He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

On a sweltering afternoon in late summer, the sun blazed down on the stone-paved road. He Yuyang stood under an old locust tree outside the ancient town, gazing at the sprawling cluster of buildings with their blue-tiled roofs, his brow furrowed in worry.

The ancient town is called "Wangyue Town," which is said to be the last stronghold of the remnants of the enemy forces. Intelligence indicates that a battalion of soldiers is entrenched here, led by a battalion commander named Qian Biao, who is said to have had some backbone during the War of Resistance against Japan, but has now become a die-hard who is stubbornly resisting.

"Platoon leader, this town looks so quiet, it doesn't seem like there's an ambush." ​​Sun Erzhu held up his binoculars, the lenses reflecting a blinding light. "Look at that archway, there isn't even a sentry. Could it be that the enemy has already fled?"

He Yuyang didn't speak, but took out a handkerchief from his backpack and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He felt something was wrong—logically speaking, if the enemy wanted to defend, they wouldn't be so lax. The stone archway at the entrance of the town stood there all alone, a few fallen leaves drifted at the entrances of the alleys on both sides, and there wasn't even a dog in sight; it was as quiet as a ghost town.

"Something's not right," he said in a low voice. "Have the troops stop and wait in place."

The company commander caught up from behind, holding a water bottle: "Yu Yang, why did you stop? The brigade headquarters is urging us to take the town before dark, so the enemy can't escape."

"Company Commander, don't you think it's too quiet?" He Yuyang pointed to the depths of the ancient town. "This is the time when people are cooking, there should be smoke rising from the chimneys, but look, there's not even a wisp of smoke."

The company commander looked in the direction he was pointing, and sure enough, the rooftops of the entire ancient town were bare; there was no smoke from chimneys, and most of the windows were closed, exuding a deathly stillness. "You mean…"

"There might be a trap." He Yuyang's gaze swept across the stone-paved road at the entrance of the town. "Qian Biao is a local and knows this town very well. He might have set a trap."

He hesitated for a moment, then said to the company commander, "I'll take two men in to scout ahead. You guys wait outside. Don't come in without my signal."

"I'll go with you!" Sun Erzhu immediately stepped forward, gripping his rifle tightly.

He Yuyang nodded, then pointed to an old soldier named Li Gensheng—Li Gensheng was a local, familiar with the dialect, and calm in the face of trouble. The three changed into coarse cloth clothes like ordinary people, hid their guns in straw baskets, and pretended to be going to a market, slowly walking towards the stone archway.

As soon as he stepped through the archway, a faint smell of kerosene wafted over. He Yuyang paused, then discreetly ground his foot into the cracks between the stone slabs. Sure enough, he felt some granular substances, and when he brought them to his nose, he recognized the smell as saltpeter.

"Go to the left," he whispered to the two of them in dialect, his eyes scanning the base of the wall at the entrance of the alley on the right—the soil there showed signs of being disturbed, as if something had just been buried there.

Li Gensheng understood immediately and deliberately walked towards the general store on the left, calling out, "Boss, do you have soy sauce?"

The shop door creaked open a crack, and a head peeked out, eyeing them warily. "It's all gone, sold out ages ago," the head said, before slamming the door shut.

Sun Erzhu lowered his voice: "Platoon leader, there's something wrong with this shop!"

"Okay." He Yuyang nodded, glancing out of the corner of his eye at a metallic glint behind the door. "Keep going forward, and watch out for the corners and seams in the stone slabs."

The three pretended to stroll around, slowly making their way down the main street of the ancient town. The further they went, the stronger the smell of kerosene became, especially at several intersections, where the saltpeter particles in the cracks of the stone slabs were more clearly visible. He Yuyang even saw half a fuse sticking out from under the threshold of a pharmacy, secured by a thin wire, leading to an alley across the street.

"It's full of explosives." His heart skipped a beat, and cold sweat instantly broke out on his back. "They've turned this town into a powder keg."

When they reached the stage in the center of town, they finally saw several enemy soldiers squatting under the stage smoking, each with grenades tucked into their waistbands, their eyes occasionally glancing towards the town entrance.

"Did you hear that? Battalion Commander Qian said that as soon as the Communist army comes in, we'll bomb this lousy town to the ground and make sure they never come back!" A soldier's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached He Yuyang's ears.

"What will we do if we get bombed flat?" another soldier asked.

"Idiot! We've already dug tunnels. After we blow it up, we'll escape through the tunnels and go into the mountains to fight as guerrillas!"

He Yuyang exchanged a glance, and all three of them saw fear in each other's eyes. He quietly nudged Sun Erzhu's arm, signaling him to retreat—if they stayed any longer, they might be exposed.

As they left the ancient town, the sun was already setting. He Yuyang recounted what he had discovered, and the company commander was shocked: "Has Qian Biao gone mad? He's willing to blow up the whole town just to escape?"

"He's desperate." He Yuyang looked in the direction of the ancient town. "We have to get the explosives out, otherwise, let alone take the town, if the people come back, something terrible will happen."

What can we do? We can't force our way in; the enemy has detonators, and they might detonate them as soon as they spot them.

He Yuyang squatted on the ground, drawing a map of the ancient town on the mud with a twig, when suddenly his eyes lit up: "I have a way."

That night, under a dark and windy sky, He Yuyang used the cover of darkness to sneak into the ancient town once again. This time, he went alone—he was going to use his spatial abilities.

The town was quiet, with only a few sentries dozing. He Yuyang held his breath and moved along the wall like a night owl. He first crept to the stage in the center of town and sure enough, he saw more than a dozen wooden crates piled up there, with the word "ammunition" printed on them. When he opened them, he found that they were all explosive packs, with fuses connected to a thin wire leading to the backstage of the stage.

He took a deep breath, concentrated, and with a thought, the dozen or so wooden crates vanished into thin air—they were all stored in the empty warehouse of his spatial dimension. The warehouse was quite large; it could easily hold dozens more crates, let alone just those.

Then, he walked back along the main street, collecting any explosives he saw hidden in corners, cracks in the stone slabs, or fuses buried underground into his spatial storage. This task took a lot of his time, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. It wasn't until dawn that he had completely moved all the explosives he had discovered.

Upon returning to camp, Sun Erzhu quickly handed him a bowl of hot porridge: "Platoon Leader, you're finally back! How was it?"

"It's all cleaned up." He Yuyang took a sip of porridge, the warmth dispelling some of her fatigue. "But don't make a fuss, let's put on a show for them."

The next morning, He Yuyang had a squad of soldiers act as the vanguard, marching ostentatiously towards the ancient town. He himself led the main force, lying in ambush in the woods outside the town, holding binoculars and keeping a close watch on the stone archway.

Sure enough, not long after, Qian Biao's roar echoed through the ancient town: "The Communist army is in! Detonate! Detonate it now!"

Immediately afterwards, there was a "click" sound—that was the sound of the detonator.

The anticipated earth-shattering explosion did not occur; the ancient town remained standing quietly, without even a single tile falling.

"What happened?!" Qian Biao's roar echoed through the town. "Why didn't it explode?! Did you mess up the explosives you used?"

"That's impossible, Battalion Commander! These are all newly issued explosives, and the fuses have been checked..."

He Yuyang smiled – he had already cut the wire connecting the detonator when he took away the explosives, so even if Qian Biao smashed the detonator, it wouldn't explode.

About fifteen minutes later, several heads peeked out from behind the stone archway of the ancient town, cautiously looking outside. Seeing that there really had been no explosion, Qian Biao personally led several soldiers out, cursing and swearing as they inspected the fuse.

"Damn it, they're all duds!" Qian Biao kicked over an empty explosives box. "Useless! A bunch of useless trash!"

He probably thought the Communist army was unprepared, or perhaps he was unwilling to accept that his plan had failed, so he ordered: "Everyone come out! Lure the Communist army into the town, and we'll deal with them in street fighting!"

So, the enemy soldiers who had been hiding in the shadows swaggered out of the ancient town and fired provocatively in the direction where He Yuyang and his men were lying in ambush: "You cowardly Communist soldiers! Don't you dare come in?"

"Platoon leader, they've taken the bait!" Sun Erzhu gripped his gun excitedly.

He Yuyang lowered his binoculars and ordered in a low voice, "Proceed according to plan. First and second platoons, flank from the left and right sides and block all exits of the ancient town; third platoon, follow me and advance from the front, driving them into the town!"

The moment the signal flare went off, the soldiers who had been lying in ambush in the woods rushed out. Caught off guard, the enemy was thrown into disarray and hastily retreated into the ancient town. Qian Biao, thinking he could rely on his familiarity with the terrain to fight in the streets, led his men toward the town center.

But he hadn't anticipated that He Yuyang had already sent men to scout every alley in the ancient town. The soldiers divided into groups, blocking one intersection after another, shouting, "Surrender and you're safe!" "You're surrounded!"

Qian Biao led his men around the alleys, only to find People's Liberation Army soldiers everywhere they went. Panic ensued: "What's going on? How come they know this town better than we do?"

Actually, it wasn't that they were familiar with each other; it was that He Yuyang had memorized the town's map during his reconnaissance last night and divided the area into zones for each squad in advance to ensure that every corner was covered by troops.

The battle didn't last long. When He Yuyang and his men blocked the last alley, Qian Biao and his remaining troops were huddled in a small courtyard, their guns still in their hands, their faces filled with despair.

"Qian Biao, stop resisting." He Yuyang stood at the gate of the courtyard, his voice calm. "Your explosives didn't detonate, and we've found your tunnel. Surrender now, and we might get you some leniency."

Qian Biao looked at the dark gun barrels outside the courtyard wall, then at the trembling soldiers beside him, and finally threw his gun on the ground, squatted down, and covered his head: "I...I surrender."

Upon seeing this, the soldiers also laid down their weapons.

He Yuyang ordered the prisoners to be taken away, while he himself walked into the depths of the ancient town. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting dappled shadows on the stone-paved road. He walked to the stage where the most explosives had been hidden before, and touched the pillars of the stage—they were still warm, as if they had just passed through the gates of hell.

Just then, footsteps were heard in the alley. Several brave villagers peeked out and saw that it was the People's Liberation Army soldiers. Seeing that there was no blood on the ground, they dared to come out.

"Comrade...this town...wasn't bombed?" an old man with white hair asked tremblingly, still clutching a cloth bag in his hand, probably having just returned from his hiding place.

"Don't worry, sir, we've cleared away all the explosives," He Yuyang said with a smile. "The enemy has surrendered, and this town is safe now."

The old man paused, then suddenly bowed to He Yuyang, saying, "May the Bodhisattva protect us... Thank you so much! Thank you, People's Liberation Army!"

Soon, more and more people returned to the town. When they learned that the People's Liberation Army had not only prevented the ancient town from being bombed, but had also captured all the enemies alive, they were so excited that they surrounded the soldiers. Some brought hot water, some brought dry rations, and they surrounded the soldiers, expressing their gratitude.

Standing in the crowd, He Yuyang felt a warmth in his heart as he looked at the smiles on the faces of the people. He recalled the exhaustion he felt the night before while moving the explosives, and the tension he felt while formulating the plan. He felt it was all worth it.

In the evening, the brigade's commendation arrived, praising them for "liberating Wangyue Town at minimal cost and protecting the lives and property of the people." The company commander patted He Yuyang on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear: "Yuyang, your mind is getting sharper and sharper! You took down an entire battalion without losing a single soldier—impressive!"

He Yuyang simply smiled. He walked to the old locust tree at the entrance of town, gazing at the sky dyed red by the setting sun. In the distance came the sounds of soldiers and civilians laughing and talking, interspersed with the playful shouts of children, full of vitality.

He knew this might be one of the last few tough battles of the war. The enemy's resistance was becoming increasingly feeble, and the dawn of victory was just around the corner. He touched the letter from home in his arms, remembered his mother's words, "Go home and farm," and his steps became lighter.

Smoke finally rose from the green tiles of the ancient town, dispersing in the twilight like a light ink landscape painting. He Yuyang took a deep breath; the air was filled with the aroma of food—the scent of peace.

Their final resistance will ultimately be crushed under the wheels of history. And the land they protected, and the people on it, will finally find true peace.