The Wind Rises in 1898: Becoming a Warlord Starting in Southeast Asia

Chapter 120 Riverbank Crisis

The rain was getting heavier and heavier, as if God had overturned the Milky Way.

Large raindrops pounded against the trench walls, splashing up a dense spray of water. In an instant, the bottom of the trench was filled with murky muddy water that reached above ankle level.

Chen Feng stood in ankle-deep mud, rainwater streaming down his hat brim and pooling at his chin.

He wiped his face and looked up towards the upper reaches of the Marikina River.

The dark clouds there pressed down as low as the dome, so dark they seemed about to collapse, enveloping the world in a deathly inky blackness.

Terrible!

Chen Feng's heart skipped a beat, and the worst-case scenario flashed through his mind.

If such torrential rain continues for a day or two, the river will surely swell, and the river will become as wide as an insurmountable chasm, making it impossible for small boats carrying ammunition and supplies to cross, and the supply lines to the front lines will be completely cut off.

Even more fatally, they camped with their backs to the great river. If the Spanish colonial army attacked, the swollen river would cut off all their escape routes. Not only would they be unable to escape by boat, but their trenches might also be flooded. At that time, they would be like fish on a chopping board, at the mercy of their captors!

"General!"

A hoarse roar came from the other side of the trench.

With his head wrapped in thick bandages, Kong Yunfei huddled under a makeshift tarpaulin, afraid that rainwater would seep into the wound in his left eye.

That was from being hit by a stray bullet during yesterday's fierce battle. At this moment, faint bloodstains have seeped from the edges of the gauze, mingling with the rainwater and dripping down, clearly indicating that it has become infected.

He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, his voice filled with anxiety: "It's not that I, Old Kong, am afraid of death! If this rain keeps pouring, we'll be trapped like turtles in a barrel! Once the river rises, our supplies will be cut off, and we'll have no way to retreat. Holding out is just waiting to die!"

Tian Gang, squatting by the trench with his entrenching tool still stuck in the mud, immediately slapped his thigh in agreement: "Old Kong is right! General! The main force should retreat quickly, leaving our battalion here to hold them off! If the Spanish really attack, I'll lead my brothers to abandon the position and run. With fewer men and a smaller target, we're guaranteed not to be entangled! There's no need to lose all our resources on this broken battlefield!"

Ren Dayong clutched his bleeding right shoulder, his forehead covered in cold sweat. Every step he took aggravated his wound, causing him to grimace in pain, yet he still forced himself to walk to Chen Feng's side: "Commander You is right! As long as we're alive, we can fight again! If our main force is lost here, our Chinese Free Army will be finished! It's not worth it!"

Upon hearing this, the surrounding soldiers instinctively stopped reinforcing the trenches and all turned their gazes toward Chen Feng.

The torrential rain was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing most of the morale. Everyone knew how dangerous the situation was, and no one wanted to die in vain.

Chen Feng frowned deeply, looking down at the rushing muddy water at his feet, his boots almost being washed away so badly he could barely stand.

The US military's orders still echoed in their ears, nailed to the San Juan del Monte defense line like a nail.

But instructions are static, while people are dynamic!

The US military is far to the south and has no idea about the situation here. By the time we wait for their approval, we'll be long gone!

Holding onto this position, which is backed by a large river and is easy to attack but difficult to defend, is a major taboo in military strategy, let alone facing the crisis of torrential rain!

Are we risking our brothers' lives for a rigid command?

It's impossible!

He hesitated for no more than three seconds, his gaze sweeping over the anxious generals beside him, and then over the young but fearful faces in the trenches. He had already made his decision.

The next second, he suddenly looked up and said in a deep voice, "Fine! We'll do it your way!"

The torrential rain continued to rage, and the Independent Army's positions upstream were in complete disarray.

The rainwater had already reached above my calves, and the icy muddy water seeped up my trouser legs, making my bones numb with cold.

Luna stood in the middle of the trench, the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses blurred by the rain. He raised his hand to take off his glasses, wiped them haphazardly with the hem of his uniform, put them back on, and stared intently at the distant water tower fortress, his face so solemn it seemed to drip water.

For him, the current situation is more difficult than that faced by the Chinese Free Army.

The US military's ambitions have long been obvious; it has never taken the Philippines' independence seriously from beginning to end.

If the independence army can take advantage of the opportunity to capture Manila and rush into the city to control part of the city's defenses, it may be able to curb the ambitions of the US military to some extent.

However, if the Spanish colonial government had surrendered directly to the American forces and handed over the entire city of Manila, the cause of Philippine independence would have been even more difficult.

Therefore, he had to stay there, no matter the cost, and rush into Manila the moment the Spanish surrendered!

"General! Urgent report from Malolos!"

A messenger came running through the torrential rain, soaked to the bone like a drowned rat, his hair plastered to his face, panting and shouting, "The Commander-in-Chief refuses to hand over Bardomello! He also said that if the Chinese Free Army wants to fight, then fight! He will immediately recall all his directly subordinate units and will never bow down to Chen Feng!"

"I understand." Luna's tone was flat, revealing neither joy nor anger; clearly, this answer was not unexpected.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the surging disappointment in his heart, and turned to the communications officer behind him, sternly ordering: "Order all troops! Immediately reinforce the defenses and repair the drainage ditches! Tell the brothers that the Water Tower Fortress is the lifeline of Manila. Holding this place is holding the last hope for Philippine independence! Anyone who dares to retreat even half a step will be court-martialed!"

At 3 p.m., the torrential rain showed no signs of abating, and Chen Feng's premonition came true!

The Spanish counterattack arrived as expected, with their target at the Water Tower Fortress!

About two regiments of enemy troops swarmed out of Manila like hungry wolves, their dense numbers advancing along the road like a tidal wave towards the Independence Army's temporary defensive line.

Several heavy cannons on the city wall turned their muzzles, and the deafening roar of the cannonballs whistled as they landed on the Independent Army's positions, sending mud, water, and rocks flying everywhere. Several sections of trenches collapsed and were buried instantly.

Chen Feng lay prone by the trench, glanced through his binoculars, and immediately understood: once the Independent Army collapsed, he would be the next target!

Without the slightest hesitation, he turned to Tian Gang and said in a deep voice, "Get our artillery support! Aim at the charging Spanish colonial troops, fire three rounds simultaneously, and give them a good beating!"

"clear!"

Without a word, Tian Gang turned to the communications soldier and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Order the artillery positions! Adjust the gun elevation, target the Spanish colonial army's charging column, three rounds salvo—fire!"

After dozens of muffled cannon shots, several huge bursts of fire erupted in the Spanish charging ranks in the distance, mud, water, and limbs flew everywhere, and the momentum of the charge weakened instantly. The Independent Army's crumbling defenses temporarily regained their footing.

Meanwhile, Kong Yunfei and Ren Dayong's situation was becoming increasingly critical.

The torrential rain was still pouring into the trenches. Kong Yunfei's wounds hadn't been properly bandaged yet, and murky muddy water seeped in through the gaps in the gauze. Not only was blood seeping out from under the gauze, but also murky pus, which was running down his cheeks.

Ren Dayong developed a high fever, his cheeks were frighteningly red, and his consciousness was somewhat blurred. He leaned against the trench wall, unable to even stand steadily, and was only able to hold on by sheer willpower.

Chen Feng's heart sank when he saw the two of them.

He knew these two too well; if he didn't back down, they would rather die than leave first.

If their injuries are left untreated, let alone fighting, their very survival will be in question!

After only a moment's hesitation, Chen Feng finally made up his mind and said in a deep voice, "Tian Gang, I'm leaving the defense here to you! I'll take all the wounded back to camp! If the Spanish counterattack, don't linger; just retreat by boat! As for the American forces, I'll explain; I'll take full responsibility!"

"Understood!" Tian Gang nodded vigorously; he had wanted Chen Feng to leave for a long time.

Chen Feng nodded slightly and said to Kong Yunfei and Ren Dayong, "Come on, I'll take you back."

This time, the two did not refute, but simply stood up with difficulty and followed Chen Feng as he waded through ankle-deep mud and water to the small boat moored on the riverbank.

After crossing the river, they changed into warhorses and slowly made their way back to the camp.

After a bumpy journey, with the wounds aching from being soaked in rain, they finally arrived at the Chinese Free Army camp in the early hours of the morning.

The camp was brightly lit, but there was none of the usual noise. Only extremely suppressed sobs came intermittently from the dormitories, making people's hearts tighten.

Although they won the battle of San Juan del Monte yesterday, they also suffered heavy losses.

Most of the Chinese who came to join the army came in groups, and many of their relatives and friends died in battle.

Of the seriously wounded who were brought back, very few could be saved under the current rudimentary medical conditions.

Upon seeing Chen Feng and the others return, those who remained at the camp immediately came to greet them.

Wang Muning rushed over, her eyes red-rimmed and her voice trembling with tears, "Senior brother... you're finally back!"

Chen Feng dismounted, his movements somewhat unsteady. The wound on his shoulder, soaked by the rain, began to ache again.

He caught Wang Muning as she lunged forward, his gaze sweeping across the sorrowful faces in the camp. A pang of sadness gripped his heart, but he forced himself to remain calm and said in a deep voice, "What are you crying for! The living must live on for our fallen brothers, and avenge them!"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a power that pierced people's hearts, gradually silencing the surrounding cries.

Everyone looked up and saw Chen Feng covered in mud and bleeding from his wounds, yet he still stood tall, and the sadness in his eyes was gradually replaced by determination.

As long as the general is still alive, the Chinese Free Army will not collapse!

Wang Muning wiped her eyes, took Chen Feng's arm, and choked out, "Senior brother, I've already had hot water and clean clothes prepared. You should treat your wounds first. Battalion Commander Kong and Battalion Commander Ren also need to have the doctor check their injuries as soon as possible."

Chen Feng nodded, his gaze falling on the medical tent not far away, where lights were still on and the busy figures of doctors could be vaguely seen.

He turned to the wounded soldiers behind him and said, "Go to the medical tent to treat your wounds and get some rest. My injury is nothing serious; a little disinfectant with strong liquor will do."

As he spoke, he broke free from Wang Muning's support and limped toward the stone house.

As soon as I pushed open the door, a faint smell of herbs mixed with the smell of ink wafted out. I saw Zheng Mingsong getting up, supporting himself on his desk with one hand. His hair was messy, his eyes were dark and swollen, and he looked sleepy.

This guy studied traditional Chinese medicine for a few years and had been working in the medical shed since yesterday, helping to treat wounded soldiers. He stayed up for a whole day and night, and only came to Chen Feng's office to take a nap when he couldn't hold on any longer.

He rubbed his sore eyes, haphazardly tidying his greasy, tangled middle-parted hair, and joked, "Brother Chen, you're really tough! Braving the Spanish gunfire and charging to the front lines, you only have these minor external injuries, yet you still managed to bounce back. I'm truly impressed!"

Looking at the bloodshot eyes and listening to the teasing words, Chen Feng felt a surge of warmth in his heart.

Who would have thought that this third son of the Zheng family in Nanyang, who had been pampered since childhood and never lifted a finger, would not choose to flee when Bardomello launched his sneak attack yesterday. Instead, he kept his promise and said that if the defense line could not be held, the Independent Army would give the Zheng family face.

"Don't try to be a hero."

Chen Feng walked over, picked up the enamel mug on the table, poured a glass of warm water and handed it to him, "There are other medical staff in the medical shed, there's no need to exhaust yourself like this."

Zheng Mingsong took the water glass and drank it all in one gulp. He wiped his mouth, and the sleepiness on his face dissipated a little. He smiled bitterly and said, "Do you think I want to stay awake? After your battle yesterday, the seriously wounded filled several rooms. We're almost out of herbs, and anti-inflammatory drugs are especially precious. We have to save them for the most critically ill. The longer I hold on, the more people I can save."

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