He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The rains of the plum rain season had been lingering for half a month. He Yuyang stood on the riverbank, watching the turbid river water lap against the reeds on the shore, the splashing water wetting his trouser legs. The river wind carried a dampness that chilled him to the bone, but a fire burned in his heart—in three days, they would be crossing the river.

"Platoon leader, the brigade headquarters just sent over a new map, take a look." The communications officer, Xiao Wu, ran over carrying an oil paper package, his trouser legs rolled up to his knees, revealing mud-covered calves. "I heard this map was obtained from enemy-occupied territory, and it's very detailed, even drawing the reed marshes along the river."

He Yuyang took the map and unfolded it on the wet riverbank. This map was much more detailed than the one they had used before, marking not only the enemy's bunkers and artillery positions, but also the locations of shallows and reefs. He traced the words "Wuhu" on the map with his fingertip; that was their landing point and also a key area of ​​enemy defense.

"This map is really timely." He Yuyang looked up at the other side of the river. In the mist, he could vaguely see the outlines of barbed wire and bunkers on the shore. "Let's get the squad leaders over here and discuss the landing route again."

What he didn't say was that he had actually obtained the map from "checking in" a few days earlier—since being promoted to platoon leader last year, he had discovered that the secret "check-in" function that had accompanied him for many years always delivered urgently needed items at crucial moments, sometimes medicine, sometimes ammunition, and this time it was such an accurate military map. He attributed this to "the organization's care" and never revealed its source to anyone.

The squad leaders quickly gathered around and squatted in a circle around the map. After Zhao Dayong's sacrifice, Sun Erzhu took over as the squad leader of the third squad. This young man was much more composed than before, but there was always a hint of dependence in his eyes when he looked at He Yuyang, just like Zhao Dayong had done back then.

"Platoon leader, look here." Sun Erzhu pointed to a reed marsh on the map. "This place is marked as having a water depth of less than two meters. If we can land here, we can bypass the enemy's main position."

He Yuyang nodded: "I think it's a good idea. But we need to send scouts to check first and make sure there are no hidden reefs or barbed wire underneath." He paused, then pointed to several small islands on the river, "These islands in the river are key. Let the second platoon take them first tomorrow, as temporary springboards for us."

He took out a pair of binoculars from his backpack and handed them to the squad leader who was closest to him: "Use this to look at the other side, especially the firing angles of those bunkers. Write them down so we can adjust our cover plan for the landing."

This binoculars, also obtained through a "check-in" process, was far clearer than the ones issued to the troops, allowing them to clearly see the changing of the guard on the opposite bank. The squad leader took it, peered across the river for a long time, and exclaimed in amazement, "This thing is really clear! It can even see the slogan on the enemy's bunker—'We swear to live and die with the river defenses,' quite a boast!"

"Big talk won't do any good." He Yuyang smiled. "Once we get there, we'll show them what real fighting is like."

For the next two days, the troops were busy preparing to cross the river. The biggest headache was the boats—most of the wooden boats had been sunk by the enemy, and the few remaining were dilapidated and insufficient for a whole brigade. The company commander, his mouth blistered with anxiety, squatted by the riverbank, sighing, "Without boats, we can't expect the brothers to swim across, can we?"

He Yuyang was also thinking about this. He knew there were many good things in the space. When he was tidying up the warehouse last time, he found more than a dozen folded rubber boats piled up in the corner. He had prepared them in advance because he was worried that it would be difficult to cross the river. They could seat five or six people when inflated. They were lightweight and sturdy.

That night, under the guise of checking the troops, he quietly went to the reeds by the river. After confirming that no one was around, he slipped into his spatial dimension, moved the dozen or so rubber boats out, hid them in the dense reeds, and covered them with dry grass. Only after doing all this did he breathe a sigh of relief—these rubber boats, while not solving all the problems, could at least allow the advance troops to land smoothly, paving the way for the main force to establish a beachhead.

At dawn on the third day, the battle to cross the Yangtze River began.

The moment the signal flare pierced the rain, artillery fire erupted from the riverbank, shells whistling across the water and landing on the bunkers on the opposite bank, exploding in bursts of light. He Yuyang, standing on a wooden boat, rifle in hand, shouted, "Squad leader, take your squad in rubber boats and break through the reeds to land! Remember, seize the high ground on the left flank to cover the main force!"

The squad leader was stunned for a moment, then reacted: "Yes!" He led his men into the reeds and soon pushed the rubber boat out. The inflated rubber boat was like a nimble fish on the river, rushing towards the opposite bank against the waves.

"You have something good here?" The company commander stood beside him, his eyes wide with amazement. "Yu Yang, where did this rubber boat come from?"

"These were captured during the battlefield cleanup, but we haven't had a chance to use them yet," He Yuyang casually made up an excuse, pointing to the increasingly close opposite bank. "Company commander, let's go too!"

The wooden boat rocked on the river, enemy shells occasionally landing nearby, sending up water columns higher than the boat. He Yuyang held onto the side of the boat, rain streaming down his hat brim, but his eyes were fixed on the opposite bank—the squad leader and his men had landed and were charging toward the high ground, raising a red flag.

"Almost there! Prepare to land!" he shouted, drawing his pistol from his waist.

As soon as the wooden boat docked, the soldiers jumped into the waist-deep river water and waded through the mud towards the shore. Enemy machine gun bullets whizzed overhead. He Yuyang, with his back bent, directed the soldiers to use the shell craters and earthen slopes for cover as they moved forward little by little.

"Second platoon, blow up that bunker!" He pointed to a bunker that was still spewing fire not far away, and Sun Erzhu immediately rushed over with a satchel charge, his movements just like Zhao Dayong's.

Watching Sun Erzhu successfully blow up the bunker, He Yuyang felt a surge of warmth in his heart. He knew that his fallen comrades were still alive, and their courage and spirit were being carried on by the living.

After fierce fighting until noon, the beachhead was finally captured. He Yuyang sat on the ruins of a collapsed bunker, took out his water bottle and took a sip. The water was cold and had a rusty taste, but he found it more thirst-quenching than anything else.

"Platoon leader, look!" Xiao Wu shouted excitedly, pointing across the river, "The main force is coming!"

He Yuyang looked up and saw the river surface densely packed with boats, rubber dinghies and wooden boats mixed together, like a moving forest. The rain had stopped sometime ago, and sunlight shone through the clouds onto the river, creating shimmering ripples.

"Let's go see what Jiangnan looks like." He stood up and patted the mud off his clothes.

The land south of the Yangtze River is completely different from that in the north. There is no dry, cracked loess, only moist black mud that feels soft underfoot, like walking on cotton. In the rice paddies by the roadside, the rice seedlings are lush and green, swaying in the wind, and in the distance, villages are hidden behind bamboo groves, their white walls and black tiles standing out brightly in the sunlight.

"This place is so beautiful." Sun Erzhu picked a lotus leaf and put it on his head. "It's like a painting."

He Yuyang also found it novel. He grew up in the north and was used to plains and loess slopes. This was the first time he had seen such a water town. Rivers spread across the fields like spider webs, small bridges spanned the rivers, and women were washing clothes by the river. The sound of wooden mallets hitting the stone slabs was loud and clear, exuding a sense of peaceful and down-to-earth life.

When they passed through a small village, the villagers were initially very scared and hid in their houses, afraid to come out. Later, seeing that the soldiers not only did not loot anything but also helped repair the roofs damaged by the shells, they gradually calmed down. An old woman brought out hot tea, and children curiously followed the troops.

"Comrades, where are you going?" asked an old farmer wearing a straw hat, leading an ox.

"Head south, liberate all of China," He Yuyang replied with a smile.

The old farmer grinned, revealing his toothless gums: "Good! Good! I've been waiting for you to come! Those Kuomintang soldiers, all they do is rob grain and conscript men, they've really made our lives miserable!"

He Yuyang felt a warmth in his heart. He remembered the letter he received before he left home. In it, his mother said, "When the world is at peace, I'll cultivate two acres of land for you, and then I'll ask someone to find you a wife. We'll have a big, healthy son, and your father will teach him to read, and your brother will teach him martial arts..."

At that time, he thought his mother was thinking too far ahead, but now, standing on the land of Jiangnan, looking at the rice fields and villages in front of him, he suddenly felt that his mother's wish was actually very close - as long as they take one more step forward and win a few more battles, such a day will come.

That night, while camping, He Yuyang sat on a rock by the river, watching the moon's reflection in the water. Sun Erzhu came over and handed him a roasted sweet potato: "Platoon leader, what are you thinking about? You're smiling like you've stolen candy."

"It's nothing." He Yuyang took the sweet potato, took a bite, and felt the sweet warmth flow from her throat to her heart. "I just feel like we'll be able to go home soon."

"Go home?" Sun Erzhu's eyes lit up. "Yes, once we're liberated, we can go home! My wife might have already given birth to our baby..."

Both of them laughed, their laughter carrying far in the quiet night. In the distance, soldiers sang around a campfire, their songs filled with longing for their homes, anticipation of victory, and dreams for the future.

He Yuyang gazed at the southern night sky, where the stars were brighter than those in the north. He knew that there were still many tough battles to fight and many difficulties to overcome, but he was no longer as anxious as before—because he could see hope, just as he could see the rising dawn across the river.

Advancing into Jiangnan was not merely a geographical leap, but a step towards peace and tranquility. He touched the letter from home in his pocket; the paper was damp with sweat and slightly soft, but his mother's handwriting remained clear.

"Soon," he said to himself, and also to his family far away, "Just wait a little longer, I'll be home soon."

The night wind rustled through the rice paddies, as if echoing his words. The moon's reflection swayed gently on the river, illuminating the young faces of the soldiers on the bank, and also the approaching, brand-new dawn.