Siheyuan: I, Shazhu, started out as an army and became a general.

The night was as dark as ink, and the wind on the plateau felt like a whip dipped in salt water, stinging my face.

The north bank of the Kejie Lang River Valley marks the starting line of the attack.

He Yuzhu lay prone in his concealed sentry post, night-vision binoculars pressed against his eye sockets. In his mind, the "Real-time Radar Map of Enemy Deployment," a system reward, glowed with a faint blue light, perfectly overlapping with the dark mountains before him.

On the other side, the Indian army's positions were brightly lit, and the faint sound of a gramophone playing music could be heard, the tune of which sounded like a funeral procession.

"Damn, they're really meticulous." Zhang Xiaowu, lying down beside them, spat out a mouthful of dirt-covered saliva. "Are these bastards here to fight a war or to have a picnic? They didn't even send out a sentry. They're as carefree as a mule."

"Weakness and ignorance are not obstacles to survival; arrogance is." He Yuzhu put down his binoculars, chewing on a bitter grass root, his eyes playful. "They think we won't dare to fight, and even if we do, it will be a small skirmish."

"What do you call this? This is called offering your face up for a beating."

He turned his head and glanced at the three young soldiers lurking in the grass behind him.

The oldest of these three soldiers was only in his early twenties, with the distinctive ruddy complexion typical of soldiers from the high-altitude region. They appeared unremarkable, but their eyes, like newly sharpened bayonets, revealed a fierce, fearless spirit.

Especially the squad leader, Pang Guoxing, whose eyes were frighteningly bright.

"Pang Guoxing," He Yuzhu said in a low voice.

"Here!" Pang Guoxing darted over silently like a nimble cat.

"I've got a good job for you guys." He Yuzhu pointed to the flank of the dark forest in the distance. "While the main force is engaged in a head-on confrontation, I need your combat team to infiltrate from here."

"How deep?" Pang Guoxing asked bluntly.

"Shove it all the way in!" He Yuzhu drew a winding red line on the map with his finger, perfectly avoiding all the heavy firepower points and striking straight at the heart of the enemy. "Your mission is not to kill a lot of people, but to muddy the waters."

"It's like a fishbone stuck in their throats, they can't swallow it, they can't spit it out, it's disgusting!"

"Commander, just... the three of us?" The young soldier Wang Shijun swallowed hard and pointed to the opposite side, "That's the configuration of an artillery battalion."

He Yuzhu glanced at him and chuckled, "What? Did you wet your pants?"

"No!" the young soldier retorted, his chest puffed out high. "It's just that... this deal is too good to pass up! Three of us for their entire battalion, a steal!"

"Change my ass! Who told you to change?" He Yuzhu raised his hand and slapped him on the forehead. The force wasn't great, but it was tinged with affection. "I want you guys to come back alive! Remember, you're wolves, ghosts, not dogs going to their deaths. Don't fight head-on, use your brains. Use the terrain, fire a shot and move on, make them think we're swarming with people, understand?"

"This is called psychological warfare. Do you even know what the 'Sixth Man' tactic is?"

The soldiers looked bewildered, but were deeply shocked.

He Yuzhu didn't explain, but pulled out three oddly shaped pistols from his pocket.

This is a "special edition" that he modified using the system when he had nothing to do at the shipyard. It comes with a built-in silencer and its power is comparable to a submachine gun.

"Take it. Cutting-edge technology. Use it to create some hype for me."

"yes!"

Pang Guoxing took the gun, ran his fingers along the cold barrel, and grinned—the look of a wolf eyeing its prey.

Four o'clock in the morning.

A red signal flare tore through the night, like an invitation from the Grim Reaper.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Our artillery, whose firing parameters had already been set, roared instantly. Countless shells, whistling sharply, seemed to have eyes, precisely striking the Indian army's bunkers and machine gun positions.

One second the Indian troops were listening to music and drinking coffee, the next they were in a scene of carnage. Flames soared into the sky, and screams were drowned out by the explosions.

"Charge!!!"

The bugle sounded, and the battle cries were like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing.

At this moment, Pang Guoxing, along with his two comrades, had already slipped into the enemy's ribs like three ghosts.

As expected, the Indian army was stunned by the frontal "bombardment" of artillery fire, its command system was paralyzed, and no one noticed the three sharp knives on the flanks.

"Squad leader, there are people all over the front! They look like they're retreating in disarray!" Wang Shijun said in a low, urgent voice.

Pang Guoxing peeked out and saw a huge, dense crowd of people, at least two or three hundred, who were retreating in a chaotic frenzy, with their guns slung over their backs.

"Attack!" Pang Guoxing roared without any hesitation.

Three people, three guns, instantly dispersed in a triangular formation.

"Da da da—pu pu pu—"

The muffled sound of the silenced pistol wasn't jarring in the chaos, but each bullet precisely reaped the panic.

Instead of hiding, they stood up straight and charged forward, firing as they went, their momentum unstoppable!

The retreating Indian troops were already frightened, and when they suddenly heard gunfire from their flanks and rear, and saw these three men running with the momentum of a thousand troops, they instantly imagined themselves being surrounded by the main force of the Chinese army.

"Chinese! Big army!"

Someone screamed in terror, their voice cracking.

"Drop your weapons! Surrender and you will not be killed!" Pang Guoxing roared in broken English, which he had just hastily learned, his voice booming with power.

A magical, even absurd, scene unfolded.

Several hundred well-equipped Indian soldiers, armed with British rifles, actually began to throw down their guns and flee in panic when faced with these three Chinese soldiers who appeared as if from the heavens, fearing that if they were too slow, they would be crushed by the "main force"...

……

Frontline command post.

The messenger's hands trembled as he held the telegram, his voice cracking with excitement:

"Reporting to General Manager He! Pang Guoxing's team has sent an urgent telegram!"

He Yuzhu was staring at the map, not turning his head, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his hand: "Read it."

The messenger took a deep breath, staring at the words on the telegram, wondering if he was seeing things or if Pang Guoxing had gone mad, but he still read it aloud with all his might:

"The enemy not only refuses to surrender, but dares to retaliate! Our three-man squad has surrounded an enemy artillery battalion! Requesting instructions!"

Quiet.

A deathly silence.

The entire command post fell silent instantly; everyone stared wide-eyed at each other in disbelief.

Three people? Surrounding an entire battalion?

And what the hell is this "dare to retaliate"? Is that even human language?

"Ha ha ha ha!"

He Yuzhu slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups bounce, and laughed until tears almost streamed down his face: "Good! Good! Not only do they not surrender, but they dare to fight back! This is the kind of soldier I've trained! This is the vision!"

The laughter subsided, and He Yuzhu's eyes instantly turned fierce, filled with murderous intent, like a tiger baring its teeth.

Call back!

"Tell Pang Guoxing to give them a good beating! Since they're so ungrateful, let's give them a taste of their own medicine! Leave no one alive, annihilate them all!"