Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 232: Seize the time
Just as Su Yaoyang was getting angry, the door was pushed open and Pi Ruoyu walked in.

As soon as he entered the room, he saw Su Yaoyang's angry face and the clear crack on the desk.

His gaze immediately fell on the crumpled telegram. He picked it up and, with just one glance, the chief of staff of the Shanxi militia instantly understood the whole story.

"Commander."

Pi Ruoyu didn't waste any words. He stepped forward, picked up the telegram, and slowly smoothed it out. He said softly, "Yan Laoxi's move was indeed ruthless and vicious, cutting off the source of the problem without leaving any room for maneuver."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a clear spring, pouring water onto Su Yaoyang's volcano that was about to erupt.

"Poison? He's trying to kill me! He's going to make all the gains that tens of thousands of brothers risked their lives for go to waste!"

Su Yaoyang's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at Pi Ruoyu. "Ruoyu, tell me, can I accept this order?"

I just withdrew the main force, and then Yoshio Shinotsuka will be able to recover. Wouldn't all the blood of our thousands of brothers have been shed in vain?

Pi Ruoyu listened quietly to Su Yaoyang's roar until he had vented his anger, then slowly said, "Chief, please calm down."

Militarily speaking, we cannot accept this order. But politically speaking, we... cannot refuse it.

He paused, looked at Su Yaoyang, his eyes sharp and clear: "To refuse is to disobey military orders and to disregard the overall situation of the War of Resistance."

We cannot bear this accusation. Yan Xishan and those in Chongqing are eager for us to disobey orders, as it would provide ample grounds for accusations of us holding military power and controlling our own territories.

"So I'm just going to watch them rip my heart out?" Su Yaoyang said angrily, unwilling to accept it.

“No.” Pi Ruoyu shook his head, a glint of light flashing in his eyes. “Chief, this matter is not entirely a bad thing.”

"A bad thing is a bad thing! What good thing could there be?"

“Commander, you think so.” Pi Ruoyu’s voice was even lower, but full of persuasiveness. “No matter how well our Shanxi militia fights in Shanxi, or how well our reputation spreads, in the eyes of outsiders, we are ultimately just a local armed force in Yan’s territory. They can manipulate us at will because they know that our foundation is still shallow and our reputation does not extend beyond Shanxi.”

"But what if we went to Hubei? In the Fifth War Zone, under the spotlight of the national media, and fought a brilliant battle against the Japanese army head-on? That would be a different story."

Pi Ruoyu's speech quickened, his eyes gleaming with wisdom. "At that time, our Shanxi militia will no longer be a local force, but a nationally renowned anti-Japanese elite! This title is more effective than ten thousand guns or a hundred thousand shells!"

"Once we establish a reputation, it will be our best protection! In the future, whether it's people in Chongqing or anyone else, if they want to mess with us, they'll have to consider the public opinion across the country! They'll have to consider the weight of our 'Iron Army of Anti-Japanese War'!"

Pi Ruoyu's words were like a lightning bolt, cleaving through the fog in Su Yaoyang's mind.

The anger on his face gradually faded.

Yes... The reason why Yan Xishan dared to set such a trap for himself so brazenly was because he was the commander-in-chief of the Second War Zone, while he was just an unknown commander of a small militia. If it were Li Zongren, Bai Chongxi, or even Fu Zuoyi, would Yan Xishan dare to do this even if he had two lives?

dare not!

Because their reputation is their strongest armor!
Su Yaoyang paced back and forth in the room, his heavy military boots clattering rhythmically on the wooden floor.

Although his face was still so gloomy it could drip water, the rage in his eyes had completely subsided, transforming into a coldness and calmness like the Siberian cold front.

Pi Ruoyu stood quietly to the side, not disturbing his thoughts. He knew that his boss had recovered from the anger of being betrayed and was now calculating how to retaliate.

After a long while, Su Yaoyang finally stopped. He didn't look at Pi Ruoyu, but stared at the huge map of Shanxi on the wall, marked with the enemy's and our positions, and slowly spoke, his voice hoarse but firm:
"We can send out troops, but not all of them."

He turned around, pointed sharply at the map with his finger, and placed it on the location of Taiyuan.

"After this battle, that old devil Yoshio Shinotsuka will definitely see us as a thorn in his side."

At most, we only have six capable infantry regiments. This force is sufficient for defense, but far from enough to completely shake the Japanese army's foothold in Shanxi.

His finger drew an even larger circle on the map, encompassing several important counties.

"Therefore, we must continue recruiting! Issue an order immediately to recruit five more regiments in the name of the victory at Xinxian! Weapons and equipment are not a problem; I will take care of that."

These words were filled with undeniable domineering confidence and a precise prediction of the future battle situation.

"Five regiments?" A hint of surprise flashed in Pi Ruoyu's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. He nodded, then asked the most crucial question: "So, how many troops do you plan to send to Hubei?"

Su Yaoyang pondered for a moment, seemingly rapidly deducing in his mind.

"Too few won't do; people will look down on us, it won't help us gain fame, and it wouldn't live up to the name of 'Iron Army of the Anti-Japanese War.' Too many... we don't have the strength for that; it would drain our resources."

He held up three fingers.

"Send three infantry regiments, plus one artillery regiment. As for the air force, send two squadrons of those lads from the pirate squadron."

This force is sufficient to handle a medium-sized battle, and enough to shut up the Fifth War Zone and Chongqing.

Pi Ruo-yu quickly calculated the troop deployment in his mind and nodded in deep agreement: "Yes, your concerns are reasonable."

This force is sufficient to intimidate us without crippling our defenses in Shanxi. After all, once the Japanese 20th Division arrives, Yoshio Shinotsuka will undoubtedly pounce on us immediately; too few troops won't do.

He pondered for a moment, then asked, "So... who do you plan to send to lead the team?"

Upon hearing this question, Su Yaoyang's face revealed a self-assured smile tinged with arrogance.

"Of course it's me."

He answered without hesitation, his tone tinged with helplessness.

"Such a big matter as sending troops, if I don't go in person, not to mention what Commander Li and Commander Bai will think, I'm afraid people in Chongqing will say that I'm just doing a perfunctory job."

"Eh……"

Pi Ruoyu sighed helplessly, "They say people are afraid of becoming famous, just as pigs are afraid of getting fat. It seems that fame has both advantages and disadvantages."

"Let's not talk about these things anymore." Su Yaoyang shook his head, as if trying to get rid of these worries. "The troops' attack is going smoothly, and our command post needs to move forward as well."

"Let's go...to the front lines!"

"Yes!"

…………

This was not a fortified position, but a semi-subterranean command post where half of the hilltop had been leveled by artillery fire.

Tree roots that hadn't been cleaned were still embedded in the damp mud walls, and mud and sand kept falling down.

The air was filled with a strong, complex odor, a mixture of gunpowder smoke, blood, disinfectant, and despair.

Lieutenant General Yoshikatsu Kuroiwa, commander of the 24th Division, sat blankly at a table made of makeshift ammunition boxes.

His once crisp general's uniform was now covered in mud and wrinkles, his once meticulously combed hair was now disheveled, and a few strands of graying temples were soaked with cold sweat and stuck to his forehead in a sorry state.

In front of him was also a casualty report.

That thin sheet of paper felt incredibly heavy in his hands. His hand trembled uncontrollably, so much so that the paper made a chilling, rustling sound.

His eyes were fixed on the numbers in the report, his cloudy eyes bloodshot.

"Impossible... This is absolutely impossible!"

He muttered to himself, his voice dry as if two pieces of sandpaper were rubbing together.

The battle has only lasted forty-eight hours!

His most elite 3,800-strong infantry regiment reported "1,627 casualties" in its report!
An entire squadron was almost decimated!

The other two regiments, the 22nd Infantry Regiment and the 89th Infantry Regiment, are in slightly better condition, but their combined casualties have already exceeded two thousand!

In just two days! One of his divisions lost nearly a brigade's worth of troops! And this was despite having strong fortifications and a superior terrain!
What kind of monsters are those "Shanxi militia" on the other side?! Their endless artillery fire, their fearless charges, their precise and deadly shooting... This is no local armed force at all; this is clearly a devilish force even more terrifying than the Empire's most elite divisions! Yoshikatsu Kuroiwa's heart is bleeding.

An idea rose uncontrollably in his mind... to ask Commander Yoshio Shinotsuka for help!

However, he ruthlessly extinguished the thought as soon as it appeared.

In an instant, Yoshio Shinotsuka's serious, cold face, filled with disappointment and anger, flashed into his mind.

He could almost hear the roar coming from the other end of the phone: "Kuroiwa-kun! Your 24th Division is the elite of the Imperial Japanese Army! It's not meant to be slaughtered by a bunch of Chinese bandits! You can't even handle a mere local militia, and you still have the nerve to ask me for help?! You've completely disgraced the Empire!"

Thinking of this, an endless sense of shame overwhelmed Yoshikatsu Kuroiwa like a tidal wave.

He cannot ask for help.

Asking for help would be tantamount to admitting his incompetence and the defeat of the 24th Division. This stain would follow him for the rest of his life, making it impossible for him to ever hold his head high in front of his colleagues again.

His face, under the dim light of the kerosene lamp, turned pale and then bluish, and beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

After much thought, he realized he had no other options.

Retreat? No, military orders are absolute.

Ask for help? No way, that would be a complete loss of dignity.

It seems there's only one path left.

He slowly raised his head, and in his cloudy eyes, the last shred of reason was replaced by the frenzied gambler's mentality.

He addressed the equally pale-faced chief of staff beside him, and in a hoarse, almost dreamlike voice, gave the order:

"Pass my order..."

"All troops... hold your ground! Anyone who retreats even one step will be executed on the spot, no matter who they are!"

"Tell them that reinforcements...reinforcements are coming soon! For His Majesty the Emperor, for the Great Japanese Empire, let us die for the Emperor!"

…………

The Loess Plateau of Shanxi was stained with a layer of gray-black by the smoke of war.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder, the stench of earth, and an overwhelming stench of blood.

The dense gunfire, like popping beans, shattered the tranquility of this ancient land.

"Da da da—da da da da—!"

A deep, rhythmic roar echoed across the battlefield—the unique howl of the M1919A4 heavy machine gun.

The machine gunner, "Old Cao," was shirtless, his muscular upper body bare, sweat mixed with gunpowder smoke carving deep lines into his bronze skin.

He knelt on one knee behind a makeshift sandbag fortification at the front of the position, his hands pressing hard on the butterfly trigger of the machine gun. Hot brass cartridge cases poured out of the right side of the gun like a waterfall, piling up into a glittering little mountain on the ground.

He wasn't firing blindly, but rather alternating between precise short bursts and long bursts.

The muzzle flashes licked at the Japanese positions a hundred meters ahead, each burst of .30-06 rifle bullets like the scythe of death, precisely reaping lives.

A Japanese soldier who had just poked his head out to throw a grenade was instantly hit in the head by a bullet. His red and white brain matter mixed with his helmet exploded, like a brilliant yet deadly flower of blood.

Elsewhere, the Japanese army's hastily set-up light machine gun had barely roared twice when it was hit by a precise long burst from Lao Cao, sending sparks flying. The machine gunner and assistant gunner fell to the ground without uttering a sound.

"Baka! Suppress that heavy machine gun! Quickly! Fire support!"

A Japanese sergeant shouted loudly, his voice sounding sharp and weak amidst the deafening gunfire.

He was one of the countless soldiers who had been ordered by Commander Yoshikatsu Kuroiwa to hold the position to the death, but at this moment, facing this strongpoint that was almost impossible to destroy head-on, all he felt was despair.

The firepower of this "Shanxi militia" was far more ferocious than any main force of the Nationalist army they had ever encountered.

Meanwhile, in a command post on a high ground about one kilometer behind, Su Yaoyang, who had just arrived at the front line from the Wutai County command post, was calmly observing the entire battle situation with a pair of Zeiss 10x50 military binoculars.

"Commander!"

Standing beside him, Pi Ruoyu pointed to the battle map spread out in front of them and said, "Li Gaoyuan's regiment has torn a gap on the left flank. The support from the air force and artillery regiment has played a decisive role."

The Japanese 24th Division showed great resistance, but their firepower was completely outmatched by ours. Their artillery positions had just been destroyed by our Corsair fighter planes.

The "pirates" that Pi Ruoyu mentioned were the pirate crew led by Cheng Rufeng.

Just half an hour earlier, six F4U Corsair fighter planes painted with skull and crossbones symbols turned Japanese artillery positions into an inferno with their rockets and 500-pound bombs. This kind of devastating attack is unimaginable for any army in this era.

Su Yaoyang put down the binoculars, his face expressionless.

"Order Li Gaoyuan not to linger in battle, but to infiltrate through the gap and target the Japanese command post. Also, contact the field hospital and ask Song Mei how things are going."

"Yes, sir!" The communications soldier immediately began operating the radio.

Meanwhile, five kilometers away from the battlefield, in a field hospital converted from a courtyard, another hellish scene unfolded.

Wounded soldiers were continuously carried down from the front lines, and the air was filled with the smell of blood, disinfectant, and the painful groans of the wounded.

Song Mei, the former innkeeper, is now showing another side of herself as the director of a field hospital. She is wearing a white coat, but it is already splattered with blood.

Her beautiful hair was neatly styled in a bun, revealing her smooth forehead. Her eyes were focused and sharp, lacking her usual fiery and cheerful demeanor, replaced by a reassuring composure.

“Tweezers!” she said calmly, her voice not loud, but loud enough for the nurse beside her to hear clearly. Her fingers were steady and nimble as she picked up a deformed piece of shrapnel from a soldier’s mangled thigh and tossed it into a metal tray beside her with a crisp clang.

"Clean the wound and prepare to suture!" she gave the order, then turned to the next operating table.

Looking at those young faces contorted in agony, her heart ached as if it were being pierced by needles, but she knew she couldn't stop.

The more people she saves, the less pressure her husband, Su Yaoyang, will face on the front lines.

Inside the command post, soft footsteps approached, and a steaming cup of water was handed to Song Mei.

It was Xiao Lu. She was still wearing her nurse's uniform, which was covered in blood, and there was a hint of worry on her face.

"Sister Mei, have some water to soothe your throat." Her voice was soft, with a gentle quality unique to girls.

Song Mei turned her head and glanced at her before taking the water glass. Feeling the warmth in her palm, the slight irritation in her heart subsided. She nodded and drank the warm water in one gulp.

Seeing Song Mei drink the warm water in one gulp, Xiao Lu said, "Sister Mei, you've been performing surgery for seven or eight hours straight. You can't keep going like this. You need to rest immediately, otherwise your body won't be able to take it."

"No, there are still many wounded people waiting for me to rescue," Song Mei retorted instinctively.

“There are always more wounded people to save.” A rare stubbornness appeared in Xiao Lu’s voice: “But if you fall, even more wounded people will lose the chance to be treated.”

“You…” Song Mei looked at her sister, who was becoming more and more mature and charming, with some surprise, and said with emotion, “Xiao Lu… you’ve grown up.”

Xiao Lu didn't speak, but lowered her head and gave a shy smile.

Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out at the door, followed by hurried footsteps and a rapid voice.

"Dean Song... another batch of wounded soldiers has been sent down from the front. Dr. Ma said that these wounded soldiers are all seriously injured and must undergo surgery."

Upon hearing this, Xiao Lu's expression changed slightly. Sure enough, she heard Song Mei say in a deep voice, "Prepare for surgery immediately!"

(End of this chapter)