Chapter 84: New forces join forces to resist the external enemy

Zhao Jianguo pushed open the door; the coal basket still leaned crookedly in the corner, and the enamel basin on the table gave off a hint of steam. He didn't sit, nor take off his coat, but pulled the door shut from inside, though not tightly. This action made him pause for a moment—just earlier in the meeting he had said to heighten vigilance, yet upon returning he forgot.

He turned and walked into the courtyard, just running into Sha Zhu coming out of the kitchen, holding a large tea kettle; the steam blew into his face, making him squint.

"You really don't take a break?" Sha Zhu grinned. "Just now I was sweating buckets; you spoke like you were reading a report, not a single breathless word."

"Can't rest." Zhao Jianguo shook his head. "Yi Zhonghai's been caught, but has the thread behind him been cut? Who dares say?"

Sha Zhu froze, the tea kettle hanging midair, a splash of water sloshing out and scalding his hand, making him jerk.

"You mean... there's still someone?"

"Not just." Zhao Jianguo lifted his eyes and scanned the courtyard. "He could hide in the factory for thirty years, stage an 'accident' in the boiler room, write a blood letter in the labor reform farm to pass secret codes—do you think someone like that would only place one pawn?"

Sha Zhu didn't speak, but the ease on his face vanished instantly.

Zhao Jianguo took two steps forward, lowering his voice: "The door not being closed isn't trivial; it's a warning. We're not investigating old scores now—we're dealing with living people. If they want to turn the tables, the first place they'll strike is here—once people's hearts are in turmoil, even denunciation letters become scrap paper."

Sha Zhu stared at him for two seconds, then set the tea kettle on the windowsill: "Tell me what to do—I'll follow you."

Just as his words fell, Dong Xu also came out of the East Room, holding an old notebook, flipping through it as he walked. He'd been sorting through his father's belongings these past days; some blurred slips of paper he traced over with a pencil.

"I just turned to a page," he said, approaching. "It's a work note my father wrote in 1962, with a strange line: 'At midnight the lamp goes out, a shadow in the west wing—I dare not ask.'"

Zhao Jianguo took the notebook, frowning: "West wing? Not the west storehouse?"

"The character is 'wing', not 'storehouse,'" Dong Xu said firmly. "My father writes slowly, stroke by stroke—he wouldn't make a mistake."

Zhao Jianguo said nothing, his mind racing. "The moon sets over the west storehouse, the lamp goes out and people die"—that's the line from Yi Zhonghai's blood letter. But Jia Wu's notes read, "A shadow in the west wing." One character different, and the place changes.

"Could it be a mistake?" Sha Zhu asked.

"My father wouldn't," Dong Xu said decisively. "He even records how many baskets of coal he burns each day—could he be careless about this?"

Zhao Jianguo returned the notebook, took a deep breath: "Whether it's a mistake or not, this shows one thing—that night, more than one place was off. We've only been watching the boiler room, but the enemy might have acted elsewhere too."

The three stood in the central courtyard, nobody moving.

At that moment, Yanbugui hobbled out from the west room leaning on a bamboo pole, his ears still sharp: "What are you muttering about? Is there still something you haven't spelled out?"

Zhao Jianguo glanced at him: "You used to be in charge of joint defense, didn't you?"

"That was back in 1958," Yanbugui sighed. "They stopped doing it later."

"But the experience remains." Zhao Jianguo said bluntly. "Now people's hearts are unsettled in the courtyard; relying only on the Security Department to watch the gate can't stop covert moves. I have an idea—let's organize ourselves to guard this courtyard."

Yanbugui blinked: "You mean... set up a team?"

"Let's call it the Siheyuan Self-Defense Team." Zhao Jianguo nodded. "We're not out to arrest anyone or earn merit—just one rule: whoever wants to mess with us has to get past us first."

Sha Zhu's eyes lit up at once: "That's a great name! Sounds tough! I'm signing up!"

"I'll join too," Dong Xu added. "I have to guard what my father failed to protect."

Yanbugui stroked his chin, then laughed: "Sure, old as I am, I can still be team leader once more? Then I won't be vague—I'll take the roll, note who's on duty, who's absent, and keep everything clear."

Zhao Jianguo nodded: "Then let's decide now. I'll coordinate, Uncle Yan will handle the roster, Sha Zhu and Dong Xu as captain and vice-captain, and we'll start the shifts tonight."

"How should we schedule the patrols?" Sha Zhu asked.

"Two shifts." Zhao Jianguo gestured with his hand. "First shift from dark to midnight, second shift from midnight to dawn. Each shift has two people—one guards the gate, one patrols the courtyard. If something's amiss, blow the whistle as a signal, and everyone else gets up immediately."

"What about the whistle?" Sha Zhu scratched his head. "We can't just shout with our mouths, can we?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't answer, turned back inside, and came out again holding several small cloth bundles. He opened one, pouring out a few copper bells, a few small mirrors, and a few brass whistles.

"Where'd you get those?" Sha Zhu glared.

"Turned up at home," Zhao Jianguo said offhand. "Old junk, not showy but handy to use. Hang the bells on the wall corner—they'll ring when the wind blows; put the mirrors on the window sill—at night, shine a flashlight on them and the reflection shows the wall base; give each person a whistle, our secret signal—one short blast means all clear, two long blasts means someone's approaching, three rapid blasts means assemble immediately."

Sha Zhu picked up a whistle and gave it a blow; its piercing sound cut across the courtyard.

"Hey, this thing works!" he laughed.

"Don't blow it randomly," Zhao Jianguo snatched it back. "Use it sparingly—when the time comes, people need to hear it clearly."

Just then, He Yushui poked her head out from her own door: "What are you up to? Being all mysterious."

"Good thing." Zhao Jianguo walked over. "From now on, if someone's patrolling the courtyard at night and you see a stranger or hear something odd, don't investigate yourself—just knock three times on the window and we'll be right there."

"What should I do?" He Yushui asked.

"You're detail-oriented—you'll keep the log." Zhao Jianguo handed her a small notebook. "Record who's on shift each day, what time they take over, any anomalies—everything. Not a footprint, not a stray comment should be missed."

He Yushui took the notebook and nodded: "Fine, I'll do it every day."

The news spread fast; before dinner, Qin Huairu passed by holding her child, stopped on purpose and asked: "Heard you're setting up patrols? Can I help too?"

"Sure." Zhao Jianguo said. "After you put the kids to bed at night, if you hear anything, just open the window and shout. Louder the better—everyone in the courtyard will hear."

"No problem!" Qin Huairu laughed. "I've got a loud voice."

Jia Zhangshi also came, leaning on her cane, standing under the eaves: "I can't walk, but my ears aren't deaf. If anyone dares climb my wall at midnight, I'll bang a basin right away!"

Everyone blinked, then burst out laughing.

Zhao Jianguo looked at those faces, and the heaviness in his heart finally eased a little. This wasn't a burden he had to bear alone.

Before dark, the copper bells were hung up, the whistles handed out, and the patrol schedule posted on the central courtyard wall. The first shift was Sha Zhu and Dong Xu, the two wearing thick coats, one holding a wooden stick, the other with a whistle in his pocket, pacing back and forth at the gate.

Zhao Jianguo didn't go inside or stay put; he just stood in the central courtyard watching them move.

"You still not resting?" Sha Zhu walked over and asked.

Zhao Jianguo said, "The route goes from the gate to the East Room, around the north wall to the West Room, then through the courtyard back to the central courtyard—this line can't be broken. The spot under the old locust tree by the west wall is a blind spot; we need to pay special attention there."

Dong Xu nodded, "We'll make the round every half hour, no slacking."

Zhao Jianguo was about to speak when a faint "ding" came from the direction of the West Room.

It was a copper bell.

All three straightened up instantly.

Zhao Jianguo raised his hand, making a "quiet" gesture, and walked slowly toward the west wall. The bell didn't ring again, the wind didn't pick up, but the string of copper bells hung by the locust tree definitely swayed.

He crouched down and examined the ground.

The soil is loose, with shallow traces, as if someone stepped on it and then hurried away.

He made no sound, stood up, and slipped the whistle he was holding into Sha Zhu's hand.

"From now on, patrol every twenty minutes," he said, "Don't go straight, walk around. For this section of the West Wall, add an extra team."

Sha Zhu gripped the whistle tightly and gave a heavy nod.

Zhao Jianguo turned toward the Central Courtyard and ran into He Yushui, who was coming forward holding a notebook.

"Record this," he said, "Tonight at 8:17, the bronze bell on the West Wall moved unusually, and there are tread marks on the ground."

He Yushui opened the notebook and lowered her head to write.

Zhao Jianguo looked up at the sky. The moon hadn't risen yet; the Courtyard had only a single street lamp, illuminating the patrolling silhouette as it moved back and forth.

He was about to speak to arrange the second shift personnel when suddenly Footsteps came from outside the gate, starting far and drawing near, striking the bluestone slabs, not fast but very steady.