Republic of China: Ace Pilot

Thousands of meters in the air, Fang Wen used his supernatural abilities to watch the Japanese army struggle to enter Datong City but manage to recapture an empty city, and couldn't help but smile.

The supplies have now been transported out, and the Eighth Route Army has successfully withdrawn to a safe area.

It's time to receive that batch of graphite and transport it back to the base.

Fang Wen then changed the course of the gunboat and flew towards the Hengshan mountain area southeast of Datong.

That place is where nearly 10 tons of high-purity graphite are stored.

As the gunboats flew through the mountains, the scenery outside the window gradually changed with the increasing altitude.

After the smoke and ruins of the battlefield have faded, the magnificence and beauty of Hengshan Mountain are fully revealed. The undulating mountains are like a giant dragon coiled up, with bare gray rocks and patches of green pines and cypresses that stretch their branches and leaves in the breeze, showing the majestic momentum of the famous northern mountain.

Fang Wen slowed down his flight and scanned the mountains. He saw ancient religious buildings scattered along the mountainside, some hidden in the dense forest, others hanging on the cliffs. The blue bricks and gray tiles blended into the natural landscape. The smoke from incense rose, creating a stark contrast to the gunfire that had just occurred. It was as if he had traveled through the flames of war and stepped into a secluded paradise.

Although he was concerned about the transportation of graphite, he couldn't help but take a few more glances. This was the first time he had observed Mount Heng from the air in this era. Such a magnificent and tranquil landscape was especially precious in the midst of war.

(Hanging Temple of Hengshan)
Based on the location information provided by the local Eighth Route Army, Fang Wen controlled the gunboat, lowering its altitude and traversing the Shili River in the Hengshan Mountains, searching for it.

This river, which was recorded as the Wuzhou River by Li Daoyuan, a geographer of the Northern Wei Dynasty, in his "Commentary on the Waterways Classic," has nine bends and eighteen turns. The water is crystal clear, and various pebbles of different colors are scattered on the riverbed, some as white as jade and others with fine patterns.

The clear river water also indicates that it is not deep enough and the surface is not wide enough. A section of the river with water storage capacity that can simultaneously land a large number of seaplanes is needed for the take-off and landing of air transport aircraft.

(Ten-mile River in Hengshan)

A few minutes later, Fang Wen found a landing area where the water depth and surface area were suitable.

The gunboat landed smoothly on the river, splashing up tiny droplets of water. After the plane reached the shore, Gong Xiuneng opened the cabin door, got off, and secured it with a cable.

Then, Fang Wen stood up from the cockpit, walked to the hatch, and jumped ashore.

A refreshing mountain breeze swept over me, carrying the fragrance of grass and trees and the moisture of the river, instantly dispelling the fatigue and the smell of gunpowder from the past few days.

The Eighth Route Army officers who had been waiting on the shore immediately stepped forward to greet him and saluted Fang Wen: "Mr. Fang, you've finally arrived! The graphite supplies have all been properly stored in Longxing Village at the foot of the mountain, just as you requested. They are under guard the whole time and are absolutely safe."

Fang Wen raised his hand in return: "Thank you for your trouble. Please take me there."

As they walked along the path by the Shili River, Fang Wen occasionally inquired about the storage of the graphite. The officer answered in detail: "After receiving the order, we transported the graphite by waterway to Hengshan, selected the driest houses in the village for storage, and arranged for soldiers to guard it 24 hours a day. We also set up guard posts around the village to prevent unidentified people from entering and investigating. Currently, the supplies are intact and all are there."

Before long, the two arrived at Longxing Village at the foot of Hengshan Mountain.

The village is small, built against the mountain, with mud-brick houses scattered in a neat and orderly fashion. Soldiers responsible for guarding supplies patrol the area around the village with vigilant expressions.

Entering the house where the graphite was stored, we found that the nearly 10 tons of graphite filled three large rooms.

Bags of graphite were neatly stacked inside the room, each bag wrapped in thick burlap and securely tied with rope.

Fang Wen stepped forward, untied a bag, and took out high-purity graphite particles to examine them.

He had only one thought in his mind: to transport these supplies back to the base as soon as possible, to make them play their greatest role, and to manufacture better weapons as soon as possible to defeat the Japanese invasion.

He then turned to the officer beside him and instructed, "Please continue to be on guard and keep an eye on the supplies. I need some time to get planes to transport them away."

Back on the gunboat on the banks of the Shili River, Fang Wen immediately turned on the onboard transmitter, adjusted the transmission frequency, and sent telegrams to the logistics company and the base in northern Myanmar.

Five aircraft from the logistics company have been dispatched to Yanchuan Water Airport to stand by.

Fifteen seaplanes from the Myanmar transport fleet have been deployed to Yanchuan Sea Airport to await further orders.

After the telegram was sent, Fang Wen sat in the cockpit, quietly waiting for a reply from the base.

Shortly after, the transmitter responded with a series of beeps, indicating that the logistics company and the base in northern Myanmar had received the instructions and that the seaplane would immediately prepare for takeoff.

The logistics company's plane is expected to arrive on the same day.

However, the seaplane departing from Myanmar, without Fang Wen leading the direct flight, requires multiple transfers and is expected to arrive in Yanchuan at 4 PM.

In that case, we won't be able to fly to the Jin-Cha-Ji base area today.

Having just finished the battle, Fang Wen didn't want to take a large number of planes on a risky night flight; he wanted to ensure the supplies were safely delivered to the base.

Therefore, we decided to wait until tomorrow to assemble and depart.

After the telegram communication ended, Fang Wen got off the plane.

He said to his bodyguard Gong Xiuneng, "Rest here for the night, and leave tomorrow."

Gong Xiuneng gazed at the misty Hengshan main peak in the distance and said to Fang Wen, "General Manager, do you know that Hengshan is not only a famous mountain in the north, but also a Taoist holy site? Legend has it that before his death, the Taoist master Kou Qianzhi of the Northern Wei Dynasty entrusted his disciples to build a 'temple in the sky,' which is now the Hanging Temple. My master and I went there once. There lived a Taoist hermit in that temple. He was very knowledgeable, well-versed in astronomy and geography, and even had insight into worldly affairs. The local people respected him very much."

Upon hearing this, Fang Wen's eyes immediately lit up with curiosity.

He was filled with longing for these Taoist masters and the secrets of ancient temples.

"Oh? There's such a master? We have some free time now, why don't we go up the mountain and pay him a visit?"

Gong Xiuneng replied, "Great! The Hanging Temple is located on the cliff face of Cuiping Peak in Hengshan Mountain. There's still time to climb up now."

Fang Wen then told the crew to stay on the plane while he took Gong Xiuneng into the village to find the Eighth Route Army officer who had received him, explaining that they wanted to visit the Hanging Temple as soon as they had time that day.

The officer naturally wouldn't refuse: "Of course. I'll arrange for two local soldiers to take you up the mountain."

Although Gong Xiuneng claimed to know the way, Fang Wen understood that the officer was sending people to protect him out of goodwill, so he agreed.

Immediately afterwards, Fang Wen and Gong Xiuneng, along with two skilled soldiers, set off towards the Hanging Temple of Hengshan.

To get to the Hanging Temple from Longxing Village, you need to climb up a mountain path.

The mountain path is rugged and steep, with small pebbles occasionally falling from above. One side of the path is a cliff, and the other side is a steep slope covered with trees.

Along the way, two soldiers led and protected Fang Wen and his companion carefully, one in front and one behind, and did not walk very fast because they were worried that Fang Wen and his companion were not used to climbing mountain roads.

Since he had time today, Fang Wen wasn't in a hurry and continued at his own pace, treating it as a mountain climb and enjoyment of the scenery.

Along the way, one can see scattered ancient stone tablets and inscriptions, with poems praising Hengshan by literati of all dynasties, as well as some ancient paintings, all showcasing the historical heritage of this famous mountain. After climbing for about an hour, the group finally arrived at the foot of the Hanging Temple.

Looking up, this ancient temple, hailed as one of the "world's ten most precarious buildings," truly lives up to its reputation.

It stands on the cliff face of Cuiping Peak, embedded in a depression formed by a fracture in the rock strata. Backed by the rock wall and facing south, the entire complex gradually rises along the north-south direction of the mountain, like a delicate and exquisite relief sculpture inlaid on the towering cliff.

The wooden walkways are suspended in mid-air, connecting the palaces and towers, with a bottomless abyss below. Just looking at them makes one dizzy, and one can't help but marvel at the wisdom and courage of the ancients.

Compared to the future Hanging Temple, it is more ancient and less vibrant.

"This temple is actually built on a cliff!" Fang Wen exclaimed deliberately.

Gong Xiuneng, a Taoist priest, explained with a smile: "This Hanging Temple was first built in the fifteenth year of the Taihe reign of the Northern Wei Dynasty. It has a history of more than 1,500 years. It was built by Kou Qianzhi's disciples according to his last instructions. It has been repaired by the Tang, Jin, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties and is still in good condition today."

The soldiers behind him, after hearing what Gong Xiuneng said, couldn't help but add: "This temple is very strange. My grandfather said that from the very beginning, it had three halls: Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, unlike other places."

"Really? Then I'll have to take a good look." Fang Wen exclaimed at just the right moment.

The road ahead was somewhat steep, so I said nothing more.

The group carefully climbed the steep stone steps to the Hanging Temple.

The plank road is narrow and steep. The wooden planks underfoot have been eroded by time and are slightly worn, making a slight creaking sound when stepped on. Beside you is a bottomless abyss. A gentle breeze blows and the plank road sways slightly, which makes people feel awe.

The palaces along the way are small and exquisite, with blue bricks and gray tiles, carved beams and painted rafters. Although they have experienced vicissitudes, their original beauty can still be seen.

The statues inside the hall are lifelike, each with a different expression, and the incense smoke curls upwards, creating a tranquil and solemn atmosphere.

After passing through several halls, the group arrived at the Three Religions Hall on the top floor of the Hanging Temple.

An elderly man dressed in a blue Taoist robe was sitting on a stone bench outside the hall, his eyes closed in meditation. He held a whisk in his hand, his expression serene, as if all the noise around him was irrelevant.

Upon seeing this, Gong Xiuneng quickly stepped forward, cupped his hands in greeting, and said respectfully, "This junior, Gong Xiuneng, came here with my master, Daoist Jingyuan, ten years ago. I am visiting you again today, Daoist Master. I apologize for any intrusion."

The old man slowly opened his eyes and looked at Fang Wen and the others with gentle eyes.

"I am merely staying here temporarily to practice my spiritual cultivation and to repair this ancient temple. I am not the owner of this place, so how can you say I am being presumptuous?"

As he spoke, he stood up and said, "If you gentlemen wish to see the Hall of the Three Religions, please do so. If you wish to discuss the Dao with me, that is also fine. However, there will be no tea or refreshments to serve."

Seeing the Taoist's unrestrained speech and manner, Fang Wen's curiosity grew even stronger.

He spoke up, "Master, I've heard that there's a virtuous person living in seclusion on Mount Heng. You must be the one, right? Now that war is raging, why are you still living in seclusion here instead of seeking refuge in the rear?"

The old man glanced at Fang Wen and said, "I have lived in seclusion here for more than ten years and have long been accustomed to it. Now that war is raging and all people are suffering, although I am powerless to fight on the battlefield, I am willing to guard this ancient temple and pray for the well-being of all people."

He looked at the two soldiers with rifles and asked, "Are you from the Eighth Route Army? I heard there was fighting in Datong City a few days ago. Are you fighting the Japanese?"

Fang Wen nodded: "Now that the battle is over, if you want to hear the story, I can tell you some of the less confidential parts, how about it?"

The Taoist priest suddenly perked up, and the faint, ethereal aura he had possessed vanished.

He raised his hand and waved his sleeve: "Then please follow me into the Laozi Hall. Although there is no tea or snacks, there are some wild fruits from the mountains to treat you."

Lin Rui and the other three followed him into the Laozi Hall and sat down on the floor on prayer mats.

The two soldiers kept their duty in mind; they neither sat down nor ate the Taoist's food, but stood with their guns in hand.

The Taoist priest didn't mind. He took some fruit and roots from his basket, placed them on a wooden plate, and put them in front of Fang Wen.

"It's some hawthorn, sea buckthorn, and Solomon's seal, all picked from the mountains."

Fang Wen picked up a black, lumpy object from the plate and asked, "What is this?"

"Polygonatum sibiricum. If you don't eat it raw, it will make your mouth numb," the Taoist priest said with a smile.

Fang Wen put it in his mouth, took a bite, and found it soft, sweet, and chewy.

It's a pretty good natural dessert.

After putting down the preparation of Huangjing (Polygonatum sibiricum), Fang Wen explained some of the battles in Datong to the old Taoist priest.

"We sent 2000 troops, while the Japanese army in Datong numbered 4000. We engaged in battle in the south of Datong. Unable to take the city, they retreated back into Datong."

"4000 Japanese troops couldn't take it?" The Taoist priest was very surprised.

A soldier spoke up: "This time we also had planes, and we shot down more than a dozen of the Japanese planes. The man in front of you is the one who commanded those planes in battle."

Upon hearing this, the Taoist priest suddenly understood.

"That day, I saw planes frequently taking off from the southwest and heading towards Datong. I was wondering why, since the Japanese planes always flew in from the east and north, I had never seen planes coming from the southwest. It turned out they were from the Eighth Route Army. You said you shot down more than a dozen, that's not an exaggeration, is it?"

“I’m not exaggerating.” Fang Wen replied with a smile, “I can’t go into the details of the specific battle. But I can tell you that the enemy planes came in two waves to support the Japanese forces in Datong. We ambushed them in the air, causing huge losses and depriving Datong of air support afterwards.”

The Taoist priest looked at Fang Wen, and gradually a look of surprise appeared on his face.

The Taoist priest looked at Fang Wen, his brows furrowing slightly. His fingertips unconsciously twirled the tassel of his whisk, his tone tinged with surprise and confusion:
“Your face… is truly remarkable. Judging from your bone structure and lines, you are destined for a life full of hardships and tribulations. In your early years, you should have been wandering and constantly facing dangers. Even with your great abilities, you could not escape the trials and tribulations of fate and would hardly have a peaceful life.”

Fang Wen's heart skipped a beat. The face the Taoist priest spoke of must be Fang Wen's true destiny. However, he remained calm and asked, "Taoist priest, you have a discerning eye. In your opinion, is there any difference now?"

The Taoist priest sighed softly, his gaze lingering on the man's brows, his tone growing increasingly solemn: "That's the strange thing. You should have faced countless hardships and narrow escapes, but now your forehead is glowing, and a purple aura is faintly visible, making you appear to have the best of luck, turning misfortune into good fortune. You can turn danger into safety in any perilous situation; and you always have divine assistance in any major event. You have transformed your miserable fate into a noble destiny, and even this old Taoist priest cannot see the reason behind it."

Fang Wen was secretly alarmed and continued to press, "What else did you see, Daoist Master?"

The Taoist priest shook his head, his eyes full of surprise, and slowly said, "Looking at your aura, you exude a strong sense of opportunity. Others who come into contact with you will gain wealth and honor, and those who get close to you will avoid disaster. This reversal of fate is too abrupt, and your good fortune is extraordinary. I have cultivated for half my life, and this is the first time I have ever seen such a peculiar destiny."

His words had already vaguely revealed Fang Wen's supernatural abilities and secret treasures, and even his identity as a time traveler.

Fang Wen was amazed, and then thought about the important things he was going to do.

He couldn't help but ask, "Master, I have a matter I'd like you to calculate." (End of Chapter)