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

Bian Yun was the first to rush to the crater where Guo Rugui was.

He looked at the officer before him, covered in blood but with sharp eyes, stood at attention, and saluted:

"Bian Yun, here to provide backup!"

Guo Rugui stared blankly at him, then at the four men behind him who were wreaking havoc. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Are you Brigade Commander Guo Rugui?" Bian Yun asked.

"...Yes." Guo Rugui finally found her voice. "Which part are you from?"

Bian Yun didn't answer directly. He squatted down and quickly examined Guo Rugui's wound: "A penetrating wound in the left arm, requiring immediate surgery. But first, stop the bleeding."

He took out hemostatic powder from his tactical kit, tore open the packaging, and sprinkled it on the wound.

The powder begins to expand and coagulate the moment it comes into contact with the blood, and the bleeding stops.

Guo Rugui stared wide-eyed at the scene.

"You..." his voice trembled, "are... reinforcements?"

"Yes." Bian Yun looked up at him, saying each word clearly:

"Reinforcements from 2025."

Guo Rugui was completely stunned.

2025 years?

Later generations?

He looked at the battlefield—the "little flying insects" were still flying in the air, and the Japanese tanks were burning.

And all of this was caused by these five people in front of us.

"2025..." he murmured repeatedly, "Was the War of Resistance... won?"

"We won." Bian Yun nodded emphatically. "We won in 1945. Now, no one dares to bully China."

Guo Rugui's tears flowed freely.

It wasn't sadness, but relief, ecstasy, the exhaustion of finally being relieved of the burden of eighty-eight years.

"We won...we won..." he murmured repeatedly, then suddenly grabbed Bian Yun's hand tightly. He saw the military badge on Bian Yun's arm with two words engraved on it—"Future Generations".

"What will the future be like?" Brigade Commander Guo Rugui asked, trembling.

"A prosperous, democratic, harmonious, and powerful China means no one will dare to bully it," Bian Yun replied earnestly.

The Japanese troops were temporarily driven back.

Temporary first aid station at the front line.

Su Qing was treating the wounded soldiers. The medical supplies she brought saved at least fifty soldiers who would otherwise have been certain to die.

Guo Rugui's wounds had been bandaged. He leaned against an ammunition box, looking at Bian Yun, Lu Bei and the others, and at the amazing equipment, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"So..." He slowly processed everything he had just heard, "You really did come from 2025. The War of Resistance really was won. The new China... really became strong."

"Yes." Bian Yun sat down beside him and handed him a compressed biscuit. "Try this. It's military rations for 2025."

Guo Rugui took it and carefully took a bite. It was hard, but as she chewed, she could taste the aroma of wheat.

"It's delicious," he said, tears welling up in his eyes again. "It's much better than what we eat..."

Bian Yun nodded and looked at the countdown in his mind:

[Countdown to the fourth return: 3 hours and 22 minutes]

"In a little over three hours, I will return to 2025. Then, I will come back again."

He paused:

"We brought 16 people and 16 cubic meters of supplies."

"Including—more cannons, more medicine, more…answers."

Guo Rugui closed her eyes.

He recalled his "last words"—"If there are waves as high as mountains, then I have come to meet the afterlife."

Now, the next generation has arrived.

They not only came, but they also saved them.

He was also told: You won, and the country you protected became very good afterward.

"It was worth it..." he murmured, "It was all worth it..."

Bian Yun stood up and looked at the north and south defense lines.

There, the wreckage of Japanese tanks was still burning, billowing black smoke.

Further away, towards the mouth of the Yangtze River, more Japanese warships were gathering.

He knew this was only a temporary calm.

But next time—

The next time he comes, he will bring not five people, but sixteen, along with more supplies and equipment.

At that point, it wasn't about defense, but about counter-offensive.

The sky was getting dark.

The Japanese troops are about to charge again.

Enraged, they were determined to capture Wusongkou at all costs.

Japanese tanks, in conjunction with infantry charges, have already advanced.

Even more terrifying is the sky.

At least a dozen Japanese bombers took off from an aircraft carrier in the East China Sea and were heading towards Wusongkou. This time, they were not acting alone; they were escorted by fighter planes.

"Commander..." Little Bean's voice trembled, "The Japanese... are going to fight to the death."

Guo Rugui put down his binoculars and looked around.

On the position, ammunition was running low, and heavy weapons were nonexistent. The only "heavy firepower" was the magical equipment that Bian Yun and his men had brought—but in limited quantities.

He turned to look at Bian Yun.

Bian Yun was squatting on the ground, his fingers rapidly swiping across the tablet.

The screen displayed real-time footage transmitted by the drone, clearly showing the location, number, and course of the Japanese troops.

"Brother Bian Yun," Guo Rugui said, "this wave... we can't hold on."

He spoke calmly, stating facts, not despair.

Bian Yun raised his head, looked at the river, and then at the sky.

Then he laughed.

There was something in that smile that Guo Rugui couldn't understand—it wasn't madness, it wasn't despair, it was... expectation.

"Deputy Brigade Commander Guo," Bian Yun stood up, "you just said that if you sail through Wusongkou after the victory of the War of Resistance, and there are waves as high as mountains, then you will be coming to see the new China."

He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:

"today--"

"I'll show you the waves of the new China."

Bian Yun turned around and walked towards a relatively flat open space behind the position.

Lu Bei, Lin Mo, Lei Gang, and Su Yue were already waiting there.

"Captain, should we take it out?" Lei Gang rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining.

Bian Yun nodded.

He closed his eyes.

Concentrate your mind.

The words came to mind:

[Time-Space Storage: Item List]

[8 disassembled parts for a 1.155mm howitzer]

[Do you want to retrieve the specified item?]

"Yes."

"Take it all out."

The air began to distort, and the latest PCL-181 155mm howitzer, just like that, "squeezed" into the Wusongkou position from the void in 1937.

The surrounding soldiers were all stunned.

Guo Rugui stared with his mouth agape, the binoculars in his hand falling to the ground.

But Bian Yun didn't have time to explain.

"Zhao Tiezhu! Zhou Wenyuan!"

"Here!" The two rushed out from the crowd—they had followed Bian Yun to Wusongkou and had been waiting for this moment.

"Assemble! Quickly!"

Zhao Tiezhu lunged at the boxes.

The two worked together so fast that their movements were so quick that afterimages appeared.

From the removal of the component to the raising of the muzzle, the time taken was—

4 minutes and 3 seconds.

It was fourteen seconds faster than in Hongkou.

The moment the cannons were raised, the Japanese tanks seemed to sense something.

Japanese division commander Shunichi Tadashi frowned as he looked at the strangely shaped heavy cannon that had suddenly appeared on the shore.

"What kind of cannon?"

The staff officer shook his head: "Never seen anything like it. Perhaps... the latest German aid?"

Yoshida sneered, "Even the Germans themselves don't have cannons that big. It's just posturing."

He lowered his binoculars and gave the order:

"Landing troops, prepare to assault the beach."

"Air force, prioritize destroying that suspicious target."

ashore.

Zhou Wenyuan's fingers flew across the fire control computer.

"In the first round of firing, special attack shells were used to strike the area with the highest concentration of Japanese tanks."

"Target locked."

"Ballistic parameters are set."

"Insurance cancelled."

"Launch preparation—"