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

"Little Guizhou's fever has subsided!"

The medic's shouts rang out, filled with a joyful, almost tearful tone:

"Those medicines...those medicines are truly amazing!"

Bian Yun turned his head and saw that several wounded soldiers who had been in a semi-conscious state were being fed a pale yellow liquid.

The antibiotics injected into the bloodstream are like invisible torches, rekindling life in the decaying body.

But out of the corner of his eye, he saw three people lying in the corner.

They refused the injection.

"I won't fight." The man on the far left was ashen-faced, his abdominal bandage seeping black blood, but his voice was unusually clear. "My intestines are coming out; I won't survive. Leave the medicine for the brothers who can live."

"Me too," said the young soldier in the middle, his right leg below the knee a bloody mess. "My leg's ruined; it'll only be a burden going back. Let's save our medicine."

The third one didn't speak, he just shook his head. He had been shot in the chest, and his breathing made a hissing sound.

The medic was so anxious that tears streamed down his face: "This is new medicine! It can save lives!"

"New drugs should be given to those who are truly useful." The man, shot in the abdomen, closed his eyes. "Don't waste them."

Bian Yun walked over and squatted down.

The transparent words quietly appeared in the air before his eyes:

[Countdown to the 2025 Reunification of the People's Republic of China: 9 hours and 47 minutes]

[Number of players eligible to return: 4]

[Returnable items: 4 cubic meters]

"Give them their medicine," Bian Yun said to the medic, then looked at the three seriously wounded soldiers. "Don't be stingy. Hold on for another ten hours, and I'll take you back to the new China."

The three wounded soldiers opened their eyes at the same time.

"Brother Bian Yun..." The man with a bullet wound in his abdomen smiled bitterly, "You're a good man, but don't try to fool us. Ten hours from now? We'll be lucky to survive until nightfall."

"I'm not kidding you." Bian Yun said, each word distinct. "In ten hours, I will be able to take three people through time and space back to 2025. There are the best hospitals and the best doctors there. Your injuries can be treated there."

The young soldier's eyes widened: "Time travel...?"

"I can vouch for you," Lu Bei's voice came from the stairwell.

He had just come down from the sniping position on the third floor, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Bian Yun and I are from the new China in 2025. The weapons and medicines you see were all made in China 88 years from now."

Lu Bei grasped the young soldier's hand: "Little Sichuan—that nineteen-year-old Sichuan soldier in your battalion—is now in a hospital in 2025. His leg was saved, his fever subsided, and he even ate a bowl of porridge this morning."

"Commander Yao can also testify." Lu Bei looked at Yao Ziqing, who was walking over in a hurry.

Yao Qing nodded emphatically, his voice choked with emotion: "Brothers, take the medicine. What Brother Bian Yun said... is all true."

He looked around, at every face:

"Otherwise, where do you think those small flying planes, those guns that can penetrate a kilometer in one shot, those iron lumps that can blow up tanks—came from?"

"It's the new China," Yao Qing said, emphasizing each word. "The new China, eighty-eight years later, has come to support us."

When the needle pierced his skin, the man who had been shot in the abdomen finally cried.

There was no sound, only tears streaming down the wrinkles around her eyes, mixing with the blood in her ears.

"The new China..." he murmured, "What is the new China like?"

"Tall buildings, lots of tall buildings," Bian Yun said softly. "The roads are wide, and there are many cars. The people have enough to eat, and the children can go to school. The Japanese... dare not bully us anymore."

The man closed his eyes and smiled: "Well... I have to go take a look."

"I'm going too," the young soldier said. "He's lost his leg... I want to go see him too."

"Take me with you," the soldier, shot in the chest, finally spoke, his voice hoarse.

The medicine works very quickly.

Twenty minutes later, the breathing of the three seriously injured men stabilized. Antibiotics began to fight the infection, plasma substitutes maintained their blood pressure, and painkillers put them into a deep sleep.

It wasn't a coma, it was a truly hopeful sleep.

Bian Yun walked to the supply box, took out a few compressed biscuits, and unpacked them.

A young soldier with a bandage wrapped around his arm approached timidly and asked, "Brother Bian, is this... dry rations?"

"Hmm. Try it." Bian Yun broke off a small piece and handed it to him.

The young soldier carefully put it in his mouth and chewed slowly. His eyes widened: "No...it doesn't hurt my throat? And it's salty? What...what kind of noodles are these made of?"

"It's not noodles, it's a compressed nutritional block." Bian Yun handed him a whole block. "This one is enough to keep you from getting hungry all day."

The young soldier held the grayish-yellow "brick" as if it were a treasure. He took small sips, closing his eyes with each sip to savor it carefully.

Several other wounded soldiers nearby also received small pieces. Some, reluctant to eat them, tucked them into their pockets: "I'll save them for tonight..."

"No need to save," Bian Yun said. "There's plenty more."

When he said "there's still a lot," my heart ached—in reality, there wasn't much. Two cubic meters of supplies were distributed among more than six hundred people, meaning each person could only receive a small amount.

But next time, it will be 4 cubic meters.

The next time, 8 cubic meters.

He carried the entire new China's aircraft carrier fleet with him until 1937.

After eating a quick bite, Bian Yun went to find Yao Qing, who was squatting by the dilapidated window, marking a crumpled map with a pencil.

"Battalion Commander Yao," Bian Yun said, "we can't just sit here and wait to die. I'm going to take those three seriously wounded soldiers back in ten hours, and in those ten hours, I want to do something more useful."

Yao Qing looked up, her eyes bloodshot but bright: "What do you want to do?"

"Take the initiative." Bian Yun crouched down, looking at the map. "Where is the most dangerous place? Where is support most needed?"

Yao Qing's pencil tip landed somewhere on the map.

"Baoshan County, guarding the strategic pass of Wusongkou." He circled it with his pen, "Surrounded by rivers on three sides, with a prominent terrain, it was a strategic choke point that the Japanese army would fight for. If it fell, the gateway to Shanghai would be wide open."

The pen tip moved southeast and stopped on a building marker:

"This is the Baoshan Bank building. It's a reinforced concrete structure, easy to defend and difficult to attack. The company guarding it is the Second Company, led by Company Commander Liu Xiao, my classmate from Huangpu Military Academy."

His voice lowered:

"We and the Second Company were cut off by the Japanese army. The bank building was the main target of the Japanese attack, even more so than our location."

Yao Qing looked at Bian Yun, her eyes filled with hope: "Can we get through? Like you guys did today when you took down the tanks—surprise them and give them a good beating?"

Bian Yun looked at Lu Bei. Lu Bei was already checking the remaining ammunition on his sniper rifle.

"No problem." Lu Bei looked up.

"I'll send people to support you," Yao Qing said excitedly.

"Too many people make us a bigger target." Bian Yun stood up. "Just Lu Bei and I will go. We have night vision goggles and drones for reconnaissance, so we can bypass them."

Before setting off, Bian Yun tried to contact 2025.

He took out the black metal box given to him by Academician Yuan An, unfolded the folded solar panel, and pressed the communication button.

wait.

Only the hissing sound of electricity could be heard.

"Not for now," Bian Yun shook his head. "There's no response over there. Perhaps the flow of time is different, or..."

He didn't finish his sentence. Or perhaps, communication between two different time periods is more difficult to establish than imagined.

Lu Bei patted him on the shoulder: "Save people first. We can try the communication later."

After saying that, the two set off, both carrying heavy equipment—sniper rifles, drones, ammunition, medical kits, and a small amount of medicine left for the guards at the bank building.

Yao Ziqing led the soldiers who were still able to stand, and they stood in formation behind them.

There was no farewell drink, no grand pronouncements.

Yao Qing simply stepped forward, gave Bian Yun a tight hug, and then hugged Lu Bei.

"Come back alive," he whispered in their ears. "We haven't even seen the new China yet."

Then he stepped back and raised his right hand.

brush--

All soldiers saluted at the same time.

More than six hundred gazes, heavy, burning, and filled with something indescribable, were fixed on the two men's backs.

Bian Yun returned the greeting. Lu Bei returned the greeting.

Then he turned and headed towards another battlefield.

………………

"We brought not only supplies, but also an answer—to tell them that all the sacrifices have been worthwhile."

—Bian Yun's Action Diary: The Second Crossing