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

The horrific scene in the tunnels and the sacrifices of the transport team seared He Yuzhu's heart like a red-hot iron day and night. During the day, he stared at the two hills on the map that had been repeatedly crossed out, his fingers grinding the pencil; at night, all he could see when he closed his eyes were sunken eye sockets and chapped lips.

We can't force them to give it away anymore.

He gritted his teeth and swallowed the thought. Using living people to fill the tunnel blocked by artillery fire in exchange for a few more breaths in the trench—it was too much of a loss, a loss that made his heart clench.

We must change our approach. We must use a smaller cost to ensure that even the enemy occupying the surface positions cannot have peace.

The entire regiment's sharpshooters, mortar specialists, and veteran recoilless riflemen were re-selected and grouped into about twenty teams. Teams consisted of two people, either a gunner and an observer, or a gunner and a guard. The equipment was the best available: Mosin-Nagant rifles with scopes and mortars that could still fire. Ammunition was used sparingly, but every shot was required to hit a valuable target.

"Don't seize the hilltops." He Yuzhu was holding a meeting in a bunker behind the regimental headquarters, half of which had collapsed. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a fierce edge. "Just keep an eye on them. Whoever loiters on the position, whoever points fingers, whoever alerts the artillery—knock them out. If there's no chance during the day, go at night. Use mortars specifically to target groups of people and piles of ammunition. Hit them and run."

His gaze swept over the faces roughened by gunpowder: "Think of the brothers in the tunnels. The more of them we take down outside, the more breathing space they have inside."

No one spoke, but the light slowly returned to those eyes that had been worn down by days of bloody battles.

After assigning the tasks, He Yuzhu himself didn't sit idle either.

He picked out a well-maintained Mosin-Nagant sniper rifle, checked the scope, and loaded enough ammunition. The observer, Xiaoshan, was a sharp-eyed and agile recruit, though still a bit slow on the uptake.

Instead of going to the rear, he chose a secluded crevice less than 800 meters from the front. This place was risky, but it offered a wide view—he had noticed it when digging the tunnel: the rocks protruded like natural eaves, and two people could barely lie down underneath. In front, there were jumbled rocks and weeds, making it impossible to spot until you got close.

Xiao Shan lay prone beside him, barely daring to breathe. He Yuzhu ignored him, set up his gun, pressed his cheek against the cold stock, and peered through the scope.

The world suddenly shrank closer.

The shattered slope, the machine gun nests built by the enemy with sandbags, and the soldiers sitting by the shell crater smoking were all so clear that they seemed within reach.

He regulated his breathing, calming his heartbeat. His ears filtered out the distant, sporadic artillery fire, his mind completely focused on the crosshairs. First target: the guy behind the machine gun emplacement, pointing with a small notebook; his movements suggested he was a sergeant major. Approximately 650 meters away. A light breeze, from left to right.

Preload the trigger, feel the slight resistance, and then smoothly apply more force.

boom!

The gunshots carried far in the early morning silence. Through the scope, the sergeant looked as if struck head-on by an invisible hammer, jerking backward as his notebook flew from his hand. The soldier smoking nearby froze for a second, then scrambled for cover, throwing the machine gun emplacement into chaos.

Xiaoshan let out a soft "Ah" beside him, suppressing his excitement.

"Make a note of one." He Yuzhu's voice remained unchanged as he shed the shell, pulled the bolt, and continued searching with his eyes.

The sniping and sniping started.

During the day, if the enemy even peeked out from their surface positions, bullets or mortar shells could fly in from any direction. While setting up antennas, someone was sniped; while organizing patrols, someone stepped on a tripwire; during mealtimes, artillery shells landed right next to the cooking pot.

He Yuzhu was like a patient leopard, lurking in the crevices of rocks. He specifically chose valuable targets: signalmen waving flags, artillery observers fiddling with observation equipment, and junior officers trying to organize defenses. His marksmanship had transcended technique, becoming almost instinctive—distance, wind speed, humidity, target movement, the data was instantly calculated in his mind, translating into a slight contraction of the muscles in his fingers.

By the end of the day, he had confirmed eleven sniper kills, including a lieutenant who had been observing this direction with binoculars for a long time.

The results were significant, but he knew he was being watched.

Sure enough, late in the afternoon, just as he removed his scope from a soldier repairing a telephone line, a chill ran down his spine, as if he were being watched by a venomous snake.

Without thinking, he jerked his body to the right.

laugh!

The bullet grazed the spot where his head had been, then struck a rock behind him, sending sparks flying and splattering his face with rock fragments.

"A master." He Yuzhu's heart skipped a beat. The opponent was incredibly patient, waiting until he fired to reveal his approximate location before unleashing this fatal blow. The gunshot was muffled—it had been fitted with an excellent silencer.

"Xiaoshan, don't move!" he whispered, stopping the observer who was trying to look up. He slowly shrank back into the deepest part of the crevice, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Life and death hung in the balance.

The enemy stopped firing, clearly waiting or changing position. He Yuzhu knew he had encountered a true comrade, and one specifically targeting him. He couldn't stay in this position any longer.

He carefully observed the slope ahead and potential sniping positions. The enemy was well-hidden, leaving no trace. Time passed, the setting sun dyed the hillside a dark red, and the shadows lengthened.

You only get one chance.

In the distance, one of our mortars fired several shells deep into enemy territory. The smoke and dust from the explosions were blown by the wind and spread throughout the area.

It's now!

He stomped his heel against the hill: "Retreat! Zigzag, quick!" Before he finished speaking, he had already darted out of the crevice like a cat, gun in hand, and, under the cover of the thickening dust, rushed diagonally towards a larger area of ​​collapsed rocks to his left. The hill froze for a moment, then scrambled to follow.

Smoke and dust obscured their figures, but movement remained dangerous. At least two bullets struck the vicinity of their previous hiding place—the enemy reacted extremely quickly.

He rushed into the rocky area and immediately hid behind a waist-high rock, panting heavily, his ears perked up, ready to catch any sound. Xiaoshan followed, his face deathly pale.

The duel wasn't over; it had simply entered a more complex terrain. He Yuzhu forced himself to stay calm, thinking like a hunter: the location where the opponent had fired, the wind direction, the possible movement routes... He extremely slowly peeked out from the edge of the rock, quickly scanning the predicted points with his scope.

Nothing was found. The other party is even more well hidden.

The sky grew darker. He Yuzhu suddenly noticed an inconspicuous gap about seventy meters to his right front, in a pile of collapsed fortification ruins, the angle of which perfectly covered his hiding place and part of this rocky area.

That's the perfect place to hide a sniper.

He didn't aim directly—that would give him away. Instead, he quietly grabbed a small stone from the side and threw it a few meters to his left.

The stone landed on the broken tiles with a soft clatter.

Almost simultaneously, a barely perceptible metallic glint flashed through the gaps in the ruins—a scope!

It's now!

He Yuzhu suddenly leaned out from the right side of the rock, pointing the gun at the gap with almost instinctive speed. In the instant before his body was fully stable, he pulled the trigger, relying on muscle memory and the extraordinary visual capture brought by his eagle eye!

boom!

As the gun fired, he used the recoil to fall back into cover. Silence fell over the rubble.

Two or three minutes passed without any movement. He Yuzhu slowly crawled over, very carefully.

In a crevice of the ruins, a body dressed in tattered camouflage lay slumped, a clear bloody hole in its forehead, its Garand rifle still pointing in the direction the stone had fallen. It was a white man, his face etched with deep lines, and he was quite old. The insignia on his chest indicated he was a World War II veteran.

He Yuzhu silently watched for a few seconds, then took off the other party's identity tag and some other potentially useful items before turning and leaving.

As night fell, the sniping and killing continued.

When the battle results were tallied, He Yuzhu was staring at the two hills on the map. His fingers unconsciously ran over the rough paper, where pencil marks had worn the edges. He thought of the wrinkles on the faces of the old soldiers in the cracks of the ruins, and the eyes yearning for survival deep in the tunnels.

War is never just about increasing or decreasing numbers.

But the numbers still came in: the number of enemy soldiers killed or wounded in the sniper and sniper operations he commanded and personally participated in was astonishing.

[Commanding and personally participating in highly effective sniper and artillery tactics, inflicting heavy casualties on enemy personnel and technical units occupying surface positions, greatly delaying enemy operations, and supporting the tunnel defenders.]

[Personal sniping skills reach a pinnacle in life-or-death duels, significantly enhancing combat effectiveness.]

Based on outstanding achievements of the day (including the elimination of elite enemy snipers and numerous valuable targets), gain battlefield points: +450,000 (dynamic efficiency bonus in effect).

Battlefield Points: 6,588,398 + 450,000 = 7,038,398 points.

The points have surpassed the seven million mark.

He Yuzhu closed his eyes. The sound of the gunshot whizzing past his head still seemed to echo in his ears, and the moment his heart almost stopped when he pulled the trigger.

The hunt will continue tomorrow.

The brothers in the tunnels can at least catch their breath a few more times tonight.