Courtyard House: From Deputy Division Commander to Civilian, Progressing All the Way

This was a psychological war fueled by poison, the most vicious killing weapon of that crazy era.

Under the endless criticism, endless physical torture, and endless mental breakdown, many comrades who had fought side by side on the battlefield, and many superiors and subordinates who had stayed up all night studying blueprints, ultimately could not withstand it and turned into beasts tearing each other apart.

The more fiercely they bite, the more "thoroughly" they expose, the closer they seem to be to the "revolutionary ranks," and the more they seem to be able to crawl out of hell and catch their breath.

In the cowshed in the basement of the Ministry of Heavy Industry, the air was so foul it was nauseating, a mixture of musty, bloody, and sour smells of sweat.

The bloodstains on the walls had long since turned black, and several broken belts and handcuffs with missing teeth lay in the corner, silently telling the story of the atrocities that had once taken place here.

A dim 15-watt light bulb hung overhead, its light flickering, casting Wu Qiang's shadow long and thin, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.

He held a stack of blank letter paper and a fountain pen in his hand, and slowly walked up to Zhao Lichun with a fake and smug smile on his face.

Zhao Lichun was tied to a cold iron chair, his face bruised and swollen, with blood still dripping from the corner of his mouth. His faded Zhongshan suit was torn to shreds, and his exposed skin was covered with crisscrossing whip marks.

But his back remained ramrod straight, and his eyes, as cold as ice, were fixed on Wu Qiang.

"Secretary Zhao, have you thought it through?"

Wu Qiang leaned down and gently poked Zhao Lichun's chest with the nib of his pen, his tone full of seduction, "I know you're Lin Yang's confidant; he doesn't hide anything from you. As long as you write down all his 'crimes' over the years—like how he embezzled state resources, how he suppressed revolutionary masses, how he colluded with foreign forces—I guarantee I'll not only forgive him for his past actions, but I'll also immediately make you the Vice Minister of Heavy Industry. You're only in your twenties, with a bright future ahead of you. Why waste your entire life on a capitalist roader who's about to collapse?"

Wu Qiang was all too aware of Zhao Lichun's value.

He was promoted by Lin Yang and was Lin Yang's most trusted right-hand man.

If Zhao Lichun were willing to speak up and expose Lin Yang, even if it was a fabricated charge, it would be enough to sentence Lin Yang to death.

At that time, he, the hero who "exposed the big spy," would naturally be appointed as the Minister of Heavy Industry. Thinking of this, Wu Qiang's eyes burned even brighter.

Zhao Lichun looked at the few blank sheets of paper on the table and suddenly chuckled softly.

The hoarse, dry laughter echoed eerily in the dark, empty basement, sending chills down Wu Qiang's spine.

He slowly straightened up, ignoring the excruciating pain from the wound on his face being pulled open, and met Wu Qiang's gaze, saying each word clearly: "Make me bite Minister Lin? Wu Qiang, is your brain filled with shit?"

"What do you think you're doing? Do you think that by putting up a few nonsensical big-character posters and arresting a few innocent people for public criticism, you can bring down a founding general who conquered half the country and led tens of thousands of workers to build the atomic bomb in the Gobi Desert?!"

Zhao Lichun's voice grew louder and louder, carrying a hysterical frenzy and an undeniable contempt. "You bunch of cowards who only know how to hide in the gutter and stab people in the back, you're not even worthy to carry Minister Lin's shoes! Although I, Zhao Lichun, am a poor student with no background or connections, it was Minister Lin who brought me out of the mountains. He taught me how to do things and how to be a person. Even if I rot in this basement, even if you beat me to death, I would never betray the leader by a single word!"

Zhao Lichun spoke from the heart, but it was not just what he felt.

He was gambling, gambling a high-stakes gamble that would affect his own life and the fate of the nation.

He knew better than anyone how terrifying Lin Yang's military background was. It was a formidable reputation earned on the battlefield of the Korean War, an absolute power holding the atomic bomb launch codes, and a pillar of the nation that even the highest levels of government had to be wary of.

No matter how fierce this storm is, it cannot truly destroy Lin Yang. As long as Lin Yang lives, and as long as this absurd farce is over, every drop of blood he sheds here today, every beating he takes, and every word he keeps will become the most powerful capital for Lin Yang to grant him unlimited power in the future.

Conversely, if he were to write those defamatory words today in order to survive, he would not only be condemned as a traitor for seeking personal gain, but once Lin Yang turns the tables, Zhao Lichun would definitely die without a burial place, and his family would also be implicated.

He had calculated this matter very clearly.

Moreover, having followed Lin Yang for the past six months, he had personally witnessed how this man had devoted himself to the country's heavy industry.

For the sake of the construction of the Third Front, Lin Yang did not go home for three months and only slept three hours a day;

In order to secure food rations for the workers at the base, Lin Yang slammed his fist on the table in front of the Premier.

In order to retain those veteran technicians, Lin Yang, under immense pressure, transferred them one by one to a secret factory in the Northwest.

If people like this are all considered "traitors," then what in this world is still worth believing in?

"Fine! Fine, Zhao Lichun!"

Wu Qiang's face instantly turned a deep purplish-red. He hadn't expected this seemingly frail scholar to be so stubborn. "I see you're refusing to listen to reason! Beat him! Beat him to death! I want to see if your bones are harder, or my belt!"

Two burly rebels immediately rushed forward, swung their leather belts, and lashed out at Zhao Lichun.

"Snap! Snap! Snap!" The sound of belts whipping flesh echoed in the basement, sending chills down one's spine.

Zhao Lichun clenched his teeth so tightly that his lips bled, but he didn't let out a single scream of begging for mercy.

With each blow, his gaze hardened.

He sneered inwardly. He knew that from the moment he uttered those words, his life was completely welded to Lin Yang, this unsinkable warship.

He believed that one day, the sun would shine into the basement again, and those arrogant clowns who flaunted their power today would be nailed to the pillar of historical shame.

Meanwhile, at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang, a courtyard house.

The once tranquil alleyway was now filled with an atmosphere of restlessness.

In the distance, the faint sounds of rebel slogans and the cracking of things being smashed could be heard, weighing heavily on everyone's hearts.

"Bang!"

The courtyard gate was suddenly flung open, and He Yuzhu, wearing a tattered vest stained with mud and blood, limped in.

His left cheek was swollen high, like a steamed bun, and there was a deep, bone-revealing scratch on his forehead.