The War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression Begins in Songhu

Chapter 440 The Thug's Crisis (Two-in-One Chapter)

...Those foreign psychology experts have always been puzzled by one thing:
Why do so few Chinese war veterans suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder? Even if some do, their numbers are far fewer compared to others, and they have not caused such significant social harm.

Based on my own experiences, those of my comrades, and the brothers of the Northern Jiangsu Independent Regiment.

I believe the reason is as follows:
Because every battle we have fought, every war we have fought, was not about invading other countries and peoples, but about fighting against invaders who sought to invade and enslave us.

Therefore, we all know clearly that we are fighting for our families, our compatriots, and our country.

Every opponent we killed was a vicious aggressor, or even some inhuman beasts.

Looking back on such battles and experiences, we feel only immense honor, not any psychological burden or shadow...

...Excerpt from Hu Biao's diary collection "Hu Shuo"...

At 5:22 a.m., half an hour before dawn.

The youngest member of Hu Biao's time-traveling team, a 19-year-old henchman, was running hard through the empty streets of Rongcheng.

Just by looking at his professional sports gear, you can tell he's been exercising early in the morning.

Although the speed is quite fast, it feels like a 100-meter sprint.

It should be noted that although this guy is a professional MMA athlete and has a habit of getting up early to exercise, he definitely doesn't get up this early.

That's why I started my running workout so early today.

The real reason is that this young man's current situation is quite strange, and if you really think about it, it's already quite bad and dangerous.

If you look closely into his eyes, you can see an abnormal bloodshot color and a strong killing intent.

Even a casual glance from a stray dog ​​on the street would make it feel a strong threat to its life, causing it to immediately tuck its tail between its legs and run away.

Regarding the henchman, a situation arises that can only be explained by rewinding time slightly, specifically to the moment when the henchman had just returned to the modern world…

After a brief, not-so-intense, spatial distortion, the thug was pleasantly surprised to find himself successfully returned to the modern world.

He returned to a bedroom in a residential area in Chengdu in the modern world, where he had lived for many years.

The clothes she was wearing were no longer a long gown used for disguise, but a set of pajamas that she had worn for more than a year and felt quite familiar with.

There were no large or small wounds or bloodstains on the body under the pajamas, not even a single scar.

If it weren't for the large leather trunk scattered on the floor of the room, containing items such as a Guizhou Army Tony helmet, a Japanese samurai sword, binoculars, and a gas mask—things that don't belong to this era at all.

In a moment of mental confusion, even the thugs would likely have doubts.

Everything I experienced in southern Guangxi at the end of 1939 and the beginning of 1930 was just a crazy, absurd dream I had.

In the time that followed, the thugs did not, like their fellow transmigrators, immediately begin to count the spoils they had brought back after recovering from their shock.

Instead, with unusually careful and gentle movements, he stuffed all the spoils he had brought back into the space under the bed.

Then I went to bed, turned off the lights, closed my eyes, and started to sleep.

There was no other way! Compared to other transmigrators, who had been navigating society for years, this 19-year-old thug was still living with his parents and was, in a sense, still a child.

He was not sleeping in the middle of the night, and the noise he made woke up his parents, especially Lao Ma; believe it or not, his mother would grab his ear and give him a good scolding.
At 19, it's the perfect age to fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow.

After closing his eyes, the thug quickly fell asleep.

But after he fell asleep, he began to dream; the battles he had experienced as a time traveler appeared in his dreams one by one like a tide.

Among them were Japanese soldiers with ferocious faces, carrying rifles with gleaming bayonets, who surged towards the positions they were guarding like a tidal wave.

They used machine guns to fire, grenades to blast, bayonets and rifle butts, and even their teeth as weapons, driving back the charging Japanese soldiers time and time again.

Led by the desperate soldiers, they pressed forward, forward, fighting desperately to break through the enemy's lines.

In this process, people on both sides died every second. A life that takes at least sixteen years to reach adulthood seemed so cheap in such a bloody and brutal battle.

It's like the kind of brother who was just chatting and laughing with you one second ago, eating and drinking with you the next second, only to be killed in battle right in front of you, leaving no trace of his body.

and also……

In short, the thug was woken up after only half an hour of sleep.

After sitting up abruptly in bed, he was panting heavily, his pajamas completely soaked with sweat, and there were even clear sweat stains on the sheets.

Even more alarming, his eyes turned an unnatural blood red, and his heart was inexplicably filled with an extremely violent emotion.

They wanted to smash things up and destroy something.

Under such extremely abnormal emotions, the thug was like a firecracker, and even the smallest thing would cause him to explode.

If Hu Biao, AT, and Black Star, these veterans, or even Xiao Cui, the nurse, were to witness such a scene...

They would probably immediately have a 'snap' in their heart and think to themselves, 'Oh no!'

Because everything the thugs are exhibiting at this moment are symptoms of 'post-traumatic stress disorder', and some of them are quite intense and severe.

If psychological counseling and sedative medication are not administered in time,

If provoked and starts a fight, it might escalate to the point of killing someone and cause serious injury.

Fortunately, the veterans had mentioned the issue of 'post-traumatic stress disorder' to the newbies, including the henchmen, during casual conversations during their time travel.

And I have reminded them more than once that they must be careful when they go back.

Thanks to this, the thug, who was panting heavily, sat on the bed for several minutes before finally realizing that something was wrong with his condition.

It must have been what the veterans call a 'post-traumatic stress disorder'.

What to do? After pondering for a while, the thug had an idea.

He planned to go out and exercise like crazy, to release all his energy and exhaust himself to the point of being like a dead dog, which he estimated would make him feel much better.

So he quietly changed into a full set of sportswear and tiptoed out the door.

Then came the scene from the beginning: around 5 a.m., on an empty street in Chengdu, a young man sprinting at top speed...

*****
So, is this method of coping with 'post-traumatic stress disorder' by thugs actually effective? Of course it is!

At a sprint-like pace, the thugs ran and stopped intermittently, covering a distance of five kilometers.

After arriving at a small park, I did 150 push-ups, 150 sit-ups, 100 frog jumps, and five sets of reaction long jumps, which really expended my energy.

After finishing, he collapsed on the ground, feeling completely exhausted, and even moving his fingers was extremely difficult.

But I was also pleased to feel that the violent emotions I had felt, which had reached their peak and made me want to fight someone, had improved considerably.

Unfortunately, this method of releasing stress through intense exercise is not quite effective enough.

It can only provide partial relief and cannot completely quell the negative emotions in his heart.

The problem is that now, the thugs don't seem to have any better options; they can only tell themselves to control their temper and hope that they can gradually recover psychologically over time.

With that in mind, he rested for a few minutes in the small park.

Then, as the sky began to brighten, the 19-year-old young man stood up and slowly walked towards his residential compound. By this time, the streets were gradually filling with more people and vehicles, especially after he reached an old street not far from his home, which became particularly lively.

At first glance, all you see are elderly men and women taking a stroll or buying groceries, or working people getting ready for work, or students going to school, all bustling about in different shops.

Because on this short old street, almost all the shops are breakfast stalls.

The breakfast offered is incredibly diverse, with dozens of options including fatty intestine noodles, wontons, dan dan noodles, chicken giblet noodles, sweet water noodles, dumplings, steamed buns, fried dough sticks, tofu pudding, and guokui (a type of flatbread).

In fact, under normal circumstances, the thugs rarely eat breakfast outside.

It wasn't that he disliked the taste or hygiene; it was simply that he was a professional MMA athlete and had to control his diet.

For breakfast, the focus is generally on high protein, high carbohydrates, and moderate fat, rather than how it tastes.

To put it simply, it's just bland and tasteless stuff like boiled eggs, chicken breast, vegetables, whole wheat bread, and oatmeal.

But this morning, the thug decided to indulge himself.

Or perhaps they intend to use these delicious, homey foods to soothe their lingering 'post-traumatic stress disorder' that hasn't completely subsided.

So he went to a wonton shop he hadn't eaten at in a long time, and randomly found an empty table to sit down.

He opened his mouth with a shout, his voice filled with inexplicable joy:

"Boss! Give me a bowl of wontons in clear broth, chili oil, seafood, 'strange flavor', and fermented bean paste, and also a serving of spicy chicken slices and a serving of spicy pork intestines."

Do you have any guokui (a type of flatbread)? Give me five.

A bowl of wontons at this restaurant costs 7 yuan, and each bowl contains 10 wontons (about 50 grams), just enough for one girl to eat her fill.

The thugs already had a much larger appetite than the average person, and after a time travel and a comprehensive enhancement of their physical abilities, their appetite increased even more dramatically.

Although he ordered quite a lot of things, he was confident that he could finish them all without wasting any food.

After he shouted, he noticed that the shop owner hesitated, probably worried that he wouldn't be able to finish the food. He immediately said, "I have four more classmates coming soon, so you can cook first."

Before long, several bowls and plates filled half of the table in front of the thug.

The thug, who was starving, didn't care about being laughed at for being a human glutton. He picked up his chopsticks and started eating right away.

His eyes lit up the moment the food entered his mouth.

I found the wontons at this restaurant to be thin-skinned, tender, smooth, and delicious; the chicken slices and pork intestines to be spicy, flavorful, and chewy; and the guokui (a type of flatbread) to be crispy on the outside and tender on the inside.

Under the delicious taste of these foods, the thugs clearly felt their mood improve.

Unfortunately, even so, a violent urge would occasionally rise in his mind, making him want to flip the table over.

The chopsticks were swung into the air, and in just seven or eight minutes, the thugs had eaten most of the food in front of them, leaving behind stacks of empty bowls with even the soup.

He only slowed down his eating and drinking when he felt less hungry.

Just then, a voice, both strange and familiar, suddenly reached his ears: "Brother! All the other seats are full, can we share a table with you?"

Unfamiliar! That's because, if you really think about it, this voice has probably spoken no more than ten sentences to him.

Familiar! It was the thug who instinctively looked up and saw a high school student, no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, wearing the uniform of a nearby high school.

That face and the voice coming from it were so familiar.

The two are practically identical: Hua Yong, the student soldier in the Guangxi Army who fought on the battlefield in Dadong Township during the time travel, and who gave a bamboo tube to himself before he died.

Therefore, just like Hu Biao, Hei Xing, and other other time-traveling companions, they encountered the same situation:
Hua Yong, the brother he once felt incredibly sorry for and heartbroken for, has, decades later, found a new life in this now powerful country and in this wonderful era.
Yes! The boy was standing right in front of me, a shy smile on his face.

This proved the thugs' suspicions to be true; everything was indeed as they appeared.

Having confirmed his suspicions, the thug's mood immediately brightened to an unprecedented degree; he didn't even notice that the last trace of anger in his heart had vanished like morning mist under the blazing sun.

What's even more amazing is that, looking at that youthful yet familiar face, I was faced with the other person's request to share a table.

The thug was extremely excited, wanting to give the other person a big, enthusiastic hug and to cheer loudly.

However, he didn't show any emotion on his face, nor did he show any intention of taking this opportunity to get to know the other person again.

Because a sudden realization dawned on the thug: knowing that the other party had been reborn and had a new and wonderful life was enough; not disturbing him was actually the best way to get along with him.

"It's alright! Let's fight it out." The thug forced a faint smile and replied.

He casually moved the empty bowls he had finished eating into this area to make more room, then stopped looking at the other person and continued eating and drinking with his head down.

Afterwards, Hua Yong and his two classmates each ate a bowl of fatty intestine noodles, chatting idly as they ate.

During this time, a classmate with a face full of acne suddenly asked:
"Summer vacation is in a month. Have you two decided where you're going to go?"

Upon hearing this, another student wearing thick glasses said helplessly, "I can't go anywhere in the bedroom. My mom is planning to enroll me in some tutoring classes, saying she wants to improve my grades."

Hua Yong replied, "My parents are planning to take me to an island nation for about a week."

In response to Hua Yong's answer, the bespectacled student immediately said:
"Go to an island nation? Hua Yong, I'm so envious of you. You'd be able to go on a shopping spree, eat all kinds of delicious food, and visit places like Mount Fuji."

"What's there to envy? If my mom hadn't kept nagging me to go, I wouldn't have wanted to go even if she hadn't invited me."

Hua Yong answered casually, and seeing that the bespectacled student didn't believe him, he explained further:
"As for shopping, most of the things in the island nation are imported by us. Why would we pay a high price to buy them back? The food is also unsafe. The seafood in the island nation has radiation, and the groundwater is seriously polluted. This has been going on for a long time."

However, you can visit Mount Fuji, but definitely not for taking photos.

You might not believe it, but I've always wanted to go to this place since I was a kid; however, I definitely won't go there to see the scenery, but rather to take a good pee.

During this process, the thugs who had been silently listening to their conversation finally couldn't hold back any longer.

He picked up the last guokui (a type of flatbread) from the plate, stood up, and smiled at Hua Yong, saying:

"Well done! Remember to pee a lot when you come, and include mine in the bill; I'll treat you to breakfast today, consider it advance payment."

Afterwards, the thug paid the bill and left the breakfast shop without the shop owner's stare, who looked at him like he was a human rice bucket.

Behind them were three bewildered teenagers.

Once the thug's figure had completely disappeared from sight, Hua Yong said to his classmate, "It's just breakfast, why is he acting like he's treating someone to a fancy meal? This guy's got a problem..."

When the thug returned home, his parents had already left for work; taking this opportunity, he began to sort through the spoils of war under the bed.

All the gold, jade, and paintings that were originally inside the leather trunk had vanished.

But the thug didn't feel any regret at all, because inside the suitcase was a "Order of the Blue Sky and White Sun" that represented his battles in southern Guangxi in 1930.

The key thing is that there is also a bamboo tube, the bamboo tube that Hua Yong showed him before he died.

I don’t know if it was brought to the modern world, but this bamboo tube has still undergone 85 years of weathering, and the texture and color look quite different from when it was first made.

However, the 24 characters that Hua Yong personally engraved on it back then are still incredibly clear today:

One day, we will raise our blue sky and white sun flag atop Mount Fuji...

(End of this chapter)