The Courtyard House: The Little Red Devil Returning from the Peninsula

The standoff lasted for fifteen minutes.

Zhao Weiguo stood motionless at the entrance of the main compound. Behind him, a platoon of soldiers had their guns pointed at the windows upstairs. No one fired.

A quiet argument drifted upstairs. Some people were shouting, others were throwing things. Then Xie Baoqing's cursing drowned out everyone else.

After a while, the window opened again.

Xie Baoqing showed half of his face, his cheeks taut.

How do I know you're not here to kill me?

Zhao Weiguo put down the bowl in his hand.

"If I wanted your life, those volleys of arrows wouldn't have shot into the sky first."

Xie Baoqing did not respond.

Zhao Weiguo added, "There are over four hundred men in Black Cloud Village, and the Independent Regiment didn't fire a single shot at them. Most of them surrendered themselves. I don't want to kill the remaining people upstairs either."

"So what do you want?"

"Two things. First, forget about the monks. Second, the people of Black Cloud Stronghold are free to choose. Those who want to leave can leave, and those who want to stay will be investigated and incorporated into the Independent Regiment. As for you, surrender your weapon and await further instructions."

Xie Baoqing's face twitched.

"Hand over your weapon?"

"Hand over your weapons."

"After I hand over my weapon, will you let me live?"

"We'll discuss it after the investigation is complete. If there's no murder, we'll give leniency."

Xie Baoqing remained silent for a long time.

The soldiers downstairs were all waiting, guns pointed at the windows, fingers on the triggers. Zhao Weiguo stood at the front, neither drawing his gun nor urging them to fire.

A little while later, there was a knock on the door upstairs.

Xie Baoqing pushed open the door and came out. He was shirtless, his gun holster was empty, and his hands were raised at shoulder height. Behind him were seven or eight henchmen, all with their hands raised as well.

"The gun's on the table inside," he said hoarsely. "The man you wanted, the monk, is already with you."

Zhao Weiguo glanced at him and said to Lao Zhou, "Put away your gun. Register."

Old Zhou led his men into the stone building.

Zhao Weiguo stood in the courtyard, looking at Xie Baoqing. Xie Baoqing was half a head taller than him, but when he stood there, his shoulders slumped, as if something was weighing him down.

"You just said you'd let the matter of the monk go. Do you mean it?"

"count."

Xie Baoqing twitched his chin slightly, then fell silent.

After clearing the main courtyard, Zhao Weiguo instructed Zhao Gang to sort and process the prisoners in the village square.

The square wasn't large, but it held about three hundred people. There were bandits, coerced farmers, and teenagers who were just there to get a living. Soldiers from the Independent Regiment stood at the four corners, their guns pointed outwards.

Zhao Gang stood at the front, holding a notebook in his hand. He looked around first, and only spoke after the room had completely quieted down.

"Listen up, Black Cloud Stronghold members. The commander said to handle them according to their categories. Those with murder on their hands, step forward. Those without, register according to the rules."

No one moved.

Zhao Gang added, "It's fine if you don't come forward. But I have the ledgers here—the village's income and expenditure records for the past few years, grain distribution records, and kidnapping lists. The treatment will be different depending on whether someone else finds out or someone else comes forward voluntarily."

Someone below moved slightly, then stopped.

Zhao Gang wasn't in a hurry, so he just stood in front and waited.

After a moment of silence, people stepped out from the crowd. One, two, three.

Those who came out squatted on the left side of the square, heads bowed. Zhao Gang had his soldiers register them one by one: their names, when they came up the mountain, and what they had done.

For the remaining people, Zhao Gang had his soldiers register them by village. Those who could clearly state their hometown, what kind of land they farmed, and who else was in their family stood aside; those who couldn't were questioned separately.

The square was quiet, with only Zhao Gang's voice and the sound of a pen scratching on paper.

Zhao Weiguo stood at the edge of the square, not interfering. He watched Zhao Gang handle these matters for a while, then turned and walked towards the prison cells.

Outside the prison cell, in the open space, the monk sat on a rock.

He clutched the long knife in his hand, its tip stuck in the ground, the blade still damp with blood. It wasn't his.

Standing nearby was an old soldier, the informant who had patrolled the prison before. The two were talking.

Seeing Zhao Weiguo approaching, the monk stood up.

"Commander."

Zhao Weiguo squatted down in front of him and looked at the marks on his wrist. They were red marks from being rubbed by the iron chain, with some areas already scabbed over.

Give me your hand.

The monk paused for a moment, then extended his left hand.

Zhao Weiguo didn't say anything, and stood up.

"Go to the medic and get some medicine."

"Need not."

"Apply the medicine."

The monk shut up.

Zhao Weiguo looked at the chain mark on his wrist.

"You spent two years in jail. When you got out, you could smash chains, open doors, and take down two thugs. You haven't lost your skills."

The monk didn't speak, but he straightened his back.

"Rest first. Apply the medicine."

The monk nodded.

"I've got it."

Zhao Weiguo turned around and called over a communications soldier.

"Take him to the special operations company to report for duty. Assign him to the second platoon first, and let him lead the close combat and assault training."

The signalman stood at attention. The monk gripped his knife and stood up.

"Commander."

Zhao Weiguo turned to look at him.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"ask."

Why did you go to all that trouble to save me?

Zhao Weiguo's gaze lingered on his face for a moment.

Those who refuse to collude with bandits will be saved.

The monk opened his mouth, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Commander, my life..."

Zhao Weiguo interrupted him.

"Your life is yours. Use it to fight the Japanese."

He turned and walked towards the square.

The sorting in the square is almost complete.

Zhao Gang walked over with a notebook, which was filled with dense notes.

"Seven people were murdered. One hundred and twenty-three were farmers who were coerced. Eighty-six able-bodied men were willing to stay and undergo investigation."

What about the rest?

"Those who remain are their families and the elderly and infirm. Those who wish to leave can do so, while those who do not wish to leave will be temporarily accommodated in the village."

Zhao Weiguo remained silent.

"Those seven will be locked up separately for now, and we'll see how they fared after the interrogation. Those willing to reorganize will be placed in the reserve team, with a three-month probationary period."

Zhao Gang made a note in his notebook.

"Oh, right. There's one more thing."

"What?"

Zhao Gang pointed behind him.

"During the interrogation of the bandits, we found one. He was the deputy leader of Wolfskin Village, the one who carried sacks. Wolf Three didn't lock him up; he let him run errands all over the village."

Zhao Weiguo looked in the direction he was pointing.

A man stood by the edge of the square. He was of medium height, with broad shoulders, his face weathered by time, his cheekbones reddened by the sun, and a stubble of unkempt hair on his chin. He wore a black cotton-padded jacket, torn in several places to reveal a gray cloth lining underneath. His cloth shoes were almost worn through, the soles bound together with straw rope. He wasn't looking this way; his head was down, and he clutched a piece of hemp rope in his hand.

Zhao Weiguo walked over.

What's your name?

The man raised his head. His eyes were deep and unwavering.

"Duan Peng."

How big?

"Twenty-four."

What did you do before?

Duan Peng didn't answer immediately. He paused for a few seconds.

"Carrying sacks."

"In Wolfskin Village?"

Duan Peng nodded.

Zhao Weiguo looked at him. This man didn't look like a bandit, nor a soldier. But he had a sturdy frame, thick calluses on his hands, and taut shoulders. He was capable of handling things.

"Are you willing to go with the Independent Regiment?"

Duan Peng glanced at Zhao Weiguo, then at Zhao Gang. He didn't ask anything else.

"Walk."

Duan Peng followed behind Zhao Weiguo, still carrying the piece of hemp rope in his hand.

When they reached the village gate, the monk was already standing there, carrying a newly issued rifle. He had changed his clothes. He was wearing the gray uniform of the Independent Regiment, a bit too big, with the sleeves rolled up twice, but it made him look much more imposing.

The short knife was tucked behind his waist, with the hilt protruding from under the hem of his clothes.

"Commander."

Zhao Weiguo nodded.

"Let's go."

The monk glanced at Duan Peng, who was following behind, and raised an eyebrow.

"Who is this?"

"The new guy. Duan Peng."

"Also from Black Cloud Stronghold?"

"Sort of. But he never did anything wrong; he even brought a map to the Independent Regiment."

The monk glanced at Duan Peng, and Duan Peng glanced at him in return.

The monk didn't ask any more questions. He shouldered his gun and walked ahead.

The gunfire on Black Cloud Ridge completely ceased.

Inside the village, the soldiers of the Independent Regiment were doing their final cleanup: counting weapons and ammunition, registering prisoners, and settling their families. Zhao Gang sat on the stone steps by the square, an account book spread out on his lap, writing down details one by one.

Gardenia walked back from the east gate, her short gun tucked into her waistband, the dust on her face still untouched.

She walked up to Zhao Weiguo.

"Reporting to the commander. The surveillance at the east gate is complete; no one slipped through. The guard company has also relayed the message. The deputy commander of Wolfskin Village sent someone to scout, but they were scared back after being fired at twice."

Zhao Weiguo remained silent.

"Thanks for your hard work."

Zhi Zi looked around the courtyard. The monk stood at the door with a gun on his shoulder, and Duan Peng stood beside him holding a rolled-up map.

"You brought both?"

"I brought it."

Gardenia smiled but didn't say anything more.

That afternoon, the Independent Regiment escorted the prisoners down from Black Cloud Ridge.

The line stretched out in a long queue, with soldiers from the Independent Regiment at the front, prisoners being interrogated in the middle, and those willing to go with the Independent Regiment at the back.

The monk walked in the middle of the group, slightly ahead, with his rifle slung over his shoulder, his steps more steady than at any time in the past two years.

Duan Peng walked not far behind him, still holding the rolled-up map in his hands.

Zhao Weiguo walked at the front of the group, with Zhao Gang beside him.

A mountain breeze blew by, carrying the scent of autumn hay and earth. The sky was high and blue.

Zhao Weiguo glanced back at Black Cloud Ridge.

The village is now far away, shrinking into a small dot on the mountainside.

He turned back and continued walking forward.

Someone shouted from behind. It was the monk's voice, shouting at the top of his lungs, with the energy he had accumulated during his two years in prison.

"Commander, what are we having for dinner tonight?"

Someone in the group chuckled.

Zhao Weiguo did not turn around.

You'll know when you get there.

The monk chuckled behind him and steadied his steps a little more.

The group descended the mountain path. Zhao Gang walked beside Zhao Weiguo, flipping through his notebook to review today's records. Prisoners had been categorized, weapons inventoried, and the village handed over to the local maintenance committee for temporary management. He closed the notebook.

"The matter of Black Cloud Stronghold is considered settled."

Zhao Weiguo looked at the road ahead.

"It's not over yet."

"What's wrong?"

"The secondary stronghold of Wolfskin Village is still standing," Zhao Weiguo said. "We're not attacking today because the main stronghold just fell, and the soldiers are exhausted. But the secondary stronghold can't be left unattended indefinitely."

Zhao Gang thought for a moment and nodded.

"Too."

"Have the guard company go over and check it out tomorrow," Zhao Weiguo said. "If we can talk, we can talk; if not, we'll see."