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

At the same time, Lou Bancheng was truly convinced.

He naturally heard the huge explosion during the night raid on Jingxi Park last night, and even got up to observe it.

And He Dajun was the first person I thought of.

In the morning, he even went to the neighborhood to inquire about it himself.

After all, this is a big bet.

After carefully analyzing what appeared to be He Dajun's victory last night, Lou Bancheng finally made up his mind.

He took a deep breath, walked into his yard, pulled out a safe, opened it, and took out a heavy wooden box from the inside.

Upon opening the box, ten gold bars were neatly stacked inside, each one pure gold, representing the last bit of his savings that he had kept hidden for a long time.

He wrapped the gold bars in red silk cloth, walked to the telephone, picked up the receiver, and shook it a few times.

The call was answered quickly.

Sasaki's voice came through the receiver.

Lou Bancheng adopted a very humble attitude, saying that after careful consideration, he had decided to donate all his family property to the Imperial Army to support the maintenance work of the steel rolling mill.

He also said that he was willing to actively cooperate with the Imperial Army's various arrangements and do his part to build a shared prosperity circle.

After hearing the translator's explanation, Sasaki quickly brought his men over.

His jeep was parked in front of the Lou family mansion, followed by two guards and a translator.

And a squad of soldiers.

Lou Bancheng personally stood at the door to greet him, invited Sasaki into the living room, and then bent down to hand over the red silk bag with both hands, saying that it contained ten catties of gold, which was Lou Bancheng's last remaining fortune, and he was willing to donate it all to the Imperial Army's steel mill repair shop.

He deliberately used the name "steel rolling mill" without adding the words "Lou's family," which clearly indicated that he had acknowledged that the mill no longer belonged to him but to the Imperial Army.

Sasaki took the heavy red silk bag, weighed it in his hand, and a very satisfied smile appeared on his face.

That smile was deeper than ever before, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were even more pronounced.

He patted Lou Bancheng on the shoulder with a much lighter touch than he usually did on He Dajun, and said, "Mr. Lou is a model businessman of Daxia and the best partner of the Gongrong Circle."

He then announced on the spot that he would appoint Lou Bancheng as the president of the Sijiu City Chamber of Commerce to assist the Imperial Army in creating the best model of co-prosperity.

Lou Bancheng immediately bowed, his face showing both gratitude and honor, and repeatedly said, "You flatter me, sir. I will certainly do my utmost for the Imperial Army."

The way he bent over, the tone of his voice, and the intensity of his smile were exactly the same as He Dajun's in front of Sasaki.

If He Dajun were there, he would have to give him a mental thumbs up; the old man's acting skills were quite good, he had eight-tenths of his own.

When Lou Bancheng was bent over, he was thinking about something else entirely.

He thought to himself, "These ten pounds of gold are equivalent to me buying your Japanese machines."

Once the machines arrive, He Dajun will lead his men to set them off. It's like I'm spending ten pounds of gold to buy a super-sized fireworks display.

It's worth the price.

Meanwhile, He Dajun was riding that three-wheeled motorcycle, carrying Liu Haizhong, back from the steel rolling mill.

The morning sun shone from behind, casting very short shadows on the two people's backs.

Liu Haizhong sat up straighter than usual, his face showing a mixture of tension and excitement as he sat in the truck bed.

He Dajun had just asked him to come back to the courtyard house with him at the factory gate. He was so excited.

At this moment, He Dajun, looking ahead, said to Liu Haizhong while driving his motorcycle, "Haizhong, this time the Japanese are serious. The ammunition depot in Jingxi Park was bombed last night, and dozens of Japanese soldiers died."

"The whole city is searching for resistance fighters right now, we need to quickly bring up the puppet troops. Otherwise, if the Japanese come after us, we'll be in deep trouble."

Liu Haizhong nodded vigorously and said, "I understand. Don't worry, Dajun, I will definitely help you recruit everyone."

He Dajun added that the most urgent task was to recruit 100 men to get the headcount; other things could be discussed later. As for combat effectiveness, it wasn't important; the Japanese wouldn't provide that many weapons anyway, and five guns wouldn't be enough.

"The role of our puppet troops is to be the Japanese devils' hunting dogs, to go ahead and scout out the way, to help the Imperial Army detect the resistance, and if a fight really breaks out, the Imperial Army will be there to hold them off from behind."

After hearing this, Liu Haizhong's excitement cooled down a little.

Being a hunting dog isn't exactly a respectable metaphor, but then he thought about it again and realized it didn't matter. A hunting dog is a hunting dog, after all. Hunting dogs have dog food to eat and doghouses to sleep in, which is better than wild dogs starving to death outside.

What he cares about most now is what He Dajun promised him: to give him priority under the same conditions.

He mentioned it cautiously.

He Dajun glanced at him, knowing what the guy was thinking about, and smiled, saying that there were only five guns, and he would definitely give them to Liu Haizhong first.

Upon hearing this, Liu Haizhong's smile blossomed even brighter than a lotus flower in summer, and he sat up even straighter in the truck bed.

He felt that his good days were finally coming. With his seniority, Liu Haizhong was one of the first soldiers recruited by He Dajun, and he lived in the same courtyard as He Dajun. If he didn't get the gun, who else would he give it to?

In these chaotic times of war, only those with guns can stand tall.

After all, that stuff comes from the barrel of a gun, right?

After returning to the courtyard, He Dajun parked his motorcycle in the courtyard.

There were few people in the courtyard, and all the doors of the houses were closed, except for the chimney of He Daqing's house, from which thin wisps of smoke were rising.

Sha Zhu was squatting on the threshold, scratching the ground with a twig. When he saw He Dajun come back, he shouted "Second Uncle!" and ran over to hug his leg.

He Dajun ruffled his hair, then turned to Liu Haizhong and said he was going to the pharmacy, telling him to wait in the yard until someone came to sign up, then stay.

Liu Haizhong beamed with joy, repeatedly saying "okay, okay," and sat down on a small stool in the courtyard, looking quite pleased with himself.

He Dajun drove his motorcycle out of the courtyard, through two alleys, and arrived at the entrance of Baolin Pharmacy.

The door was already open, and Old Yang was arranging medicinal herbs in the shop. It was the same new shop assistant, Xiao Zhou, who was squatting behind the counter weighing the herbs with a small copper scale.

Old Yang heard footsteps, looked up, saw He Dajun's smiling face, paused for a moment, and then the anger in his heart surged up again.

That traitorous dog is at it again.

Last time, they extorted 350 yuan from him and even posted a notice he wrote at the entrance of the pharmacy, making the neighbors look at him like a traitor.

Later, He Dajun's henchman died in the vegetable market. The Japanese came to search several times, and now he can't sleep soundly every night. They came again today; I wonder what kind of trouble they're up to this time.

He Dajun swaggered into the shop, sat down on a bench, leaned the wooden stick against the counter, and got straight to the point.

"Boss Yang, please help me write some more notices. I'm officially recruiting. The puppet troops will receive excellent benefits, including pay, supplies, and security. The registration location is in the courtyard house where I live."

Old Yang's expression changed, suppressing his anger, his voice carrying a hint of undisguised helplessness: "Captain He, it's not that I don't want to help, but I really don't have any white or yellow paper left in my shop. Last time I wrote those notices, I used up all the paper I had stored."

I'm growing increasingly disgusted with He Dajun; that traitorous dog, he's really gone too far, targeting him alone.

He Dajun waved his hand, his tone carrying a hint of self-righteous arrogance: "Then let's go buy it. Come on, you come with me to the stationery store. I don't know anything about this, so you can help me choose. You're an expert; you can tell at a glance whether the paper is good or not."