Courtyard Houses: Starting with Li Yunlong's Comrades-in-Arms

The train departed from Quancheng at around 3 PM. It had mostly hard seats, with only a few sleeper carriages reserved for high-ranking officials and military dependents. Liu Yuheng, holding the pass issued by the Military Control Commission, boarded the sleeper carriage with Xiao Sun. Finding his berth, he unbuckled his belt and hung it on his coat hook, then collapsed onto his berth, letting out a long sigh.

Xiao Sun diligently put away his military cap and satchel, filled his military water bottle with boiling water, and placed it on the small table next to his bunk before sitting down on the lower bunk opposite him.

The train clattered along, and the scenery outside the window began to slowly recede. Liu Yuheng stared at the dim yellow light bulb on the ceiling for a while, then closed his eyes.

The carriage was quiet, except for the rhythmic sound of the train wheels rolling on the rails, and the occasional voices and coughs from other carriages, all separated by several doors.

Liu Yuheng closed his eyes, but he couldn't fall asleep no matter what.

The closer he got to the capital, the stronger that indescribable feeling in his heart became.

He felt apprehensive as he approached his hometown. He mentally diagnosed himself with this feeling.

Then he couldn't help but chuckle, a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, tinged with self-deprecation. If that old fox Li Yunlong knew he was like this, wouldn't he laugh himself to death? A dignified column commander, leading 40,000 men, and he's nervous just going home? Who would believe that?

Liu Yuheng opened his eyes and looked out the car window at the fields and villages rushing past.

When did he arrive? What year was that?

Liu Yuheng closed his eyes, and those memories, like old photos buried at the bottom of a box, were pulled out one by one, some still clear, some already blurred.

He remembered 1933 very clearly. He was eight years old that year, or rather, he "became" eight years old that year. The original Liu Dagang, nicknamed Dagou, was a child from a poor family in the southern part of Beijing. His father was a cook, his mother stayed at home sewing and mending, and he had a four-year-old brother named Liu Erhe, nicknamed Ergou.

That winter, Liu Dagang developed a high fever. His parents thought he was going to die and had even asked someone to inquire about the price of a thin-skinned coffin at a coffin shop. But on the morning of the fourth day, the child woke up, his fever had subsided, and he was lively and energetic, just like nothing had happened.

But only Liu Yuheng himself knew that the person who woke up was no longer the original Liu Dagang.

He remembered his name from his past life, remembered being a college student, remembered the smell of instant noodles in his dorm and the sound of the air conditioner in the library, remembered the various apps on his phone screen and the endless stream of short videos. Those memories were so vivid, as if they had happened just yesterday, yet so distant, as if they were from a past life—no, they were from a past life. Then he developed a high fever, and then he found himself lying in a low, damp bungalow in the southern part of Beijing in 1933, transformed into an eight-year-old child, a child named Liu Dagang.

It took him several months to accept this fact. A 21st-century college student suddenly becoming a poor child in a slum in Beijing during the Republic of China era was a huge leap that was hard to digest in a short time.

But life goes on, and food still needs to be eaten. His father, Liu Shuanzhu, worked as a cook in a restaurant, earning very little each month. His mother, Wang Xiuhe, stayed home washing and mending clothes, earning a few copper coins to supplement the family income. His younger brother, Liu Erhe, was only four years old and ran around the alley all day with his bottom naked, as dirty as a little mudfish.

Back then, the streets of Beijing were filled with rickshaws and trams, and people wore long robes, mandarin jackets, and cheongsams, speaking with a strong Beijing accent. It took Liu Yuheng a long time to learn to live in the language and way of that era.

The real turning point came in 1935.

He was ten years old that year. That winter, the famous "December 9th Movement" broke out in Beiping. Students flooded the streets, shouting slogans such as "Stop the civil war and unite to resist Japan" and "Oppose the autonomy of North China." Liu Yuheng also participated in the march.

It was around that time that he met Zhao Gang.

Zhao Gang was a few years older than him and was a student at Yenching University. At that time, the group was scattered by the police, and Liu Yuheng was squeezed into an alley by the roadside. Zhao Gang grabbed him and pulled him to a safe place.

"Young man, which school are you from?" Zhao Gang patted the dirt off his clothes.

"Nancheng Elementary School," Liu Yuheng said, panting.

"He's only a teenager, right? Does his family know he ran away from home?"

Liu Yuheng was stunned for a moment; of course, his family didn't know.

"I know," he said finally.

If his father had known he was participating in a street protest, he would have broken his legs.

Liu Shuanzhu was an honest man whose greatest wish was to live a peaceful life, without causing trouble or creating problems.

Zhao Gang glanced at him, but didn't ask any more questions. He simply said, "Let's go, stay close to me."

From then on, Liu Yuheng became acquainted with Zhao Gang. Zhao Gang later took him to several student rallies and taught him many principles.

In 1937, when the gunfire erupted at Lugou Bridge, Liu Yuheng was having breakfast at home. His father, Liu Shuanzhu, was busy at the stove, and his mother was dressing his younger brother, Liu Erhe. Suddenly, a burst of gunfire came from outside, followed by the booming sound of artillery, which shook the roof beams and caused dust to fall in a flurry.

"They're fighting again?" Liu Shuanzhu dropped the spatula in his hand.

Liu Yuheng put down his chopsticks and stood up, saying, "Father, Mother, I have to go."

"Go? Where to?" Wang Xiuhe grabbed his sleeve, her eyes instantly reddening.

"Resist Japan." He only said two words.

He was twelve years old that year. He used the name Liu Yuheng, but he changed it before participating in the December 9th Movement. He felt that the name Liu Dagang was too rustic and unworthy of this turbulent era.

Before leaving, he stood in the alleyway in front of his house, taking one last look at the mottled wooden door. His younger brother, Liu Erhe, clung to his leg, wailing. He bent down, pried his brother's hands off, patted his head, and said, "Ergou, study hard and listen to your parents."

Then he turned and left without looking back.

He left the capital with Zhao Gang and went to the holy land. It was the first time he had ever traveled such a long distance, a journey that took more than a month.

Upon arriving at the sacred site, Zhao Gang went directly to study at the Anti-Japanese Military and Political University (Kangda). Liu Yuheng also wanted to go directly to Kangda, but he was too young, only twelve years old, and the youngest student at Kangda was several years older than him. Taking his age and educational level into consideration, the organization first arranged for him to attend high school for a period of time to ensure that his knowledge was sufficient, only that he was a little too young, before allowing him to enter Kangda.

He was only fourteen years old when he graduated from the Anti-Japanese Military and Political University in 1939.

A fourteen-year-old boy, who would still be in junior high school in peacetime, was already a revolutionary soldier carrying a gun in this era. At that time, the old brigade commander happened to be back to report on his work and took a liking to him at first glance.

"This little rascal, he's young but quick-witted." The old brigade commander patted his head, his calloused hands making the boy's head buzz. "Come with me, stay by my side for a year, and then go down when you're older."

And so, Liu Yuheng served as a staff officer under the old brigade commander for a year, essentially acting as a communications officer, secretary, and attendant. He did everything—serving tea and water, running errands, delivering messages, and so on. During that year, he learned a great deal, not just about fighting, but more importantly, about how to be a person. The old brigade commander was a master of combat, and also a master of scolding, but he was extremely protective of those around him. If anyone bullied one of his men, he would fly into a rage.

In 1940, Zhao Gang went to the Independent Regiment as political commissar, partnering with Li Yunlong. Liu Yuheng also couldn't stand it anymore, and after half a month of persistent pleading with the old brigade commander, he was finally released and became a company commander in a regiment.

In 42, he became a battalion commander. By the end of the War of Resistance against Japan in 45, he was already a regimental commander. He and Li Yunlong always had a good relationship; both were straightforward and honest, and although Liu Yuheng was more than ten years younger than Li Yunlong, they got along very well. Sometimes Li Yunlong would tease him like a little brother, and other times he would treat him as a proper comrade-in-arms, and they would talk about everything when they drank.

In early 1947, he was promoted to division commander along with Li Yunlong. He was twenty-two years old that year, making him one of the youngest division commanders in the entire army.

In mid-1948, he was promoted to deputy commander of the column. Before the Crossing the Yangtze River Campaign, he took over as commander of the column.

Then, in June 1949, he was leading 6 men, fully equipped with American weapons, and two howitzer regiments, on the border of Guangdong and Guangxi provinces. He was about to make a name for himself when he suddenly received orders to return to Beijing.

Liu Yuheng turned over, remembering his home in that world, his cell phone and the internet, and many things he could never go back to.

But what he longed for most was his home in this world, that small courtyard in the alley of the southern city, with its mottled brick walls and low eaves, his father Liu Shuanzhu, his mother Wang Xiuhe, and his younger brother Liu Erhe.

Twelve years have passed. Are they still alive? Do they still live in the same place? His younger brother should be twenty years old this year. Could he have gone to the battlefield as well? How are his parents? Can they still recognize him? He was only twelve years old when he left. Now he is twenty-five. He has grown a lot taller. His voice has changed, and his appearance has changed. Even his own parents might not recognize him.

The train rattled along all night and then for another day.

On the evening of June 11, the train finally swayed and lurched into Qianmen Railway Station.

"Commander, we've arrived!" Xiao Sun packed his things, carrying a canvas bag on his back and another bag in his hand, and stood waiting for him at the door of the private room.

Liu Yuheng took a deep breath, straightened his military cap, tightened his belt, and stepped out of the carriage.

He stood on the platform, and for a few seconds, he felt somewhat dazed.

"Commander? Are you alright?" Xiao Sun's voice came from the side.

"It's nothing." Liu Yuheng came to his senses and strode forward.

Before Liu Yuheng had taken more than a few steps, a man approached him. He was a cadre in his thirties who stood at attention and saluted Liu Yuheng.

"Excuse me, are you Commander Liu Yuheng?"

Liu Yuheng returned the greeting: "It is I."

"Commander Liu, the General has sent me to pick you up." The officer pointed to the side, "The car is over there, please come with me."

Liu Yuheng followed that person into the car.

The car drove directly into the Military Commission compound. The sentry at the gate checked their identification and carefully examined the faces of everyone in the car before waving them through. The car made two turns in the compound and stopped in front of a small gray brick building. The group then got out and went into the lobby.

"Commander Liu, please wait a moment while I go in and inform them," the officer said, quickly walking into an office inside.

He came out in less than two minutes and waved to Liu Yuheng: "Please come in, the boss is waiting for you."

Liu Yuheng straightened his military uniform and stepped inside.

"Report!"

Behind the desk sat a man in a simple military uniform, reading a document. Seeing Liu Yuheng enter, he put down the document and nodded to him.

"You're here? Please have a seat."

Liu Yuheng sat down in the chair, his back ramrod straight.

The boss sized him up for a few seconds, then spoke: "Comrade Liu Yuheng, do you know why you were transferred back to Beijing?"

"Report, I don't know," Liu Yuheng said honestly. "I was commanding operations at the front when I suddenly received orders to return to the capital. I haven't been notified of the specific mission yet."

The general nodded, took a document from his drawer, placed it on the table, and tapped it lightly with his finger: "The Central Military Commission has decided to establish a garrison command to be responsible for the security and defense of Beijing. You will be in charge of establishing this garrison command and will serve as its commander."

Liu Yuheng was stunned for a moment.

Garrison Command? Beijing? Aren't those just garrison troops?

His expression changed from surprise to embarrassment, and then from embarrassment to something that was hard to explain.

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke, his tone filled with deep reluctance: "Sir, I'm a military officer. Charging into battle and leading troops is my specialty. Look at the front lines, the fighting is raging. Guangdong and Guangxi haven't been captured yet, and the Southwest hasn't been liberated. We need manpower right now. Perhaps... you could reconsider? I'd like to return to the front lines?"

The boss didn't say anything, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at him.

Liu Yuheng felt a little guilty under that gaze, but he still forced himself to finish his sentence: "My column is a formidable main force. I'm afraid that changing the commander at this time will affect the combat effectiveness of the troops. How about this, you give me three months. After I've conquered the south, I'll come back to serve as the garrison commander, okay?"

The boss narrowed his eyes even more.

Liu Yuheng finally dared not say anything more.

There was a two-second silence in the room before the boss spoke: "This is an order from the organization, and you have no room for negotiation."

Liu Yuheng opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

He took a deep breath, stood up, stood at attention, snapped to attention, and saluted, his voice several times louder than before: "Yes! I am a brick of the Party, ready to be moved wherever needed! I will resolutely obey orders!"

The commander's tense expression relaxed, a slight smile appeared on his lips, and he nodded. He then said, "The garrison command is still in the formation stage, and the troops are not yet fully assembled. The units that received the orders are on their way, the earliest of which will arrive in about three days. Go and arrange your accommodations, rest for a couple of days, adjust your mindset, and then take up your post. I've already had the specific organizational plan and task assignments prepared; take them and study them later."

"Yes!" Liu Yuheng's voice was still loud.

"Alright, go ahead." The boss waved his hand and looked down at the documents again.

Liu Yuheng saluted again, then turned and walked out of the office.

By the time he stepped out of the building, it was almost dark. A faint, dark red sunset lingered in the western sky, and dim lights illuminated the courtyard. Xiao Sun, who was waiting outside, rushed to greet him: "Commander, where are we going now?"

Liu Yuheng glanced at the dark red sky, straightened his hat brim, and strode forward: "Let's find a place to stay first."