Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

The midday notice was a thin piece of paper, printed with a red header and stamped with an official seal. An official from the neighborhood committee personally delivered it to the courtyard, his voice booming: "Comrade He Weiguo has honorably enlisted in the army—"

Several families in the courtyard strained their ears to listen.

The note contained only a few words: Meet at Yongdingmen Railway Station at 6:00 AM, three days from now. Attached was a brief list of items.

He Yuzhu accepted the notification and thanked him. His face was calm, but his fingers, gripping the edge of the paper, were taut and white.

It's really time to go.

Three days wasn't enough time. On the first day, he went to Fengzeyuan to resign. Manager Zhou was stunned for a long time, then patted him hard on the shoulder: "Good lad! You have ambition!" Before leaving, he insisted on giving him twenty yuan, along with a large bowl of braised beef and a sesame seed cake, "Eat on the way."

He Yuzhu didn't refuse. He accepted the money and food; it was what he deserved, and it was also a favor for the future.

The next day, he tidied up the west wing. The room was empty, and he divided the pile of cotton in the corner into two parts. He wrapped the larger part, along with the pair of little leather shoes he hadn't given away, in an old bed sheet. He planned to stuff the smaller part into his clothes—it was cold up north, much colder than Beijing, he'd heard.

Things that can't be exposed to light need to be dealt with. After locking the door at dusk, he took out thirty silver dollars and eight catties of flour from the system. The flour was packed tightly into a coarse cloth bag. The silver dollars were divided into two portions: twenty-five were wrapped tightly in oiled paper, and five were wrapped separately.

As night deepened, he quietly carried the package to the backyard.

An oil lamp shone dimly in the deaf old woman's room. Rainwater was fast asleep in the corner of the kang (heated brick bed), his small face peaceful. The old woman sat on the edge of the kang, as if waiting for him.

He Yuzhu put down the large package, untied it, revealing silver dollars and flour. The small cloth bag was placed on top of the flour bag.

"Grandma," he said in a low voice, "twenty-five silver dollars and eight catties of wheat flour. Please keep them. You and I need to eat. Mix the wheat flour with other foods; it will keep us full. The silver dollars are for emergencies, so don't be stingy."

The old woman stared at the ground. The silver coin gleamed dimly under the lamplight. She didn't move, only asking, "And what about you?"

He Yuzhu picked up the small cloth bag: "I kept five yuan, enough for the journey."

The old woman was silent for a moment, then her gaze shifted to his face. The boy's features were still there, but his eyes had hardened and deepened, like a stone polished smooth at the bottom of a river.

"I'll keep the things," the old woman said, her voice dry. "They're not for me, they're for the rain. You know what I mean."

He Yuzhu nodded: "Take a look at the west wing when you have time, and don't let anyone occupy it. The furniture inside isn't worth much; it's just something to remember the place by."

"With me here, no one can touch me." The old lady spoke calmly, yet with a heavy heart.

Just then, Yushui stirred. She groggily opened her eyes, saw He Yuzhu, rubbed her eyes, crawled over, and snuggled into his arms. Her little hands wrapped around his neck, and she rested her head on his shoulder. The child smelled of soap and a faint scent of milk.

"Rain, I'm going on a long trip the day after tomorrow." He Yuzhu hugged her tightly, his chin rubbing against her soft hair.

"Where to? How long?" Rain looked up, her eyes still drowsy.

"Go join the army and fight bad guys. How long... I don't know, but I'll definitely come back. When I come back, I'll be a hero, and I'll bring lots of steamed buns for Yushui, as many as he wants."

"Hero..." Yu Shui murmured repeatedly, seemingly not understanding the weight of the word, but she understood "for a long time" and "come back." Her little mouth trembled, her eyes instantly reddened, and she clung tightly to his neck, her voice trembling with tears: "Brother, don't go... I'm scared... Dad's gone, and you're going too..."

He Yuzhu's throat tightened. He patted Yushui's back, again and again. "Yushui, don't be afraid, I'm not your father. I promise you, I'll come back. Stay home, listen to Grandma, eat and sleep well, and wait for me to come back, okay?"

Rainwater buried her face in his shoulder, and she sobbed softly. Tears quickly soaked his thin clothes. He Yuzhu held her, letting her cry. At the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), the deaf old woman turned her face away and wiped the corner of her eye with her rough hands.

After an unknown amount of time, Yu Shui cried herself to sleep, sobbing softly, tears still clinging to her eyelashes. He Yuzhu carefully placed her back in bed, tucked her in, and gently kissed her forehead.

He got up. The old lady also got off the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), walked to the old cabinet, fumbled around for a while, and took out a pair of brand-new cloth shoes with a thousand-layer sole. The soles were tightly stitched with fine and even stitches, and the uppers were made of dark blue coarse cloth, sturdy and heavy.

"Take this," the old lady said, shoving the shoes into his hand. "Wear these on the road. The shoes issued by the army aren't as comfortable and gentle on your feet as these."

He Yuzhu took the shoes. The cloth shoes were heavy, still warm from the old man's hands. He didn't say thank you, only nodded emphatically.

"I won't say anything else," the old woman looked at him, her cloudy eyes unusually clear under the light, "just one thing: Zhu Zi, come back alive. Forget about being a hero or a coward, being alive is more important than anything. Do you hear me?"

He Yuzhu's Adam's apple bobbed: "I heard you."

He took one last look at the sleeping Yushui, then turned around, picked up the empty bundle, and walked out of the house.

It was late at night, and the courtyard was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat. He didn't go back to the west wing, but instead knelt down straight on the muddy ground outside the old deaf woman's room, where the eaves cast shadows.

There were no words. He bent down, his forehead touching the cold, hard earth, and solemnly kowtowed three times.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The dull thud struck the silent night, and it also struck his heart.

The first thing is to thank the old lady for taking in and protecting me, and for entrusting me with such a heavy responsibility.

The second prayer is to God, if He can hear this, that Yu Shui grows up safely.

The third head is for myself. This journey is fraught with peril, a path fraught with danger and war; I may risk my life there, but what must be done must be accomplished.

After kowtowing three times, he stood up. His knees were covered in mud, and his forehead was marked with red welts. He neither patted nor rubbed them.

The moment he stood up straight—

An invisible barrier shattered with a deafening roar.

A majestic, cold, and cruel will suddenly descended. The azure system screen in his mind trembled violently, and all daily interfaces and exchange lists instantly dimmed and shrank, receding to the periphery. Occupying the center of his entire visual field were lines of dark gold characters, seemingly forged from blood and steel, slowly unfolding with absolute authority:

[Prerequisites met.]

[World line convergence confirmed.]

[War mobilization order in effect.]

[Main Storyline Sole Mission - Phase One: Ironclad Foundation - Officially Activated!]

[Mission Objective: Within the timeframe of the Korean War, accumulate 100,000,000 battlefield points.]

[Points Acquisition Rules (Battlefield Kills/Contributions):]

Private: 10 o'clock

Private First Class: 50 points

Corporal: 100 points

Sergeant: 150 points

Sergeant: 200 points

Second Lieutenant: 250 points

Lieutenant: 300 points

Captain: 350 points

Major: 100,000 points

Lieutenant Colonel: 200,000 points

Colonel: 300,000 points

Senior Colonel: 400,000 points

Major General: 500,000 points

Lieutenant General: 1,000,000 points

General: 10,000,000 points

[Note: Participation in/leading of campaigns of varying scales will earn additional points based on contribution.]

[Mission Period: From the date of crossing the Yalu River until the armistice agreement takes effect.]

[Failure Penalty: Host existence erased.]

[Current points reset.]

[Initial Battlefield Score: 0]

[Target: 100,000,000]

[Battlefield Exchange System Launched Simultaneously...]

[Special Note: Killing is a means to survival and for completing missions, not an end in itself. Stay true to yourself.]

The dark gold text slowly faded away, but the number "one hundred million" and the six words "existential erasure" were like a red-hot branding iron, deeply etched into the depths of He Yuzhu's consciousness.

The original points (9123) did not disappear, but were reclassified into the "Non-Battlefield Resources" category, clearly distinguishing them from the brutal battlefield points that start from zero.

The night wind blew, stirring up dust.

He Yuzhu stood in the courtyard, looking up at the sky. The dark sky was devoid of stars and moon. He turned and walked towards the west wing, his footsteps firm and heavy on the ground.

The last bit of warmth in his eyes seemed to vanish completely with the three kowtows and the activation of the system, turning into ice and iron.

He Yuzhu stayed in this courtyard house.

He Weiguo, it's time to get going.