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

The snow melted and then froze again, making the roads muddy and impassable. When the reconnaissance company returned, they looked disheveled—nearly half their men were gone, and those who survived were all wounded, their cotton-padded clothes tattered, and their faces covered in gunpowder and exhaustion. But the things they dragged back caused a stir throughout the entire rear camp.

That was the equipment of an entire U.S. Army infantry regiment: dismantled heavy machine guns, mortars, bazookas, intact radios, mountains of helmets and ammunition, and several drivable jeeps and trucks. The items were haphazardly piled up, forming an iron mountain.

When the logistics director, Lao Li, handed over the equipment, his hands were trembling. He circled the equipment several times, exclaiming, "My God...did you empty the American military warehouse?"

Old Geng grinned, his lips chapped: "Almost. We'll take care of the warehouse guards too."

The battle report was relayed up the chain of command, each level conveying a sense of shock. Finally, it reached the headquarters of the Chinese People's Volunteer Army, where a commander held the telegram and pondered for a long time: "Is this He Weiguo the reincarnation of Sun Wukong, who caused havoc in the Heavenly Palace?"

The order to award the medal came quickly. The division headquarters held a celebration in the dugouts that had just been cleared. Other meritorious personnel lined up to receive their awards, and when it was He Yuzhu's turn, Division Commander Song personally handed him a small box with a red velvet lining.

"Special Merit." Division Commander Song's voice was not loud; the dugout was so quiet you could hear the crackling of the charcoal fire. "There are only a handful like this in the entire army this year. Comrade He Weiguo, you deserve it."

Inside the box was a gold star-shaped medal, cold and rough to the touch. He Yuzhu saluted and accepted it, followed by enthusiastic applause—but the applause carried complex emotions. There was envy, there was admiration, and perhaps something else, hidden behind those smiles and reddened hands.

The order for the promotion was announced separately after the meeting: a promotion to second lieutenant, made exceptionally. The reason given was "outstanding combat achievements and exceptional command ability." After reading it aloud, Division Commander Song patted him heavily on the shoulder: "Kid, your responsibilities are even heavier now. Nominally a second lieutenant, but in reality, you've been doing the work of a battalion commander for a long time. You need to be aware of that."

He Yuzhu nodded. This promotion was like a rocket launch, but compared to what he had done, the rank seemed too low.

The celebration party ended, leaving behind the lingering smells of cheap cigarette smoke and boiled sweet potatoes. Commander Song called him back, and the two walked outside the dugout. The sky was overcast, with low-hanging leaden clouds; it looked like it was going to snow again.

"Let's walk." Commander Song stepped onto the frozen ground with his hands behind his back. He Yuzhu followed half a step behind.

After walking several dozen meters, Commander Song finally spoke, his voice low and deep, as if pressed from his chest: "Today's celebration for you is truly meaningful. What you've done would have been enough to earn you a title and a high rank in ancient times." He paused, glancing sideways at He Yuzhu, "But as the old saying goes: 'The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind.'"

He Yuzhu's heart tightened, and his breathing slowed down.

"Your tactics," Commander Song carefully chose his words, "are too strange, too dangerous, too... unbelievable. Blowing up bridges, destroying radar, using infantry to delay tank battalions, and finally daring to drive enemy tanks to kick down the regimental headquarters... Each one of these could be written into a textbook on its own. But to pile them all on one person, and in just a few months, inevitably makes people think twice."

The cold wind whipped up the snow.

"Some comrades in the country who are engaged in theoretical research, after reading the battle report, discussed it privately and said that your fighting style is not like our native way, but rather... too advanced, even a bit 'wild'." Division Commander Song said slowly, "Some brother units fought hard and suffered heavy casualties. Seeing your brilliant achievements, they couldn't help but compare themselves and always wanted to know if you had 'special supplies'."

He stopped, turned around, and looked directly at He Yuzhu, his gaze sharp: "The most dangerous thing is the enemy's side. The US Eighth Army Command has issued a formal bounty on your head. Whether you're alive or dead, the price is frighteningly high. You are now not only our spearhead, but also a nail that the enemy must remove."

He Yuzhu listened in silence. Even without Commander Song saying it, he could sense these words. The tactical advantages brought by the system were like torches in the darkness, illuminating the path and attracting all eyes.

"Commander, I..." He wanted to say something, but was stopped by raising his hand.

"No need to explain how you did it." Commander Song waved his hand. "In all my years of leading troops, I've seen talented people, but I've never seen anyone as unconventional as you. I don't care if you're a born general or have a master mentor behind you. I only recognize one thing: the enemy you fought was real; the soldiers you led trusted and obeyed you; and the spoils you captured genuinely strengthened our forces. That's enough."

He then changed the subject, his tone becoming more serious: "But others may not think that way. Especially... some comrades responsible for ideological work and internal security. The greater the merit, the more one must withstand scrutiny. The taller the tree, the more the wind will blow; you are now the tallest tree."

As if to confirm Commander Song's words, Wang Fuli came to his door the next day. This time he wasn't wearing his glasses, and his eyes no longer held the complex emotions of before, only a serious, businesslike demeanor. The meeting took place in He Yuzhu's simple company headquarters shack; even Old Geng was politely asked to leave.

"Comrade He Weiguo," Wang Fuli said bluntly, opening his new notebook, "According to instructions from higher command, we need to gain a deeper understanding of your extraordinary tactical capabilities demonstrated in various battles, especially recently. Please assist in writing a detailed report on the formation and development of your personal tactical thinking. The more detailed, the better."

He added, "Including but not limited to: sources of tactical inspiration, how to learn and master unconventional warfare skills, how to view modern warfare, and suggestions for the future development of our military's guerrilla and raiding operations."

The shack was dimly lit, with only a sliver of sunlight filtering through the ventilation holes, and dust motes drifted slowly in the beam of light.

He Yuzhu looked at Wang Fuli, who did not flinch. A silent tension hung in the air. He Yuzhu understood that this was no longer a simple inquiry—this was formal procedure. The "convenience" brought by the system had finally elicited the most logical reaction: scrutiny and suspicion.

"How long will the report take?" He Yuzhu asked calmly.

"As soon as possible. The content must be substantial and based on evidence." Wang Fuli closed his notebook. "This is part of the organizational procedure, and also to better summarize and promote your experience. Of course, it's also about being responsible to our comrades."

"I understand," He Yuzhu nodded. "I will write it as soon as possible."

Wang Fuli seemed to want to say something more, but in the end he just nodded and left. Only He Yuzhu and that wisp of light remained in the shack.

He sat down at the "table" made of wooden planks, his fingers unconsciously tapping the rough wood grain. Write a report? How? Did he have some kind of system in his head that could exchange knowledge for tactical predictions? If so, he'd be sent to the research lab the next second.

He had to fabricate a story, make it plausible, and make it self-consistent. This was more exhausting than fighting a war.

Just as I was getting irritable, the system notification sounded in my mind with unprecedented clarity—no longer cold, but with an indescribable sense of rhythm.

[Host's battlefield points have exceeded 1,000,000 for the first time.]

[Achieving a milestone: Savings of one million.]

[Promotion to Second Lieutenant, Points Bonus: +25000 points.]

Based on a comprehensive evaluation (tactical innovation, scale of results, and impact), a special achievement reward of +250000 points will be awarded.

Current points: 1,224,398.

Main quest progress: 1.224%

[Total points accumulated trigger system accessibility upgrade...]

[Enable: 'Basic Tech Tree Preview' feature.]

[Note: This feature provides a vague preview of the main branches of the future advanced technology tree (energy, materials, information, biology, etc.), but does not allow viewing specific technical details or direct redemption. It aims to broaden the host's strategic vision.]

[New addition to the shop: 'Non-combat Supplies' section.]

[Note: This item can be exchanged for basic necessities (food, oil, cloth, medicine, etc.) that are in short supply in this era. After exchange, the system will provide suggestions on reasonable 'appearance' channels (such as disguising it as spoils from enemy-occupied territory, donations from friendly caravans, anonymous delivery, etc.). The host must arrange the receipt and risk avoidance themselves.]

1.22 million points! Breaking the million mark! Main quest completion rate surpassed 1%. The huge rewards and new features have lessened concerns about censorship.

A tech tree preview? Although it's only a general overview, it's enough to grasp the future technological trajectory, its value immeasurable. The non-combat supplies section… He Yuzhu's gaze lingered there, his heart pounding.

Grain, oil, cloth, medicine... courtyard house... rainwater and old lady...

His gaze calmed. The road ahead held both honor and suspicion. The ties he carried might find new anchors. These million-plus points and the newly unlocked features were like hidden trump cards, giving him more confidence to face the storms.

The report needs to be written, the battle still needs to be fought, and we also need to find a way to make life better.

He got up and walked to the entrance of the shack, looking at the fine snow falling outside.

If you think you're the best tree in the forest, then grow stronger and have deeper roots. Let the wind come if it wants to.