Not enough Japanese devils to kill? 1.4 billion people volunteer for the Battle of Shanghai.

late at night.

On the ruins on the north bank of Luodian, the starry sky overhead was exceptionally bright.

There are no city lights.

There is no industrial smoke or dust.

The night sky in 1937 was as clear as a giant piece of black velvet.

It was covered with countless stars.

The Milky Way stretches across the sky.

Like a glowing river.

Flowing quietly.

From east to west.

From ancient times to the present.

From 1937 to 2026.

It's always been there.

The embroiderer sat on a rock.

Head tilted back.

Looking at that starry sky.

Fu Hao sat next to her.

They were both looking up.

Looking at that same starry sky.

Neither of them spoke.

Only the occasional crackling sound from afar, whether from the wind or from embers burning, could be heard.

There were also breathing sounds.

Very soft breathing.

As if afraid of disturbing this rare tranquility.

The anvil and the door-breaker approached.

I sat down next to them.

Iron Anvil observed the expressions on the two men's faces.

I looked up at the starry sky again.

He grinned.

"What's wrong, ladies?"

His voice was exceptionally clear in the quiet night:

"You all seem a bit melancholy. Are you thinking about 2026? Or are you homesick?"

The embroiderer turned her head.

Look at him.

Her eyes shone brightly in the moonlight.

It shines as brightly as the brightest star in the sky.

"here--"

She spoke.

The sound was very soft.

But every word is very clear:

"It's China in 1937."

"This land is Chinese land."

She looked up.

Looking up at the starry sky above:

"This starry sky is also the same starry sky."

What's the difference between the night sky in 1937 and the night sky in 2026?

The anvil paused for a moment.

He also raised his head.

Look up at the starry sky.

The starry sky is dazzling.

And the starry sky he saw in 2026—

There really isn't much difference.

The same brightness.

Equally beautiful.

Same—

It makes people feel at ease.

The embroiderer continued:

"This is home."

"Protecting this place is protecting our home."

She paused.

Word by word:

"So what's the point of talking about longing?"

silence.

The person who broke down the door lowered their head.

Silent for a long time.

long time.

So long that even the wind in the distance stopped.

Then, he said softly:

"That's right."

"This is home."

He raised his head.

He looked at the embroiderer.

He looked at Fu Hao.

Looking towards the three silent Qilin tanks in the distance.

Look at the soldiers who are resting.

"Where these people are—"

他 说:

"This is home."

As he spoke, the anvil stood up.

I stretched.

The joints were making a "crackling" sound.

He laughed out loud.

"Alright, alright, let's stop being so sentimental."

他 说:

"Go take a nap."

He looked in the northwest direction.

Look into that darkness.

Looking at that gathering, yellowish-brown sea:

"It's dawn, and there are still 20,000 Japanese soldiers waiting for us."

The one who broke down the door also stood up.

He patted the dirt off his clothes.

"The anvil is right."

他 说:

"Sleep now, wake up and kill the Japanese devils."

The two turned around.

He walked back to his tank.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

They disappeared into the night.

The embroiderer and Fu Hao remained seated.

I'm still gazing at this starry sky.

A long time passed.

Fu Hao said softly:

"Sister, you said..."

She paused:

Will we be able to see the sun tomorrow?

The embroiderer did not answer.

He simply held her hand tightly.

They held it very tightly.

very tight.

The sky finally brightened.

East.

The fish belly turned white.

It slowly turned orange-red.

Then it turned into a brilliant sunrise.

The glow of the sunset shone on the ruins on the north bank of Luodian.

The light shone on the three silent Qilin tanks.

The light shone on those covered in blood, who had not slept all night.

Shining on those—

On those who are preparing to die.

But no one appreciated the beautiful scenery.

Because of the northwest direction.

A sound came from inside.

It wasn't the wind.

It wasn't birdsong.

It was the sound of footsteps.

The sound of thousands of feet stomping on the ground simultaneously.

"Thump."

"Thump."

"Thump."

The sound came from afar.

It's getting clearer and clearer.

It's getting heavier and heavier.

Like muffled thunder rolling on the horizon.

The embroiderer stood up.

Raise the binoculars.

Her hands—

He paused slightly.

Northwest of Luodian.

Japanese 3rd Division.

Twenty-two thousand people.

They have already formed ranks.

That's not a skirmish line.

That's the sea.

A vast, yellowish-brown ocean.

It stretches from the horizon to the edge of the field of vision.

At the very front row were infantry from three regiments.

Bayonets were everywhere.

It gleamed with a dense, cold light in the morning glow.

The second row is the artillery position.

At least sixty 75mm mountain guns and field guns.

The cannon muzzle was raised.

Pointing to Luodian.

It was directed at the Chinese troops stationed there.

The third row is the reserve team.

There were a total of 22,000 Japanese soldiers.

Everything is here.

On the front lines.

A tall Japanese horse slowly walked out.

Immediately, a person sat upright.

Lieutenant General Susumu Fujita.

He was wearing a crisp general's uniform.

His chest was covered with medals.

That was the glory he earned with the blood of the Chinese people.

The military knife was hanging at his waist.

The scabbard was polished to a gleaming shine.

It can reflect a person's shadow.

He reined in his horse.

Facing more than 20,000 Japanese troops.

silence.

three seconds.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

More than 20,000 Japanese soldiers remained completely silent.

Fujita Susumu spoke up.

"Warriors of the Third Division—"

"What lies before you is Luodian."

"It is the last line of defense for the Chinese army."

He paused:

"Once we capture Luodian, Baoshan will be ours."

"If we take Baoshan, Shanghai will be ours."

"Shanghai has been won—"

His voice suddenly rose in pitch:

"The whole of China belongs to us!"

More than 20,000 Japanese soldiers stood at attention simultaneously.

The sound of a rifle hitting the ground.

Like a muffled clap of thunder.

The ground trembled violently.

Fujita Susumu continued:

"Yesterday, the Fifth Brigade suffered a defeat here."

"Of the five thousand brave warriors, two thousand were killed in action, and three thousand were routed."

"Kitayama-kun has died in battle."

His voice lowered.

With a slight sob in his voice.

A trace—

It's truly heartbreaking.

But that sorrow was quickly replaced by hatred.

"but--"

He suddenly raised his saber.

The blade gleamed with a blinding, cold light in the morning sun.

"We will wash away the shame of the Fifth Brigade!"

"We will avenge Mr. Katayama!"

"Today, we have 22,000 people—"

He looked around at each soldier.

Every officer.

Every face.

"Put it all on!"

He roared:

"No matter the cost, no matter how many people die—"

"Luodian North must be taken!"

silence.

Then--

"It's getting dark, time to call!!!"

I don't know who shouted it first.

But soon, the sound became a torrent.

"It's getting dark, time to call!!!"

"It's getting dark, time to call!!!"

Twenty-two thousand Japanese soldiers shouted in unison.

On the Chinese front...

The embroiderer looked through the binoculars of the Qilin tank.

Looking at all of this.

"Twenty-two thousand Japanese soldiers," she said softly.

The voice was very calm:

"That's enough."

The anvil poked its head out of the tank:

"This time, killing the Japanese devils was truly exhilarating."

The embroiderer glanced back at the anvil.

"Yeah, we can finally kill to our hearts' content."

"And this time, we're sure to win."

she says:

"Behind us lies the whole of China."

She paused:

"Behind them, there was only the Emperor's memorial tablet."