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

Old Yang's lips twitched, and he blurted out, "Captain He, why don't you just go to the writing shop and have the owner write it for you? The owner of the writing shop also offers writing services, such as writing family letters and notices, and he's much better at it than I am."

Before he could finish speaking, He Dajun raised his hand and slapped him across the face.

The slap wasn't hard, but it was loud, especially clear in the quiet shop.

Old Yang's face turned to the side from the slap, and the burning pain spread from his cheek to his ear.

He Dajun's voice turned cold: "Boss Yang, if you don't come with me, you're disrespecting the Imperial Army and refusing to cooperate with their work. I can consider you a resistance fighter and arrest you right now."

Old Yang covered half of his face, his fingers trembling with anger.

He really wanted to grab the medicine jar from the counter and smash it over He Dajun's head, but he couldn't.

Xiao Zhou, standing next to him, kept his head down as he weighed the herbs, his fingers trembling slightly on the copper scale, his eyes constantly glancing this way out of the corner of his eye.

Old Yang took a deep breath and forcefully suppressed the urge to kill.

He removed his hands from his face, his lips twitched a few times, and finally he lowered his head and said, "Okay, Captain He, I'll go with you."

Then he turned around and instructed Xiao Zhou, "Take good care of the shop. If any patients come in, greet them first," before following He Dajun out of the pharmacy.

He Dajun stood at the entrance of the pharmacy, watching Old Yang lock the door, a barely perceptible smile on his face.

The 5 points that Lao Yang just scored on that extremely difficult defense breakout indicate that the opponent was exceptionally angry.

He knew that Lao Yang was probably plotting how to kill him, but he wasn't afraid. That was exactly the effect he wanted. The more Lao Yang hated him, the more he thought He Dajun was a traitor, the safer his disguise would be.

This time, He Dajun didn't drive his three-wheeled motorcycle; he walked instead.

The two walked one after the other through the alley toward the ink shop.

Old Yang walked two steps behind He Dajun, staring intently at the back of He Dajun's head, his mind racing with thoughts of how to kill this traitorous dog.

In Daxia, killing a traitor is the most effective deterrent; killing one will deter others from becoming traitors.

If we find an opportunity at night to sneak into the side room where He Dajun lives, we can take a hemp rope, put it around his neck, strangle him, and throw him into the well—clean and efficient.

As for Bai Ling, her situation is quite strange.

After walking for a while, He Dajun suddenly slowed down, so slow that he was almost side by side with Lao Yang.

There was no one in the alley, except for one or two stray cats perched on the wall.

He Dajun looked straight ahead, lowered his voice to a level that only Lao Yang could hear, and suddenly spoke.

"Your pharmacy has been under Japanese surveillance. Liu Sheng was from the Special Higher Police, and after I killed him, the new guy, Xiao Zhou, is probably the same. I've tried many ways to find an opportunity to speak with you alone."

"..." Old Yang.

"I only thought of this method to call you out alone today."

Old Yang paused for a moment, almost tripping over a stone slab.

He turned his head to look at He Dajun's profile, his mouth opening and closing again.

He Dajun didn't look at him and continued walking forward, his mouth still running: "Bai Ling knows your identity. She's been trying to contact you, but she discovered there were Japanese spies inside, so she had to pretend she didn't know you. She tried to find an opportunity several times afterward, but failed."

Old Yang's heart began to pound wildly.

Every word He Dajun said hit the nail on the head in the direction he dared not even think about.

Bai Ling knows him? Bai Ling is their comrade, so how does He Dajun know Bai Ling's identity?

If He Dajun is a traitor, how would he know that Bai Ling is a member of the Communist Party? If He Dajun is not a traitor, then what about his previous sycophantic behavior?

His mind was racing so fast that he almost tripped over his own feet again.

He Dajun's voice continued, like a knife peeling away layer after layer of Lao Yang's defenses: "That Liu Sheng was a spy for the Special Higher Police. I deliberately dragged him into the puppet army, and later found an opportunity to kill him."

"But since Xiao Zhou is still around, you should be careful with your words and actions."

Old Yang suddenly stopped.

He looked at He Dajun, opened his mouth several times, and finally squeezed out, "Captain He, I don't understand what you're saying."

He Dajun also stopped, turned his head to look at Lao Yang, and still had that faint smile on his lips.

Looking at Old Yang's face, which was filled with shock and wariness, he added, "Our men bombed Jingxi Park last night. I've already convinced Lou Bancheng. I'll find an opportunity to let you meet. From now on, you won't have to fight alone in the anti-Japanese activities in Beijing."

When Lao Yang heard the words "Jingxi Park," his eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

He quickly lowered his head, pretending that the sand had gotten into his eyes.

He heard the loud explosions last night too. He stood at home for a long time, looking in the direction of the fire, praying for his comrades in the bomb depot, thinking that they had probably already sacrificed their lives.

Now one of those people was standing in front of him, dressed in the uniform of the puppet army, leaning on a wooden stick, with a bandage wrapped around his left leg.

He wanted to cry. But he felt more ashamed.

He had been beaten by He Dajun several times before, and his head was still buzzing. Every night he thought about how to kill this traitor, and he felt that killing the traitor was the most important thing.

It has now been discovered that this person is not a traitor, but one of our own, a remarkable individual who managed to survive blowing up a Japanese ammunition depot.

Old Yang opened his mouth, his voice barely audible: "Captain He, who are you?"

He Dajun knew what he wanted to ask, and gently shook his head, his voice low: "I'm not a member of your party, but we have the same goal now. I met Bai Ling when we bombed the steel mill."

At this point, He Dajun's voice lowered, and he said, "It also led to the sacrifice of Tan Zhengyong and his son Tan Xiaoguang. Later, I avenged them."

Upon hearing the names Tan Zhengyong and his son, Old Yang swayed slightly.

Tan Zhengyong was one of their old comrades, and he knew that.

On the day the Japanese invaders entered the city, Tan Zhengyong and his son fought a battle with the Japanese in their own house to cover the retreat of their comrades. Both father and son were killed in the battle.

The fact that He Dajun could name those two names shows that he really knows Tan Zhengyong and that he really went through that day's events with Bai Ling.

He was also aware of the second battle that later took place at Tan Zhengyong's home.

Unexpectedly, it turned out to be He Dajun, the traitor he had always thought of.

At this point, He Dajun apologized, saying, "Boss Yang, I hope you don't mind how I hit you before."

What else could Lao Yang say? Of course, he absolutely didn't mind.

He Dajun didn't say anything more and turned to continue walking forward.

Old Yang followed behind him, his steps much lighter than before.

The two walked out of the alley and onto the main street. After walking a short distance, they arrived at the entrance of a pen and ink shop called "Bai Molin".

The storefront of the writing brush and ink shop was small, and the door panels had just been removed. Inside the shop, there were several rows of wooden shelves piled with all kinds of Xuan paper, yellow paper, writing brushes, and ink sticks.

A shopkeeper wearing reading glasses was sitting behind the counter flipping through account books when he heard a noise at the door and looked up.

He Dajun walked into the shop, leaning on his wooden cane. He nodded to the shopkeeper, his tone returning to the arrogant sycophantic manner of his former self: "Shopkeeper, I need paper. For writing notices, the cheapest yellow paper, give me a stack."

Old Yang stood behind He Dajun, head down, his expression much calmer than when he came out of the pharmacy.

I thought to myself, He Dajun is born to do underground work. He changes his expression so quickly and his acting skills are so good.