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

"That's the kind of spirit I've been looking for!"

General Wang Kangmei walked up to Lu Bei and Bian Yun, his gaze sweeping over the two men inch by inch.

"Is everything ready?"

"Ready!" Bian Yun and Lu Bei stood at attention simultaneously.

The old general nodded, his gaze lingering on Bian Yun's face.

"Comrade Bian Yun," he said, his voice lower than before, "you must remember, what you store in your space is not just weapons."

"That was a nation's answer to those young people eighty-eight years later—"

"We've made the bullets you wanted."

"The plane you've been waiting for has taken to the skies."

"The tanks you risked your lives to block can now be blown apart by a single grenade."

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving:

"Go back to 1937 and tell them—"

"Future generations of descendants."

"Never forgotten."

…………

General Wang Kangmei left, leaving only Bian Yun and Lu Bei in the conference room.

Bian Yun began to memorize the location of every item in the space, how to use it, and what to use in what situation.

"Comrade Bian Yun," Lu Bei suddenly called out to him.

Bian Yun looked up.

Lu Bei handed over a compressed biscuit. It wasn't a whole biscuit; it was just a small corner of the package that had been opened.

"Try it," Lu Bei said. "The latest model from 2025. One piece will last a day. But the taste..." He rarely smiled, "It's about the same as chewing wood."

Bian Yun took it and put it in her mouth.

It really does feel like wood. Hard, dry, and requires a lot of chewing.

But slowly, a faint salty taste and wheat aroma spread in the mouth.

"Brothers in 1937," Lu Bei looked out the window, "many of them only had one meal of thin porridge a day. So thin you could see your face clearly."

He turned back to look at Bian Yun:

"I don't plan to come back right away after this trip."

Bian Yun stopped chewing.

"And you, you can travel through time a few more times," Lu Bei continued, his tone as calm as if he were discussing what to have for dinner.

"Bring back more people. Bring back those brothers who would have died, been crippled, or disappeared into history."

"Let them have a taste too—" He pointed to the compressed biscuit in Bian Yun's mouth, "our new China's current 'wooden'."

"Then I'll take them out for hot pot, roast duck, and all sorts of delicious food they've never tried before."

…………

[Countdown to Zeroing Out: 2 hours 11 minutes]

Bian Yun arrived at the military hospital. The special ward was at the end of the corridor.

Pushing open the door, I saw three or four doctors and nurses in white coats surrounding the bed.

Xiao Sichuan lay in the hospital bed, his young body bearing fresh gunshot wounds and infections, as well as numerous old scars.

Just then, a young nurse suddenly turned around, her shoulders shaking.

She covered her mouth with her hand, but suppressed sobs still escaped.

Then another doctor's eyes also reddened.

Everyone has seen wounds, blood, and death. But no one has ever seen a body like this—

What's etched on their bodies isn't a medical record, but a piece of history they've only read about in textbooks.

Little Sichuan slowly woke up.

He stared blankly at the white ceiling, then at the person in the white coat.

Finally, his gaze fell on Bian Yun's face.

"...Brother Bian...?"

His voice was hoarse and had a heavy Sichuan accent.

Bian Yun sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned closer:

"It's me. What do you think?"

Little Sichuan blinked, as if to confirm that this wasn't a dream:

"Where...is this?"

"2025," Bian Yun replied.

"The New China. You're in the hospital."

Little Sichuan slowly turned his head and looked out the window—

High-rise buildings. The glass curtain walls reflect the neon lights.

In the distance, the TV tower was lit up with red dots, and further away, the lights of flights glided slowly across the night sky like moving stars.

A tear rolled down his cheek without warning.

It slid across my temples and seeped into my pillow.

"We..." His lips trembled, "We...we really won?"

Bian Yun grasped his hand. The hand was still weak, but it was warm.

"We won," he said. "The Japanese surrendered long ago. Now, no one dares to bully China."

Little Sichuan smiled.

That was the first time Bian Yun had ever seen him smile.

"...That's...good." He murmured, his eyes still fixed on the dazzling lights outside the window. "Can the company commander and the others...see it?"

Bian Yun looked at the countdown in her mind.

【00:58:17】

"I can see them," he said. "I'll bring them to see."

"I will bring medicine back, weapons back, and food back."

"I will tell Company Commander Yao, and I will tell every brother who is still holding out—"

"You don't need to wait so long for reinforcements."

"Because China 88 years from now will be your allies."

The city lights outside the window flowed like a silent, dazzling river.

The light reflected in the young Sichuanese eyes, like a star finally shining in the blood-red night sky of 1937.

…………

Ten minutes before the countdown reaches zero.

When Bian Yun returned to the military region, Lu Bei was already waiting for him.

General Wang Kangmei stood twenty meters away, wearing only a crisp civilian uniform, without an overcoat. The night wind ruffled his gray hair, but he stood like a mountain.

He raised his hand in salute.

All the soldiers present raised their hands in unison. The sound of their arms rising was like a gust of wind sweeping across a wheat field.

Bian Yun returned the gift.

Lu Bei returned the gift.

Bian Yun looked up at the night sky in 2025.

Against the deep blue sky, the city lights tinged the low-lying clouds with a warm orange hue.

A faint chime could be heard in the distance—it was the clock tower in the city center striking the hour.

It's 10 o'clock.

He suddenly remembered his grandfather.

The old man who always loved to sit on the balcony basking in the sun always had his medals jingling. He always said:

"Yunwazi, you haven't experienced it... Back then, the sky was always blood red."

Now, Bian Yun is going to see that blood-red sky.

He closed his eyes.

The numbers on the eye sockets began their final jumps:

【00:00:03】

He heard Lu Bei taking deep breaths beside him.

【00:00:02】

He heard faint sounds of typical 2025 nightlife in the distance—car horns, the hustle and bustle of the night market, and children's laughter.

【00:00:01】

[Begin the Time Travel]

…………

"We are not here to change history."

"We're going to fulfill that embrace that should have been made eighty-eight years ago."

—Bian Yun, the operation is finally confirmed