Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 231 Conspiracy
The battlefield in Xinxian County, a position halfway up a mountain.

This is a breastwork defensive fortification built by the Japanese army, but at this moment, the area inside and outside the fortification has become a veritable battlefield.

Scattered corpses, in various contorted positions, covered the entire battlefield. Some were soldiers from the Shanxi militia, while others were Japanese soldiers.

Severed arms, broken legs, blown-open chests, headless torsos... all mixed together, indistinguishable from one another.

Several surviving warhorses, their bellies ripped open by shrapnel, dragging their bloody intestines, whimpered futilely among the corpses.

Amidst the piles of stiffened corpses, faint, painful groans could still be heard—the wounded, not yet truly dead, bidding their final farewell to the world.

"First and second companies, hold your ground! Third company! Third company, search for the wounded immediately! Quickly send all the wounded brothers from the second battalion down!"

Li Qingxiang, the battalion commander of the 2nd Battalion of the 4th Regiment, stood on the pile of corpses and shouted loudly in a hoarse voice.

Having just been transferred from the First Regiment to the Fourth Regiment, he looked at the soldiers of the First Battalion who were still standing, covered in blood, and his eyes instantly reddened. Hot tears kept welling up in his eyes, but he forced them back.

The battle just now was extremely fierce.

The terrain of this position is treacherous, making it impossible for Sherman tanks to advance, and heavy artillery cannot provide effective fire support due to blind spots.

An elite Japanese company stationed here fought desperately, relying on fortifications. The entire battalion practically poured their lives, explosives, and grenades into the position, suffering heavy casualties before finally removing this thorn in their side.

A soldier covered in blood numbly rose from the pile of corpses. He stared blankly at the bloody swamp in front of him, a mixture of comrades and enemies. Suddenly, he clutched his head in agony and let out a beast-like roar.

He stepped down and felt something soft under his feet. Looking down, he realized he was stepping on an arm that was cut off at the elbow, belonging to someone wearing a gray military uniform.

The fingers on the severed arm were still slightly curled up, as if grasping at something.

Tears streamed down his face, which was smeared with gunpowder and blood, making it impossible to see his features.

He was completely unaware that a large chunk of flesh had been torn off his left arm by shrapnel, and the white bone was clearly visible between the rolled-up flesh, trembling slightly with his sobs.

"Brother...brother...give me...one more shot..."

Not far from him, beneath a pile of intertwined corpses, came a faint, intermittent groan.

That familiar, thick Shaanxi accent struck the weeping soldier like a thunderbolt.

He suddenly raised his head, scrambled over, and frantically pushed aside the already cold Japanese soldier's corpse that was pressing down on it.

Beneath the body lay his comrades-in-arms and fellow villagers.

The comrade's waist was blasted open by the shell, leaving a huge gash; he was completely severed.

White, steaming intestines flowed out of the opening, mixed with mud and blood, dragging for several meters on the ground.

Seeing his comrade in such a terrible state, the blood-covered soldier's mind went blank, and he instinctively wanted to pick him up.

"what……!"

As soon as he exerted force, the soldier in his arms let out a shrill, inhuman scream, and his body began to convulse violently.

The soldier was so frightened that he quickly let go, but dared not completely let go.

"Brother... um... I miss home..."

The soldier in his arms used his last bit of strength to squeeze out a few words from his throat, blood gushing from the corner of his mouth.

"Give him two more painkiller injections! He's beyond saving."

A medic passing by saw this and, unable to bear it, walked over to him and gently reminded him in a kind tone filled with helplessness.

These words completely ignited the chord of reason within the soldier's heart.

"roll……"

He suddenly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes staring intently at the medic with the fierce killing intent of a wild beast.

"Stretcher! Bring the stretcher quickly! Stretcher..."

He roared hoarsely at his surroundings, then lowered his head and, with an almost frenzied tenderness, embraced the rapidly cooling body in his arms, and wailed.

“Brother, let’s go home… I’ll take you home… I’ll take you home… I’ll take you back to our hometown… Let’s go back to Shaanxi… back to our hometown in Shaanxi…”

His cries, a mixture of promise and despair, echoed across this battlefield of death.

Li Qingxiang walked to the side, looked at the soldier who was crying uncontrollably, and sighed deeply.

In the battle just now, their Second Battalion suffered over a hundred casualties, with more than forty dying on the spot, more than thirty seriously wounded, and the remaining wounded will not recover for several months.

He patted the soldier on the shoulder and said, "This brother is beyond saving. Give him a quick death. Don't you have morphine on you? Give this brother a painkiller injection!"

"Painkillers...I still have painkillers..."

Upon hearing the term again, the soldier seemed to suddenly realize something, as if he had grasped at the last straw. He hurriedly took out everything from the blood-soaked canvas first aid kit at his waist and dumped it onto the blood-stained, purplish-black mud beside him.

A roll of yellowed gauze, a small bottle of iodine, a few pieces of hemostatic powder...

"Painkiller...where is the painkiller..." he muttered absentmindedly, his hands, covered in blood and mud, frantically searching through the scattered medical supplies, his fingernails filled with dark red clots.

Finally, he found a small, flat cardboard box. He opened the box with trembling hands and took out a small metal tube, about the size of a miniature toothpaste tube.

This is a disposable morphine syringe, an emergency medication that Su Yaoyang delivered on his promise. Every soldier's first-aid kit contains one. It's mainly used to relieve pain for the wounded, but it also serves another purpose: to reserve it for those severely wounded soldiers who have no hope of survival, allowing them to pass away peacefully in their final moments.

This morphine tube contains 32 milligrams of morphine, the opening is sealed with tin foil, and the front end is fitted with a double-ended syringe.

To use, simply press down firmly on the syringe to puncture the inner sealing film, then insert the needle under the skin of the injured person and squeeze the tubing to complete the injection.

Sure enough, after a dose of morphine, the wounded man, who had been struggling, gradually relaxed, and a few minutes later he stopped breathing...

…………

Inside the main hall of the command post, Su Yaoyang sat alone behind a table in front of a map.

His face showed no joy after the great victory, only deep exhaustion and unconcealable heartache.

A casualty report, just compiled and sent by the General Staff, lay quietly in front of him.

Each of those cold, black numbers represents a once vibrant life with a family.

His slender fingers gently picked up the thin piece of paper, his gaze sweeping over the total figures on it, and he let out a helpless sigh.

With a weak release of his right hand, the report, which bore witness to the shattering of thousands of families, floated lightly back onto the table, like a falling leaf.

"It's only been one day..."

He murmured to himself in a low voice, his voice filled with sorrow.

"Over a thousand people were injured or killed!"

Su Yaoyang's heart clenched uncontrollably, and even the corners of his eyes twitched involuntarily.

After nearly two years of painstaking efforts, recruiting soldiers and gathering talent from all over the place, the Shanxi militia has only grown to about 30,000 to 40,000 people.

This is the result of his best efforts.

This time, in order to achieve a decisive victory and completely cripple the Japanese 24th Division, he mobilized almost his entire force.

The offensive he personally commanded involved four infantry regiments, two tank regiments, and two heavy artillery regiments, which was two-thirds of the militia's forces.

He knew it was a high-stakes gamble.

He must achieve a swift and decisive victory, even at the cost of heavy casualties.

Because he knew very well that if the delay continued, and the Japanese 20th Division arrived from the flank, his troops would be caught in a pincer movement, and their situation would be ten times more difficult than it was now!
Just as Su Yaoyang was feeling heartbroken over the huge casualties, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the door.

"Commander! Urgent message from the Fifth War Zone!"

A communications officer strode in and handed over a telegram that had just been received.

The Fifth War Zone? Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi?

Su Yaoyang was slightly taken aback, a hint of doubt flashing through his mind.

These two were his benefactors, his partners, and his strong backers in the military.

Why send a telegram at this time? Is it to congratulate someone on their victory, or to offer some kind of support?
He reached out and took the telegram, unfolding the thin sheet of paper.

However, when his gaze swept over the few lines of text on the telegram, the weariness and sadness on his face vanished instantly.

Instead, there was extreme, unbelievable astonishment, followed by... a volcanic eruption of boundless rage!

"Asshole..."

A thunderous roar exploded from his throat, making the beams of the entire command post vibrate!

"Snapped……"

He slammed the telegram onto the table, and a clear crack appeared on the solid mahogany surface!

He stood up abruptly, his chest heaving violently with extreme anger, his face turning from red to green, and then from green to white.

That telegram was a "request" sent jointly by Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi, and approved by the Ministry of Military Affairs.

The telegram was grand and dignified, first congratulating him on his great victory in Xinxian, then abruptly changing its tone to mention the tense situation in Yichang and the insufficient manpower of the Fifth War Zone. In order to take care of the overall situation of the war of resistance, it "requested" that he immediately dispatch two to four infantry regiments and a portion of the air force to rush to the aid of the Fifth War Zone...

At that moment, Su Yaoyang understood everything.

The praise from various newspapers such as Ta Kung Pao and Shen Bao, Yan Xishan's unusual silence, and now this "request" from Li Bai and his companion that he could not refuse.

In that instant, all the clues were linked together to form a complete chain!

This is a conspiracy... I won't look... This is a blatant scheme to put him on the hot seat.

This is to take away his most elite troops at the most critical moment!

"Old Yan...you have such ruthless methods!"

Su Yaoyang gritted his teeth and squeezed out the name...

(End of this chapter)