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

Bai Ling was stunned for a moment, then heard the shouts of Japanese soldiers outside and the beams of flashlights piercing through the cracks in the window.

He immediately realized that they were pretending to sleep while having marital relations.

She quickly unbuttoned the top two buttons of her collar, then tousled her hair, letting it fall down to cover half of her face.

After she finished, He Dajun got off the kang (a heated brick bed), dragged his injured leg, and limped toward the door.

He placed his hand on the door latch, took a deep breath, and then pulled it open.

The moment the door opened, He Dajun's expression changed from calm to fear, and then a hint of flattery squeezed out from that fear.

A Japanese soldier stood outside the door, holding a rifle. He was not tall but had broad shoulders, and his face beneath his helmet was full of fierceness.

He Dajun bent down, about to speak, when his gaze passed over the Japanese soldier's shoulder and fell upon the scene in the courtyard.

The courtyard was as bright as dawn. Two thick torches burned, their flames whistling in the night wind, sparks shooting into the sky and landing on the bluestone slabs.

In addition, beams of light from at least four or five large flashlights swept back and forth in the courtyard, blindingly white, like knives slicing through the darkness.

Where the beam of light swept, you could see that the doors of every household had been smashed open, and the residents had been driven into the middle of the courtyard. Men, women, and children were crammed together, some barefoot and some wearing only one shoe.

The child was crying, but the adults were tightly covering his mouth. Whoever's face was shone with the beam of a flashlight trembled all over.

Several Japanese soldiers walked back and forth in the crowd, their rifle butts occasionally slamming into someone's shoulder with a dull thud.

Someone was shouting orders in Japanese, someone was kicking down the door, and the whole courtyard was in complete chaos.

The Japanese soldiers shone their flashlights on He Dajun's face. The bright light made He Dajun squint, but he kept smiling obsequiously.

The beam of the flashlight passed over He Dajun's shoulder, swept into the room, swayed on the kang (a heated brick bed), and landed on Bai Ling.

Bai Ling huddled under the covers, her hair disheveled, her head bowed.

The beam of light lingered on her for ten seconds before moving away.

The Japanese soldier put away his flashlight and pointed to the courtyard, meaning: Come out and assemble in the courtyard.

He Dajun stood at the door, his face a mask of panic and obsequiousness, but inwardly he watched everything with cold indifference.

If the Japanese devils try anything to Bai Ling, they will be wiped out immediately.

For now, let's wait and see.

After all, tonight was great. We've already taken down fifty-three Japanese soldiers. That's about enough. We can deal with the Japanese slowly. There's plenty of time.

He bowed even deeper, forced a smile, and said to the Japanese soldiers outside the door, "Sir, I am He Dajun, personally appointed by Major Sasaki. What are your orders in the middle of the night?"

The Japanese soldier didn't say anything, but just told He Dajun to go out, and then told Bai Ling to go out as well.

Soon, all thirty-seven people in the courtyard were driven out.

Yi Zhonghai stood with an older woman, wearing a coat, and bent over to talk to a sergeant.

Xu Wude stood at his front door, one button on his shirt was fastened incorrectly, and his expression was both nervous and bewildered.

Yan Bugui stood at the door of the south room, his eyes blinking rapidly behind his glasses.

Liu Haizhong stood shirtless at the door of the west wing, his back still ramrod straight.

He Daqing also brought He Liushi and Shazhu out, and found He Dajun here, feeling that the family would be safer if they were together.

A sergeant stood in the middle of the courtyard, the beam of a flashlight shining from behind him, casting a long shadow that looked like a black cross nailed to a bluestone slab.

He glanced around at the residents crammed into the courtyard and then spoke.

The translator stood beside him, translating the Japanese words sentence by sentence in a high-pitched and loud voice that everyone could hear clearly.

"Just now! The Imperial Army was attacked by rioters! The rioters used grenades and explosives, causing heavy casualties to the Imperial Army! The entire city is now under martial law, and house to house is being searched! Does anyone... have seen any suspicious persons? Does anyone have any clues about the rioters? Report immediately!"

"The Imperial Army will offer a hefty reward! Anyone who conceals information will have their entire family executed upon verification!"

The last four words were like a knife cleaving down from the sky.

This threat is terrifying, and it's real, not just verbal.

Seeing everyone's silence, He Dajun stood in the middle of the crowd, slightly in front, dragging his left leg which was wrapped in bandages, with a look of fear and unease on his face.

After the translator finished speaking, he took a small step forward, bent down, and said to the sergeant, "Sir, I am He Dajun, the steel mill worker manager personally appointed by Major Sasaki. I've been sleeping in my room since I came back from the factory tonight and haven't seen anything."

"If I saw it, I would report it to the Imperial Army immediately! I am utterly loyal to the Imperial Army and would never dare to conceal anything!"

He spoke loudly enough for everyone in the courtyard to hear. Several gazes shot over from the crowd, some with disdain, some with envy, and others with something else that was hard to define.

He Dajun didn't care at all, and waited for the sergeant's response while bending over.

The sergeant glanced at him, his expression unchanged, making it unclear whether he believed him or not.

He turned around, waved to the Japanese soldiers behind him, and said something in Japanese. The interpreter then shouted, "Search! Search every house, every single one!"

The Japanese soldiers, carrying guns, divided into three or four groups and rushed into the east wing, west wing, south room, and north room respectively.

He Dajun stood in the courtyard, watching the beams of flashlights shine through the windows of each household, flickering on the paper window frames, and listening to the sounds of rummaging through drawers and cabinets coming from inside the houses.

Drawers were pulled open, cabinet doors were kicked open, bedding on the kang (a heated brick bed) was thrown to the ground, and pots on the stove were picked up and slammed down, making a loud clanging sound.

The door to Yi Zhonghai's house was kicked open.

Two Japanese soldiers rushed in, their flashlights sweeping around the room, shining on the cabinets, the kang (heated brick bed), and the stove.

An older woman stood in the courtyard, her lips trembling as she tried to say something, but Yi Zhonghai grabbed her sleeve.

She bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, listening to the ping-pong sounds from the table in the room, each sound pounding against her heart.

The door to Jia Zhangshi's house was smashed open. A Japanese soldier came out, carrying half a bag of cornmeal.

When Jia Zhangshi saw the half-bag of flour, her eyes widened instantly, and she let out a short, sharp cry, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

Subconsciously, he let go of Jia Dongxu's hand, took a step forward, opened his mouth, and wanted to say that it was the last bit of food our family had.

But when she saw the Japanese soldiers' bayonets reflecting a cold light in the firelight, she shut her mouth again.

Jia Dongxu tugged at her clothes from behind, not daring to speak.

But in his heart, he began to resent He Dajun's cursing, thinking that having someone in the compound working for the Imperial Army would at least bring him some advantage, and that the Japanese would be more lenient when they came. But what happened? He Daqing was still arrested as usual, and the grain was still looted as usual, without showing any mercy.

So this traitor brought no benefit to the neighbors whatsoever; instead, they all shared in his bad reputation. They were truly cursed for eight lifetimes.

[Jia Zhangshi's resentment breaks through the defense, the host gains 1 defense-breaking point.]

Later, the door to the Schwood family's house was broken down.

He Daqing's house was not spared either.

A Japanese soldier searched inside for a while, and when he came out, he was carrying a half-sack of rice.

When He Liu saw the half-bag of rice being pulled out, she swayed and turned as white as a sheet.

He Dajun stood in the courtyard, watching all of this, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his trouser leg, one tap at a time, as if he were counting, or as if he were performing a ritual for the deceased in advance.

The Japanese searched very slowly, taking more than three hours to finish, and found nothing, though they could also have some great gains.

After all, they took away everyone's living supplies and money from the courtyard.

Even He Dajun's house was searched, and three kilograms of rice and more than ten yuan were found.

On the surface, the losses were devastating.

The people in the entire courtyard felt like the sky had fallen, but they dared not speak out against their anger.

Afterwards, these people all returned home and took stock of their losses.

Finally, someone started crying.

Then more people started crying.

He Dajun stood at the door of the side room, watching this scene, and remained silent for a while.

Bai Ling stood beside him and asked in a low voice, "All the rice has been taken. What are we going to eat tomorrow?"

He Dajun didn't answer directly. He looked in the direction where the Japanese soldiers disappeared and his lips twitched.

She whispered comfortingly, "It's okay, I'll figure something out."