Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 244: The situation seems to have reversed.
Wutai County, Shanxi Militia Field Hospital.

Unlike the front lines filled with the sounds of gunfire, the air here is thick with a peculiar smell of a mixture of strong Lysol, alcohol, and blood.

The painful groans of the wounded, the hurried footsteps of doctors and nurses, and the crisp clanging of metal instruments constitute the main daily routine here.

Song Mei was wearing a white coat stained with blood, her beautiful hair neatly pinned up in her nurse's cap, with only a few strands of sweat-dampened temples sticking to her smooth forehead.

She had just finished a complex thigh amputation surgery and was about to take a sip of water and catch her breath when a nurse rushed over.

"Dean, Commander Li has sent over a new batch of... uh... new recruits." The nurse's expression was somewhat strange.

"A wounded person? Take them to the triage area and treat them according to the severity of their injuries." Song turned on the kettle without even looking up.

“No…not wounded, prisoners of war.” The nurse hesitated for a moment, then added, “To be precise…a Japanese nurse.”

Song Mei suddenly stopped drinking water.

She turned her head and saw a dozen or so Japanese women dressed in khaki nurse uniforms, looking terrified and anxious, slowly walking towards them under the guard of several militia soldiers. They looked like a flock of frightened quails.

These Japanese women were all young, their faces still bearing a trace of childishness, but now they were covered in gunpowder and dust, their eyes filled with fear and bewilderment at the unknown.

Among the group of women, one nurse stood out.

She was probably in her early twenties, with delicate features. Although her figure was hidden by the loose nurse's uniform, her shapely curves were still visible.

She was clutching a medical kit tightly, her body trembling slightly.

Song Mei looked at them, her beautiful willow-leaf eyebrows slightly furrowed.

To be honest, she didn't have a good impression of the Japanese, especially after experiencing the Nanjing Massacre.

But as a doctor who graduated from St. John's Medical School and took the Hippocratic Oath, her professional ethics prevented her from doing anything drastic to these women who were also medical professionals.

Killing them is definitely out of the question.

Letting go is even more impossible.

Make them do the work?
But what if they tamper with the wounded because of the language barrier?
For a moment, even the usually decisive and efficient dean felt somewhat troubled.

Just as she was lost in thought, a gentle and calm voice sounded behind her.

"Dean, if you trust me, please entrust them to me."

Song Mei turned around and saw a familiar and beautiful face.

The person who came was Yu Mo, one of the head nurses of the hospital.

Yu Mo was also wearing a white coat, but her innate classical and gentle temperament, as if she had stepped out of the misty waters of the Qinhuai River, could not be concealed.

She wasn't as fiery and aggressive as Song Mei, but rather like a cup of mellow, aged tea that needed to be savored slowly.

"You can speak Japanese?" Song Mei was somewhat surprised.

Yu Mo smiled slightly, "When I was in Jinling, I learned some things to entertain foreigners from different countries. Daily communication shouldn't be a problem."

Looking into Yu Mo's clear and determined eyes, Song Mei felt most of her worries disappear.

She knew Yu Mo too well; this seemingly delicate woman possessed extraordinary resilience and wisdom.

"Alright! Then it's up to you!" Song Mei breathed a sigh of relief: "You can pick any number of people you want, and use any supplies you like. I only have one request: make sure they work diligently and don't cause any trouble!"

"Don't worry, Dean." Yu Mo nodded with a smile again.

As it turned out, Song Mei's decision was correct.

Yu Mo did not resort to any coercive or oppressive measures. The first thing she did was to have the soldiers release the Japanese nurses from their custody, and then she personally took them to wash and change into clean clothes, and prepared hot meals for them.

When Haruko and the other nurses were served steaming bowls of white rice and broth, they were stunned. They had expected to be abused, humiliated, or even worse, but instead, they were treated with such humanity.

After they had eaten and drunk their fill, Yu Mo gathered them together in fluent Japanese with a slight Wu dialect accent.

She didn't preach any grand principles, but calmly told them, "War is a man's business, but saving lives is the common duty of us medical staff. In our hospital, there are heroes who defended our country on the battlefield. They are seriously injured and need professional care."

You are nurses too, you should understand the dependence a wounded soldier has on a nurse.

I will not force you, but I hope that you can temporarily put aside the hatred between the two countries and use your hands to help those in need.

This is also a way for you to atone for your sins.

Yu Mo's words dispelled most of the fear and unease in the hearts of these Japanese nurses. Although they could not completely let go of their hostility and awkward feelings for the time being, they were already very happy with the result.

Haruko, in particular, couldn't help but recall her original intention in choosing to become a nurse: wasn't it to save lives and heal the wounded?

Under Yu Mo's management, which combined kindness and severity, the group of Japanese nurses who were initially terrified and thought they would be beaten or even raped were quickly subdued.

They were assigned to various wards and, under the supervision of female nurses in the field hospital, began to perform some basic nursing tasks, such as changing dressings, cleaning wounds, and feeding patients.

A peculiar scene soon appeared in the hospital: a group of Japanese nurses dressed in militia uniforms, using the meticulous nursing skills they had learned in Japan, carefully cared for the wounded Chinese soldiers who had once been their enemies.

...Nakata Katsuhiko felt as if he were having an utterly absurd dream.

Just as Haruko was being assaulted by Japanese soldiers who were also members of the Imperial Army, they were miraculously rescued by Chinese troops.

Facing the dark muzzle of a gun, he readily raised his hands, repeatedly muttering in broken Chinese, "I surrender! I surrender!"

What followed was even more surreal.

He was blindfolded, taken to a place, and subjected to a brief interrogation by the so-called "military intelligence department."

The interrogation was not as brutal as he had imagined; the other party only asked him some basic questions about the unit designation, troop deployment, and the names of the officers.

Driven by his survival instinct, Katsuhiko Nakata spoke frankly and without reservation, spilling out all the pitiful information he knew.

After the interrogation, he was taken to a dilapidated courtyard. This was the so-called "prisoner-of-war camp."

The courtyard was small, surrounded by earthen walls about waist-high. In one corner stood a simple guard post, where four militia soldiers, each carrying an M1 Garand rifle, were idly chatting.

In the courtyard, a dozen or so “Imperial Army” soldiers, dressed in the same tattered uniforms, sat or lay dejectedly, and the whole courtyard was filled with an atmosphere of defeat and despondency.

When the blindfold covering Nakata Katsuhiko's eyes was pulled off, he immediately spotted two familiar faces in the crowd.

It's those two guys!

His pupils contracted instantly, and a mixture of humiliation, anger, and fear welled up inside him.

These two men, along with a group of defeated soldiers, raped Haruko. If they hadn't been rescued by Chinese soldiers who arrived on the way, they probably would have been killed.

The two soldiers who had assaulted Haruko, one named Watanabe and the other Kobayashi, clearly recognized Nakata Katsuhiko as a "cowardly deserter."

They exchanged a glance, a malicious and cruel smile simultaneously spreading across their faces. In their eyes, this newcomer was perfect for passing the time spent as prisoners of war and for venting their anger over their defeat.

Watanabe stood up, cracking his knuckles as he grinned and walked toward Nakata Katsuhiko.

Katsuhiko Nakata's face turned deathly pale instantly. He instinctively took a step back, thinking that what he was about to face was torture even more terrible than the interrogation.

However, at this moment, a dramatic scene happened.

The militia captain who escorted Katsuhiko Nakata, a shrewd and capable-looking young man, suddenly cleared his throat and loudly announced to all the Japanese prisoners in the courtyard in a melodious, peculiar accent:

"You all...listen up!"

Everyone's eyes were attracted.

"From today onwards, you will undergo labor reform here! Through labor, you can earn work points! With work points, you will have food to eat, cigarettes to smoke, and hot water to take a bath! Without work points, you will only have the northwest wind to eat!"

The captain paused, then gave a mischievous smile, before shoving the trembling Nakata Katsuhiko in front of the crowd.

"And this man, Katsuhiko Nakata! From now on, he will be your supervisor!"

As soon as this statement came out, everyone in the audience was shocked.

Watanabe stopped in his tracks, his sinister grin frozen in place.

Just as Xiaolin was about to stand up, she sat back down heavily.

The other prisoners of war looked on in astonishment and disbelief.

Even Katsuhiko Nakata himself was completely stunned. He pointed blankly at his own nose, wondering if he had misheard, and couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

"Nani?"

Ignoring the crowd's reactions, the militia captain continued, "From now on, your daily labor tasks, discipline, and most importantly—the recording and distribution of work points—will all be the responsibility of Nakata! Whoever he says has work points, gets them! Whoever he says has no food, goes hungry!"

To make the performance more convincing, the captain magically produced a thick, black, shiny rubber stick from behind him and shoved it into Nakata Katsuhiko's hand with a "snap".

"Nakata-kun, this is your symbol of power. You must take good care of it!"

The captain patted him on the shoulder, giving him a meaningful look. "Do a good job! We believe in you! If anyone disobeys or doesn't follow your orders, use this to give them a good spanking!"

After saying that, the captain turned and left with several militia soldiers, leaving behind a yard full of petrified Japanese prisoners of war, and Nakata Katsuhiko, who was holding a rubber baton and whose mind was blank.

The air was eerily quiet.

All eyes were focused on Katsuhiko Nakata and the thick, shiny black rubber baton in his hand.

Watanabe and Kobayashi's faces changed from red to white, then from white to green, a dramatic display reminiscent of a Sichuan opera face-changing act. They looked at their junior, whom they had recently considered an ant, now holding the power of life and death over them; the feeling was worse than swallowing a fly.

Katsuhiko Nakata looked down at the rubber baton in his hand, then looked up at the two livid-faced veterans.

An unprecedented and strange feeling rose from the bottom of his heart.

The situation seems to have completely reversed?

(End of this chapter)