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

49. So exciting, let's go to Henan this weekend!

At 10:45 a.m., on the Yangtze River, aboard the Yangtze.

Beside Bian Yun were thirty-one stretchers, on which lay thirty-one soldiers with serious injuries and infected wounds.

Bian Yun will then lead this group of young soldiers to the new China in 2025 to receive the best treatment there.

Zhou Shuisheng's severed leg was also carefully preserved in a refrigerated box.

This medical equipment, brought from 2025, is now protecting the hope of a boy born in 1937 to walk again.

The boy himself lay on the stretcher, his face pale, but his breathing was steady.

Su Jing transfused him with 800cc of plasma and used a potent antibiotic—a drug from 2025, considered a miracle in this era.

He opened his eyes groggily.

Bian Yun squatted down beside him, holding his uninjured right hand: "Shuisheng, you're awake?"

Zhou Shuisheng's gaze was still somewhat unfocused, only refocusing after a few seconds. He looked at Bian Yun, then at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"I..." his voice was hoarse, "Where am I?"

"On the Yangtze River," Bian Yun said, "your leg has been found and preserved. We'll take you back to the new China later, where doctors can reattach it."

Zhou Shuisheng paused, as if only then remembering that he was missing a leg. He looked down at the spot where his left leg had been—it was empty, covered with a sterile dressing.

But he didn't cry. He just bit his lip and asked, "What is the new China like?"

This question silenced the entire medical ward.

Thirty-one seriously wounded men on stretchers—sailors from the "Ninghai" and "Chutong" ships, and civilians rescued from the riverbank—all turned their heads to look at Bian Yun.

There was curiosity in their eyes.

Bian Yun stood up and looked at everyone.

In his mind, a countdown was ticking:

"Countdown to the return of the People's Republic of China - 19 minutes and 30 seconds."

Nineteen minutes later, he will lead these thirty-one people, across eighty-eight years, back to the new China.

But these 31 people will not be the last batch.

"When we return to the new China," Bian Yun said, his voice exceptionally clear in the quiet medical ward.

"You guys heal your injuries, then go see for yourselves."

"Wherever you want to go, we'll go."

"The new China is now one of the safest countries in the world."

Zhou Shuisheng thought for a moment and was the first to speak.

His voice was still weak, but he spoke very earnestly:

"I want to... go back to Zhejiang for a visit."

"Ningbo, Zhenhai, that's where my home is."

He closed his eyes, as if recalling:

"There's a river in front of my house called Yaojiang. In the summer, my brother and I would catch fish in the river. If we caught a big one, my mother would make soup for us. The soup was so delicious that I could drink three bowls."

"There's a stone bridge over the river called Shunshui Bridge. When I was little, I always ran across it, and my mother would call after me, 'Shuisheng, slow down, don't fall in!'"

There was a rice cake shop at the bridgehead, owned by a man surnamed Wang. His rice cakes were sweet and sticky. Before I joined the army, I bought a bag with the copper coins I had saved up and took it back to my mother.

My mother said, "When you come back, I'll make you something even better."

As he spoke, tears streamed down his face.

"Now... I don't know if Mother is still alive."

I wonder if Yao Jiang is still around.

I wonder if the Shunshui Bridge is still there.

He opened his eyes and looked at Bian Yun:

"Brother Bian, in Ningbo in 2025... will the Yaojiang River still exist? Will the Shunshui Bridge still exist? Will Boss Wang's pastry shop still exist?"

Bian Yun knelt down and took his hand:

"After a few more times, I will bring your mother and your younger brother back to the new China, so that you can be reunited in the new China."

"The Yaojiang River is still there, and it's even clearer now. Parks have been built on both banks, and flowers have been planted."

"Shunshui Bridge is still there; it's now a cultural relic and has been protected. There's a sign at the bridgehead detailing its history."

"As for the pastry shops..." Bian Yun smiled, "In Ningbo in 2025, there are hundreds of pastry shops. Some are run by the descendants of Boss Wang, and some are newly opened. Take your mother to try them one by one and see if they taste as good as your mother's."

Zhou Shuisheng listened, then grinned, a smile tinged with tears:

"it is good."

"Then I... should try a few more places."

After Zhou Shuisheng finished speaking, another young soldier quickly spoke up:

"My name is Yandou, and I... want to see the boat."

Bian Yun looked at him: "A boat?"

"Hmm," said Yan Dou, "Our Chinese ships nowadays."

He paused, his voice slightly hoarse:

"The oldest ship I've ever sailed was the 'Haiqi,' built during the Guangxu era. It had a leaky boiler and a speed of 12 knots."

"I've seen the Japanese ship 'Izumo,' the British ship 'Prince of Wales,' and the American ship 'Enterprise.'"

"I just wonder... when will China have a ship like that?"

He looked at Bian Yun, his eyes filled with a deep, long-suppressed yearning:

"2025, is it coming?"

Bian Yun nodded: "I've got it."

How big is it?

"Our largest ship right now is called an aircraft carrier. One of them has a displacement twenty times that of the 'Ninghai'. The deck is over 300 meters long and can accommodate 70 or 80 aircraft."

Salt Bean's eyes widened instantly: "Twenty times?! More than three hundred meters?!"

"That's right," Bian Yun continued, "We also have 10,000-ton destroyers—warships much larger than the 'Yangtze River.' We have nuclear submarines that can stay underwater for months. We have amphibious assault ships, supply ships, hospital ships… Our navy can now reach any corner of the world."

Yan Dou listened, his lips trembling.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his eyes were red.

"good……"

"Then... I'd like to see these ships."

"No need to go up, just look from the shore and see how they look when they're docked in the harbor."

"Look at our Chinese ships... finally able to hold their heads high and stop there."

"Let the whole world see."

The medical pod then became lively.

The thirty-one wounded soldiers, one after another, talked about the places they wanted to see.

Zhang Mingliang, a pilot from Henan, suffered severe burns to his right arm, but still spoke with great vigor:

"I want to go back to my maternal grandmother's village in Shangqiu. I want to see... what Zhangzhuang will be like in 2025."

Bian Yun wrote it down: "Okay, I'll take you there."

Another person asked, "In 2025... will anyone still be farming?"

"Yes," Bian Yun said, "but now it's called 'modern agriculture.' We use machines for sowing and drones for spraying pesticides, and the yield is over 1,000 jin per mu."

His eyes widened in disbelief: "Over a thousand jin?! That's a lot of grain..."

"Enough to feed the entire nation, with surplus to export abroad."

The young soldier stared blankly for a long time, then grinned, a silly grin on his face.

"My dad... how happy he would be if he could live to 2025..."

There was another woman named Li Xiuying, who was rescued from the ruins by the river. Her husband and parents-in-law had died in the Japanese artillery fire, and she herself had a broken left leg—she asked timidly:

"Can women...women go too?"

"Yes." Bian Yun squatted down. "By 2025, men and women will be equal. Women will be able to go to school, work, serve in the military, and fly planes and sail ships."

Li Xiuying's eyes lit up: "Really?"

"real."

"Then..." she said softly, "I want to go to school. I've never been to school, I only know a few words. I want to... be like a man, to study, to learn to read, to understand principles."

"Okay," Bian Yun said, "I'll take you to school."

One wish after another.

They wanted to see what the Yangtze River, which they had risked their lives to protect, would look like 88 years later.

I want to experience what it's like to live without worrying about the Japanese invaders...

Bian Yun listened and took notes.

He held the tablet computer that Su Jing handed him and typed in it, one word at a time.

For every wish entered, he would say: I will definitely take you there.

Just then, the tablet screen flickered.

Then, a flood of comments appeared.

—That was a message sent by a viewer in 2025 via a live broadcast.

At first there were only one or two:

"【Ningbo, Zhejiang】Little brother Shuisheng, the Yaojiang River is still here, the Shunshui Bridge is still here, and there are even more pastry shops now. We're waiting for you to come back, and your sister will take you to eat your way through Ningbo!"

[Family of Pastry Makers]: "Shuisheng! I'm Boss Wang's great-grandson! The pastry shop is still open! We have over thirty flavors now! We'll provide plenty for you when you come back!"

Then, a torrent of comments poured in from every corner of China.

Every comment on the screen is an invitation.

Invite these British people from 1937 to come "home" for a visit.

Invite those who risked their lives for today to come and see what it's like now.

Bian Yun held up the tablet computer to show everyone around her.

"Look," he said, "the people of 2025 are speaking to you."

The wounded soldiers stared wide-eyed at the scrolling text on the screen.

They are illiterate—many of them can't even write their own names.

A fifteen-year-old soldier—Chen Xiaogou—pointed at a comment on the screen: "This one! What does this one say?"

Bian Yunnian said:

[Chengdu Panda Keeper]: "Come see the pandas! They're so round and chubby! They even hug your legs!"

Onboard the Yangtze River, someone immediately raised their hand—"I want to see pandas!"

Bian Yun then read aloud: [Qingdao Beer Festival Volunteer]: "Come to Qingdao! Drink beer! Eat clams! The beer festival in summer is so lively!"

"I want to drink beer!"

【Guilin's scenery is the best under heaven】: "Come see the scenery! Take a bamboo raft on the Li River, the water is so clear you can see the bottom!"

"I want to ride a bamboo raft!"

Everyone pointed at the comments section, chatting and discussing where to go, what to eat, and what to watch.

The atmosphere was... joyful, warm, and full of hope.

Because they are not going to an unfamiliar future.

Instead... I want to go home.

Chen Xiaogou, whose eyes were burned, hugged Bian Yun and said with a grin:

"Brother Bian Yun, can you recommend some good places?"

Everyone looked at Bian Yun.

Yes, Bian Yun came in 2025.

He has seen the new China.

He knows where the good places are.

Bian Yun smiled.