smiled, raised his hand and ruffled his hair, just like when they were kids: "Good lad, your master believes in you. Let's go, we should set off."

The guerrillas had assembled, guns on their backs, and livestock borrowed from the villagers, ready to move under cover of darkness. Captain Wang shook hands with the company commander, said "Until we meet again," and led his men into the tall, green sorghum stalks.

Zhou Zhengguo walked at the end of the group, glanced back at He Yuyang, waved, and his figure quickly disappeared into the wheat field.

He Yuyang stood under the old locust tree, clutching the book "On Protracted War" and a cloth bag in his hand, gazing in the direction of the green cornfield until he could no longer see anyone before slowly turning around.

Zhao Dayong walked over and handed him a piece of dry food: "Brother, don't be sad. You'll definitely see Master Zhou again in the future."

"Mm." He Yuyang nodded, carefully placing the book and cloth bag into her backpack, close to her chest.

He knew that reunions were fleeting, and separations were the norm. But this reunion gave him boundless strength. The safety of his family, his master's instructions, and the saying "Only those with both wisdom and courage can become great generals" had taken root in his heart like seeds.

As night deepened, the company began packing up, preparing to continue their advance according to plan. He Yuyang shouldered his rifle and walked in the ranks, his steps more steady than before.

Moonlight spilled onto the green gauze curtains, casting a silvery glow. A few barks echoed in the distance, while the footsteps and breathing of soldiers filled the air nearby. He Yuyang recalled Zhou Zhengguo's words, his parents' smiling faces, and He Yuzhu's crooked drawings; his heart swelled with renewed vigor.

He wanted to win battles quickly, to become stronger, not only brave but also wise, and to become someone who could protect everyone, just as his master had hoped.

Reunion is for a better farewell, and farewell is for a future reunion in peace and security.

He Yuyang gripped his rifle tightly, the barrel gleaming coldly in the moonlight. The road ahead might still be arduous, but he knew he wasn't fighting alone.

For his family far away, for his comrades-in-arms, and for his master's words, "I hope you become a general," this battle must be won. Once the enemy is completely driven away, he will go home, have a peaceful meal with his parents, watch Zhu Zi practice boxing, braid Yu Shui's hair, and listen to Uncle Yan calculate the cost of that braised pork.

for sure.