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

He Dajun, leaning on his wooden cane, strode over, his face plastered with the standard respectful expression, and asked the old lady what she needed to do.

Suzuki closed the folder and said that Major Sasaki was waiting for him in his office.

He Dajun responded and walked towards the office building, leaning on his wooden cane.

Halfway there, he saw several Japanese soldiers unloading things from a truck: several boxes of ammunition and two Type 96 light machine guns.

He Dajun paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the two machine guns for a second, before continuing to walk forward.

Sasaki's office was filled with smoke. The ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts, the tea had gone cold and no one had changed it, and the windows were closed.

Sasaki sat behind the desk, with a newly printed report spread out on the table in front of him—the same detailed report that Yamazaki had delivered that morning.

He was reading a report when he heard a knock on the door and looked up.

He Dajun pushed open the door and bowed. Sasaki asked him to sit down, then leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on He Dajun's face for a long while.

He Dajun felt a little uneasy under his gaze, but his respectful expression remained unchanged.

"He Dajun, have you heard about what happened outside the city last night?" Sasaki asked, his voice low but his tone heavy.

He Dajun naturally said he hadn't heard of it; how could he possibly have?

Sasaki then said that the losses would be greatly reduced, and the Japanese only lost more than fifty men.

He Dajun's expression instantly switched to shock and anger. He said, "Sir, these resistance fighters are too rampant. They actually dared to attack the Imperial Army's camp outside the city. They are simply lawless. They should all be arrested and shot."

He spoke through gritted teeth, spittle practically flying from his mouth, a spitting image of a lackey furious at his master's loss.

Sasaki, seeing his impassioned manner, did not interrupt, but simply continued to stare at his face.

After He Dajun finished speaking, Sasaki suddenly asked a question completely unrelated to the outside world: "He Dajun, how many puppet troops do you have now?"

He Dajun was stunned for a moment, then immediately reported the number: 1,523 people.

Sasaki nodded and said that starting today, the puppet army would be expanded to two thousand men. The military had already approved it, and the weapons and funds would be allocated in the next couple of days.

He Dajun's face immediately lit up with ecstatic joy, and he bowed deeply, repeatedly saying thank you, Sir.

His voice carried a perfectly timed sob, like a servant moved to tears of gratitude after being promoted by his master.

Sasaki looked at him, a slight smile appearing on his lips.

The smile was faint, so faint that it was almost imperceptible, but He Dajun caught it.

He knew what Sasaki was laughing about. This man had already considered him one of the Imperial Army's own, and the kind of one who could be reused and was worth cultivating.

Expanding the puppet army and increasing funding for weapons were not rewards for him, but rather a way to increase the stakes in the campaign to suppress resistance fighters.

He Dajun was the hunting dog chosen to carry out this hunt.

"He Dajun, how's your leg injury?" Sasaki suddenly changed the subject, his tone filled with concern.

He Dajun immediately stood up, took a few steps around the office with his cane, and said that he was much better and would be able to go without crutches after a few more days of rest.

Sasaki nodded and said, "That's good. The Imperial Army needs you to recover as soon as possible. The upcoming search mission will be very demanding." He Dajun bowed and said, "Don't worry, sir. Even if my leg isn't fully healed, I'll lead the search with my crutches."

Sasaki waved him away.

He Dajun bent over and retreated to the doorway. Just as he was about to turn around, Sasaki called him back. "He Dajun, it's said that the attackers outside the city last night numbered less than a hundred."

Sasaki's voice came from behind, "They are very powerful, so they need your puppet troops, and they also need weapons."

He Dajun's expression changed instantly, from surprise to confusion, and then from confusion to certainty. He said it couldn't be the Japanese. How could a hundred men kill more than fifty Imperial Army soldiers? There must be a mistake.

Sasaki looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, then said maybe, and added, "Don't tell anyone about this."

He Dajun bent down and left the office, then limped down the corridor with a wooden cane, down the stairs, and into the ruins in the factory area that were somewhat blindingly bright in the sunlight.

Behind him, on the second floor, Sasaki was standing next to the curtains, looking at his back through the glass.

He Dajun didn't turn around, but he knew those eyes were watching him.

He continued walking forward, leaning on his wooden cane, his pace neither fast nor slow. The tapping sound of the cane on the gravel carried far through the empty factory area, just like always.

……

Lou Bancheng didn't sleep well again.

It's simply unbelievable that the main force of the Japanese army was ambushed again.

So for the next few days, when Lou Bancheng closed his eyes, his mind kept replaying the words He Dajun had said in his study last time.

However, Lou Bancheng's insomnia is quite different from the Japanese soldier's insomnia.

At least Lou Bancheng is open.

After work that day, Old Yang appeared in the courtyard of the siheyuan (traditional courtyard house) carrying his medicine box.

His current role is He Dajun's "family doctor," and he comes every two days to change the dressing on He Dajun's leg.

Xiao Zhou was still watching over things at the pharmacy. Old Yang always had a legitimate reason for going out, so the Japanese spies wouldn't suspect anything.

Old Yang went into the side room, put his medicine box on the table, took out gauze and wound medicine, and pretended to change He Dajun's dressing.

He Dajun asked Bai Ling to keep watch at the door, then lowered his voice and told Lao Yang about his plan.

Old Yang listened as he changed the dressing.

He Dajun's idea was to write a note. The content was very simple, just two sentences: "Those who offend our Great Xia, though far away, shall be punished. Kill one citizen of the Four Nine Cities, and kill ten people from the Sakura Kingdom."

The note doesn't need to be spread too widely, but it must be seen by the Japanese.

The best way is to stick it on the wall at the entrance of the military camp, or sandwich it between the grain bags of the grain transport truck.

As long as a few Japanese soldiers see it, the news will spread throughout the military camp.

After hearing this, Old Yang paused for a moment while applying the gauze in his hand.

He said that writing notes was easy, but should they really post them? The Japanese were searching the whole city for resistance fighters, and it was too risky to post notes now. If they were caught, not only would the person who posted the notes suffer, but everyone on the same line would be caught.

He Dajun assured him that he didn't need their people to put up the stickers; he would do it himself.

He only needed Lao Yang to do two things: first, to spread the contents of the note through underground channels so that the people would know that this was about resisting the military and that someone was backing them up.

Second, have Lao Yang's men keep an eye on the Japanese reaction, to see if the Japanese have increased patrols or conducted internal investigations after the note was posted.

Old Yang hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded, packed up his medicine box, and carried it out of the courtyard.

That evening, He Dajun redeemed a set of Japanese military uniforms from the system, changed into them, and climbed over the courtyard wall to go out the door.

He had twenty written notes in his pocket. He followed the route he knew well to the outer walls of two nearby Japanese barracks and pasted the notes on the walls in the most conspicuous places.

They then went around to the entrance of another Japanese outpost, folded a few pieces of paper into small squares, and stuffed them into the bed of a Japanese tricycle.

The notes were discovered early the next morning.