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

The jeep sped through the rainy night, its tires crunching over puddles on the winding Yuquanshan mountain road, splashing water half a meter high.

The three fully armed checkpoints along the way, upon seeing the red star symbolizing special authority in front of the license plate,

They didn't even stop the car; they just stood at attention, saluted, and pulled away the toilet that was blocking the car.

The convoy eventually stopped at the entrance to an underground command post hidden deep in a dense pine forest.

This is the military's highest-level top-secret bunker in the western suburbs of Beijing. The reinforced concrete walls, up to one meter thick, are strong enough to withstand a direct hit from a heavy bomb.

The No. 1 Operations Conference Room is located on the third basement level.

The main lights weren't on in the room; only a few table lamps with green shades cast a dim, yellowish glow. The exhaust fan hummed, but it couldn't remove the strong, acrid smell of smoke that filled the room.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it felt like you could wring water out of it.

Li Yunlong paced back and forth around the conference table like a caged beast, his military boots creaking on the terrazzo floor. He had a half-burnt Daqianmen cigarette dangling from his mouth, and his brows were furrowed in a deep knot.

Zhao Gang sat in the chair, silently drinking water from a rough porcelain teacup, his eyes deep and worried.

A cot in the corner of the conference room.

Zhao Lichun had already woken up and was sitting there shirtless.

A military doctor in a white coat was using tweezers to clean the deep, bone-revealing cut on his forehead.

"Secretary Zhao, this cut is too deep, it will require seven stitches. The conditions here are rudimentary, and we're out of local anesthetic, so please bear with it." The old military doctor held the curved needle and glanced at the young man wearing tattered gold-rimmed glasses.

"It's okay, just sew it on. I can still handle it." Zhao Lichun's voice was soft, but it carried a chilling ruthlessness.

The curved needle pierced the flesh with a slight, teeth-grinding sound.

Zhao Lichun gripped the iron frame of the cot tightly with both hands, the veins on the back of his hands bulging. Large beads of sweat rolled down his pale cheeks, but he stubbornly clenched his teeth and didn't utter a sound.

Lin Yang sat at the head of the conference table, toying with a brass lighter in his hand. He subtly observed Zhao Lichun's reaction.

He's a wolf cub. He can be so ruthless to himself; if managed properly, he's an absolutely invincible blade.

"Damn it! The more I think about it, the more pathetic I feel!"

Li Yunlong slammed the cigarette butt on the ground, crushed it with his leather shoe, and slammed his hand on the oak conference table, causing the water in the teacup to splash out.

"Yangzi, tell me, what kind of mess is this? We crawled out of piles of corpses back then, for what? To make the people live a better life! And now?"

Li Yunlong pointed upwards and cursed, "The outside is in complete chaos! When I came here, I passed Qianmen Street, and good heavens, a bunch of teenagers, wearing green military uniforms and red armbands, were whipping people with belts! Even the police don't dare to do anything about it!"

"Those old comrades who fought the Japanese and Chiang Kai-shek and were wounded, some were paraded through the streets with placards hanging around their necks, some were locked up in cowsheds! What is Wu Qiang? A piece of trash in charge of logistics, and he dares to point his finger at you, Lin Yang, and call you a traitor? If I didn't shoot him in the auditorium today, it's a good thing my temper has improved these past few years!"

Faced with Li Yunlong's agitation, Lin Yang did not rush to calm him down.

He took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and took a deep drag. The pale blue smoke blurred his cold, handsome face.

"Old Li, you need to tone down your temper. If you really fire today..."

"Then we'll all fall into the enemy's trap." Lin Yang's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a reassuring power.

Zhao Gang put down his teacup and sighed, "Old Li, Yangzi is right. Haven't you figured out the current situation? This is no longer just a few people or a few rebels messing around. This is a huge storm from top to bottom."

Zhao Gang stood up, walked to the map, and pointed to the map of the whole country.

"It's August 1966 now. Only two months have passed since that big-character poster targeting Yoko was put up, and the winds of change have completely shifted."

"The Great Cultural Revolution has begun. Red Guards from all over the country are pouring into Beijing. More than half of the leadership teams in various ministries have been paralyzed. The rebels seizing power has become the norm. This torrent cannot be stopped by a few of us with guns. If you shoot and kill one Wu Qiang, tomorrow ten thousand Wu Qiangs will rush into Yuquan Mountain!"

Li Yunlong irritably unbuttoned his top button: "So we're just going to stand by and watch? Watch these bastards smash the little bit of wealth the country has worked so hard to build up to nothing?"

"Of course we can't just stand by and watch."

Lin Yang finally spoke. He flicked the ash into the copper ashtray, his gaze sharpening like that of a hawk.

"Chaos is the outward appearance. But on the bottom line of heavy industry and national defense security, we cannot back down even a step."

Lin Yang turned to Chen Feng, who was standing to the side in charge of security: "Chen Feng, report on the damage data of heavy industry across the country over the past two weeks."

Chen Feng opened the top-secret folder in his hand, his voice tinged with sorrow.

"Sir, the situation is extremely bad. In several large heavy machinery factories in Northeast China, rebels stormed into the workshops and destroyed three high-precision imported lathes, causing the production line for the new tank armor plates to come to a complete stop. Three blast furnaces at Ansteel almost experienced solidification accidents because they were left unattended and unloaded."

"There are also several chemical plants in East China. Because the rebels were denouncing the chief engineer, no one was reviewing the technical parameters. Yesterday, an explosion occurred, killing and injuring more than 30 people."

Hearing these blood-soaked statistics, Li Yunlong's eyes turned red, and his teeth clenched so tightly they rattled.

Lin Yang's expression remained cold, but the rhythm of his tapping on the table betrayed the murderous intent in his heart.

These industrial foundations were built penny by penny by him and countless researchers and workers over the past decade or so. They were the backbone of the nation, forged with blood and sweat amidst the dire circumstances of Soviet withdrawal of investment and American blockade.

Now, however, it is being trampled on by a group of fanatical and ignorant people.

"This is the price," Lin Yang said coldly. "But as the saying goes, 'the sky will rain, and a mother will remarry.' Since some storms are unavoidable, we must learn how to preserve the embers in the storm."

Lin Yang stood up, walked to the national map, and pointed heavily at a large area of ​​towering mountains in the southwest.

"The Third Front Construction".

Lin Yang uttered five words.

"This was a strategy set by the Central Committee to move industry inland in order to guard against the threat of war from the US and the Soviet Union. Now, this strategy is our best protective umbrella."

Lin Yang turned around, looked at everyone, and began to deploy his massive plan to cut off his tail and survive.