Courtyard House: I only wiped out 30,000 Japanese pirates

He remembered what He Dajun had told him before: tell the truth, don't make things up, don't hide anything.

He told the truth about everything.

He worked at Tan's Restaurant for three years and knew Tan Zhengyong. He usually cooked, but he didn't know who Tan Zhengyong associated with, and he knew nothing about the inside story.

After listening, the interrogator didn't say anything, but started hitting him again.

This time, the whip was applied to the back, slashing diagonally from the shoulder to the waist, tearing the cloth strip in two more places.

He Daqing couldn't help but scream again, the sound coming out of the sealed window like the wail of a wild beast.

The Japanese soldiers interrogating He Daqing didn't care whether he was telling the truth or lying. Because ordinary people, they would soon be unable to hold back and would honestly confess everything, even what they had secretly eaten as children.

And even if He Daqing was wronged, it doesn't matter.

Forcing a confession out of someone is very simple.

If all else fails, just kill them.

So he casually lashed the whip a couple more times, since the lives of the people of Daxia were worthless, like pigs and dogs.

Just then, a second lieutenant walked in.

The lieutenant walked over to the squad leader and whispered a few words to him.

The squad leader's expression changed. He glanced at He Daqing and then put down the whip in his hand.

He walked up to He Daqing, his face expressionless, and said, "He Daqing, you can leave now."

He Daqing was stunned for a moment. He thought he had misheard.

I was stunned by the blow; my ears were still ringing, and my mind couldn't process what was happening.

He looked at the squad leader, his lips trembling, but he couldn't utter a word. The squad leader waved his hand impatiently, and a soldier next to him came forward and untied the rope from his wrists.

The rope was too tight, and after it was untied, two deep purple marks were left on my wrists, and my skin was chafed, with pale yellow blood seeping out.

He Daqing stood up from the chair, his legs went weak and he almost knelt down. He had to hold onto the back of the chair to keep his balance.

He walked out step by step, very slowly, because his feet hurt when he lifted them, so he walked very slowly.

It wasn't until he walked out of the pawnshop and stood in the alley, with the sunlight shining on his face, that he realized he had really been released.

I couldn't help but burst into tears.

A grown man stood in the alley, trembling with sobs. Occasionally, passersby would glance at him, then quickly lower their heads and walk away.

He Daqing didn't know how he got back to the courtyard house.

The journey from the pawnshop to Nanluoguxiang, which usually takes twenty minutes, took him more than an hour.

With each step he took, the wound on his back rubbed against his clothes, causing him to gasp in pain. But he dared not stop; he just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

When He Daqing returned home, He Liu was taken aback for a moment.

She saw her man standing in the doorway, shirtless, his chest and stomach covered in crisscrossing whip marks, some still bleeding, his pants stained with dried blood and wet sweat.

Half of his face was swollen, and his eyes were covered in bruises.

He Liu put Sha Zhu on the kang (a heated brick bed), then rushed over like a madwoman, hugged He Daqing, and burst into tears.

The crying was shrill and loud, echoing throughout the room, impossible to suppress.

As she cried, she reached out to touch the whip marks on He Daqing's body, causing him to flinch in pain. He Liu quickly withdrew her hand, no longer daring to touch them, and continued to weep.

He Daqing stood there, tears streaming down his face.

He wanted to say something, but his voice was too hoarse to speak properly, so he could only raise his hand and pat He Liu's back, one pat at a time.

Very mechanical.

Bai Ling stood to the side, watching this scene, feeling as if her heart had been violently clenched.

He put the cornbread he was holding on the table, went to the stove to get a bowl, scooped half a bowl of cold water from the water vat, went to the inner room to find a clean cloth, soaked it in water, wrung it out, and handed it to He Liu Shi, asking her to help He Daqing wipe the blood off his face.

He Liu took the damp cloth and, while crying, carefully wiped the blood and mud off He Daqing's face.

He Daqing sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), head down, letting his wife clean his wounds, occasionally gasping for breath in pain.

Sha Zhu was awakened by the crying. He rubbed his eyes and sat up on the kang (a heated brick bed). He saw his father naked and covered in blood, and he burst into tears as well.

Bai Ling quickly went over and picked up Sha Zhu, gently coaxing him, saying, "It's okay, Zhu Zi, your father is back, it's okay."

After she had calmed Sha Zhu down, He Liu had already cleaned He Daqing's wounds.

The whip marks were too deep, and the saline solution had burned the wounds, causing them to become red, swollen, and inflamed. Several places were still oozing a pale yellow liquid.

He Liu took a clean piece of clothing and draped it over He Daqing's body, not daring to let him wear it, for fear that the clothing would rub against his wounds.

He Daqing sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), holding a bowl of cold water in his hands. He took two sips and then put it down. His hands were still trembling, and a few drops of water from the bowl splashed onto the edge of the kang.

Bai Ling sat down opposite him and asked in a low voice, "Big brother, what happened to you inside? What did they ask you?"

He Daqing opened his mouth, his voice hoarse and hissing, before he finally spoke haltingly after a while.

"They started beating me as soon as they went in, without asking anything. They whipped me twice, it hurt like hell."

After He Daqing finished speaking, the two men felt an extraordinary hatred for the Japanese devils and guessed that this must be the result of He Dajun's rescue.

He Daqing thought so too. When he spoke, his voice carried a sense of bewilderment after surviving a disaster, as well as complex feelings for his younger brother who had become a lackey.

If it weren't for He Dajun, he might have died in that interrogation room.

After listening, Bai Ling nodded silently.

She stood up, walked to the door and looked outside. It was almost noon, and the courtyard was quiet, with all the doors closed.

No one came out; the entire courtyard was almost completely silent.

Bai Ling turned to He Daqing and He Liu Shi and said, "Brother and sister-in-law, you two rest first. I'll go see if any pharmacies are open and buy some medicine to apply to your brother's wound, otherwise it will swell up even more tomorrow."

After thinking for a moment, He Liu nodded.

He grabbed a handful of soot from the bottom of the stove, rubbed it in his palm, and smeared it on Bai Ling's face.

As she wiped her face, He Liu whispered, "There are Japanese soldiers outside. Your face is too conspicuous. Be very careful. If things get really bad, come back immediately and wait for the army to return so we can make a decision."

Bai Ling smiled and said to He Liu, "Don't worry, sister-in-law, I'm fine."

He Liu went through the cabinet again, took out a few crumpled bills, and stuffed them into Bai Ling's hand.

Bai Ling refused, and he said, "Sister-in-law, I have money. Dajun gave me some before."

He Liu was about to offer more when Bai Ling had already reached the door.

She opened the door a crack and looked out. There was no one in the courtyard, and all the doors and windows of the houses were tightly closed.

She slipped through the crack in the door, gently closed it, walked down the steps, and exited the courtyard.

The streets were eerily quiet.

Just two or three days later, the entire city of Beijing seemed to have its mouth covered by a giant hand.

There were hardly any ordinary people on the streets. Occasionally, one or two pedestrians would walk briskly close to the walls, their steps quick and fragmented, their heads down and avoiding eye contact.

There was a faint smell of burning in the air, drifting from an unknown direction, mixed with the smell of gunpowder and coal ash, heavy and oppressive in my lungs.

After walking less than two hundred meters, Bai Ling encountered the first sentry post.

Two Japanese soldiers stood behind a pile of sandbags at the street corner. The sandbags were about half a person's height, and a light-handled gun was placed on top of them.

The Japanese soldiers, guns at the ready, scanned the empty streets with their eyes.

Bai Ling didn't quicken her pace. After walking down a street, she heard the sound of leather boots hitting the ground ahead. A patrol of Japanese soldiers emerged from an alley, five men lined up in a row, their bayonets gleaming in the sunlight.

Bai Ling moved aside and stopped.

As the patrol passed by her, she kept her head down and felt one of the Japanese soldiers' gazes linger on her for a moment before moving away.

The patrol team walked away, and Bai Ling continued walking forward.

A dozen minutes later, Bai Ling went to a nearby pharmacy, only to find it closed. After hesitating for a moment, she knocked on the door. After knocking for a while, a doctor in his thirties finally came out.

Bai Ling said anxiously, "Doctor, someone in my family is sick. Could you please go and take a look?"

The doctor looked at Bai Ling, hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "What's wrong?"

When Bai Ling explained He Daqing's condition, the doctor's expression changed upon hearing the word "whip," and he immediately said, "It's incurable."

He then said, "Young lady, you should leave now. There's chaos and war going on, and I'm already closed."

"Doctor..." Bai Ling wanted to say more.

"Let's go, let's go," the doctor said, urging people to leave.

Bai Ling was quite helpless. She didn't even get the medicine, so she had no choice but to leave reluctantly.

After Bai Ling left, two Japanese soldiers came out from inside.

He glanced coldly at the middle-aged doctor but said nothing.

The middle-aged doctor suddenly felt a chill run through his body, as if he had just escaped death.

He immediately said, "Gentlemen... I didn't say anything... I didn't say anything..."

The two men ignored him and went back to the pharmacy.

A moment later, a young man emerged from the crack in the door, pulled down his sleeves to cover his forearms, and tugged at his collar; he looked like an ordinary passerby.