Courtyard House: Ten-year-old Master Zhu reorganizes the entire courtyard

The heavy rain stopped in the early hours of the morning.

The air was thick with the smell of earth and decaying leaves. On the watchtower of Huayuan Camp, Qi Tongwei held a cup of now-cold coffee, his eyes bloodshot.

He hasn't slept for two days.

On the hillsides surrounding the camp, figures wielding shovels and pickaxes could be seen everywhere. The usually lazy tribal militiamen were now frantically digging trenches and bunkers like worker ants.

Fear is the best supervisor.

"Here we are." Vic climbed up the watchtower with his tablet.

"What's here?" Qi Tongwei put down his coffee cup.

"Taken by a drone." Vic handed over the tablet. "The forward operating base of M23."

The footage is a bit shaky; it's real-time video transmitted by the drone while it's flying high in the wind.

On a temporarily cleared area, two black helicopters slowly landed. The gusts of wind whipped up by their rotors made the surrounding tents rattle loudly.

The hatch opened.

The first to jump down were several fully armed bodyguards. Dressed in matching black combat uniforms, they moved swiftly and took up their positions around the perimeter.

Then, a man in a white suit came down.

On this muddy, dirty battlefield filled with the aura of death, the white suit seemed out of place, yet it carried an eerie sense of oppression.

He wasn't wearing a hat, and his silver-white hair fluttered slightly in the wind. Even through the screen, Qi Tongwei could feel the overwhelming arrogance emanating from him.

"Arthur Cole," Qi Tongwei read the name aloud, "'Priest'."

"He actually came in person." Vic's voice was a little tense. "Usually, commanders of this rank would just sit in an air-conditioned room in Kinshasa drinking champagne."

"It means he's panicking." Qi Tongwei stared at the white dot on the screen. "Or rather, he's too confident. He wants to see with his own eyes how we die."

On the screen, a burly man in camouflage stepped forward. That was "The Gravedigger," the commander of this PMC unit. He gave "The Priest" a respectful salute, then pointed to a map in the distance and said something.

The "priest" nodded, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and gently wiped his mouth, which was not actually dusty. Then, he looked up, seemingly glancing in the direction of the drone.

Although they were thousands of meters in the air, Qi Tongwei felt as if that gaze had pierced through the screen and was directly hitting him.

"That old bastard," Qi Tongwei sneered, "is quite astute."

Just then, Kasonga's hoarse voice came through the walkie-talkie.

"Boss, I'm back."

Qi Tongwei's spirits lifted: "Where are we?"

"South Gate." Kasonga's voice was weary, but couldn't hide his excitement. "The goods are all there. Also... I brought back two 'teachers'."

"teacher?"

"The technical advisor sent by Irina. She said she'd teach us how to use those big machines."

Qi Tongwei and Victor exchanged a glance.

"Let's go." Qi Tongwei turned and descended the tower. "Let's go see our new toy."

Inside the warehouse at the south gate of the camp, two mud-covered trucks were parked in the middle. The tarpaulins on the truck beds were lifted, revealing several long, dark green wooden crates.

Kasonga was directing the unloading of goods. He was covered in mud and his eyes were bloodshot, clearly indicating that the journey had not been peaceful.

Two white men were standing to the side smoking. They were wearing unmarked training uniforms and simply nodded slightly when Qi Tongwei entered.

"This is the 'Cornet'," one of the bearded Russians said in broken English, kicking a box at his feet. "As long as your men aren't blind, nothing can stop it within five kilometers."

Vic stepped forward and skillfully pried open a wooden crate.

Inside lay a dark green missile launcher, exuding the cold, metallic scent of gun oil.

"This is good stuff." Vic ran his finger along the launch tube. "Laser beam-riding guidance, tandem warhead. With this, those M23 armored vehicles are sitting ducks."

"And this too." The bearded man pointed to another box. "Igla-S portable anti-aircraft missile. It's not the latest model, but it's enough to take down helicopters."

Qi Tongwei looked at the weapons. He seemed to see the burning wreckage on the battlefield a few days later.

"I only have three days." Qi Tongwei looked at the two Russian advisors. "I need you to teach my men how to use them. They don't need to be experts, just able to fire and hit their targets."

"Three days?" the bearded man laughed. "That's high-tech..."

"I'll give you ten thousand US dollars for every group of shooters you teach," Qi Tongwei interrupted him. "Cash."

The bearded man paused for a moment, then threw away his cigarette butt and stomped it out.

"Deal." He rolled up his sleeves. "Call your smartest people. Let's begin."

Night fell again.

There were no lights in the camp, only the occasional beam of a flashlight in the distance.

Qi Tongwei stood on the high slope, gazing north. That was the direction of the M23 base.

The air seemed to be thick with the smell of gunpowder.

Patrice walked over to him and handed him a bottle of beer.

"Are you scared?" Patrice asked.

"I'm scared." Qi Tongwei took the beer, took a sip, and said, "I'm scared to death."

"I'm scared too." Patrice looked at the dark jungle in the distance. "In the past, we fought to seize territory and women. If we lost, we could run away and survive somewhere else. But this time is different."

"It's different." Qi Tongwei turned his head and looked at the once brutal warlord. "This time it's for dignity. To prove that we are not dust that can be wiped off the chessboard at any time."

In the distance, on the horizon, a muffled rumble of thunder could be faintly heard.

No, that wasn't thunder.

That was the sound of a helicopter rotor churning the air.

Qi Tongwei drank the beer in the bottle in one gulp, then threw it forcefully into the valley.

The sound of shattering glass was particularly crisp in the night.

"They're here."

Qi Tongwei pulled the bolt.

"Prepare for battle."

In the east, the first rays of dawn pierced the darkness. And in that golden-red light, several black dots were skimming along the treetops, rushing towards them.

Those were the pioneers of the "Pathfinders".

This was also the prelude to the war.