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

Chapter 218 Undercurrents Rise Again

The sun in the first month of the lunar calendar hangs in the west, providing light but no warmth.

He Yuzhu stood in the yard holding He Nianhua. The little one was nestled on her father's shoulder, blowing bubbles and her eyes were half-closed, almost asleep. In the distance, children in the alley were setting off firecrackers, the sound muffled every now and then.

When Lao Sun appeared at the door, He Yuzhu was rubbing his chin against his daughter's face. He looked up, saw Lao Sun's expression, and paused for a moment.

Without asking, he simply handed the child to Qin Huairu, who was standing next to him.

"Go inside."

Qin Huairu took the child, glanced at him, said nothing, and turned to enter the west wing. The door closed.

He Yuzhu walked to the door.

Old Sun stood outside the threshold, not coming in. A gust of wind blew, lifting a corner of the hem of his coat.

"Three days," Old Sun said in a low voice, "and changed four faces. Some were from far away, some from nearby."

He Yuzhu stared at him.

"Who are we going to attack?"

Old Sun did not answer.

He Yuzhu asked again.

"Who are we going to attack?"

Old Sun shook his head. "I don't know. But either they're scouting the location, or they're waiting for something."

He Yuzhu clenched his fist inside his sleeve. He glanced back at the window of the west wing. The curtains were drawn, obscuring the view inside.

Where is Yang Xiaobing?

"They've already brought people over," Old Sun said. "From today onwards, there will be people around your compound 24 hours a day."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Old Sun looked at him and waited a few seconds.

"Old He, you need to be careful. Those people might be after you."

That evening, He Yuzhu sat alone in the west wing.

The light was still on, just left burning. Qin Huairu was fast asleep, her breathing steady. He Nianhua lay beside her, her little mouth moving slightly, probably dreaming of something delicious.

He sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), looking at the two faces.

The oil lamp flickered, casting their shadows on the wall. He remembered that year at Chosin Reservoir, lying in the snow waiting for the bugle call, wondering what life would be like if he could make it back alive.

There is now.

He reached out to touch his daughter's face, then pulled his hand back.

My hand remained suspended in mid-air for a long time.

As dawn approached, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

Starting the next day, He Yuzhu rarely went home.

He spent his days at the research institute and his nights sleeping on the sofa in his office. Yang Xiaobing called him every day, saying that everything was normal at the institute, that his sister-in-law was asking why he wasn't coming home, and that his daughter missed him.

He listened without saying a word.

On the seventh night, the phone rang.

Yang Xiaobing's voice was very low, but he couldn't suppress his energy.

"Commander, we've got him."

He Yuzhu held the microphone but remained silent.

Yang Xiaobing continued, "Just now, a man sneaked into the yard and we subdued him. We found a knife and a rope on him."

He Yuzhu remained silent for two seconds.

"Has it been reviewed?"

"Old Sun is being interrogated. He's pretty stubborn."

He Yuzhu stood up.

"I'll be right there."

The lights in the interrogation room were blindingly bright.

The man sat in the chair, around forty years old, thin, with a scar on his face. He was handcuffed, head down, and silent. The lamplight cast his long shadow on the wall, like a blob of indistinguishable ink.

Old Sun sat opposite him and lit a cigarette. The ash fell to the ground, but he ignored it.

"Who sent you?"

The man didn't say anything.

Old Sun flicked off the ashes from his cigarette.

"The blacksmith's man?"

The man's eyelid twitched.

He Yuzhu stood at the door, looking at that face. Thin, scarred, with a fierce look in his eyes. He pushed the door open and went in, sitting down opposite the man.

The man looked up and glanced at him.

"You served in the military?" He Yuzhu asked.

The person did not answer.

He Yuzhu pointed at his hand. "There's old skin on the tiger's mouth. He's touched a gun."

The man's lips twitched slightly.

"The Korean War?" He Yuzhu asked again, "Or our side?"

The man didn't speak, but he narrowed his eyes.

Old Sun said from the side, "He's very stubborn. We asked him all night, but he wouldn't say anything."

He Yuzhu ignored him and continued to look at the man.

"Did the blacksmith send you?"

The man's eyes narrowed again.

"Tying my wife? Tying my daughter?"