Bright Sword: I built Italian cannons for Li Yunlong

When the puppet troops saw the Eighth Route Army approaching, they immediately begged for mercy, saying, "Grandpa Eighth Route Army, spare our lives! We surrender! The Japanese devils forced us to do it!"

A weasel-faced translator crawled out from behind the truck, raised his hands high, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Surrender! Surrender! Don't shoot!"

Li Yunlong picked at his ear and turned to ask Zhang Dabiao.

"What the hell is that bastard yelling about?"

Zhang Dabiao was taken aback, then saw the sly glint in Li Yunlong's eyes.

He's followed Li Yunlong for so long, how could he not understand what he meant?

"Commander, they're thinking of... since the political commissar isn't here."

Zhang Dabiao, with a stern face, shouted, "Commander, this traitorous dog seems to be shouting that he will never surrender!"

Li Yunlong nodded and waved.

"Damn it, they actually dare not surrender, what's the point of keeping them alive? Brothers, send them on their way."

The translator's eyes widened, and before he could even offer an explanation, a gunshot rang out.

After the gunfire subsided, there wasn't a single enemy left standing on the battlefield.

Li Yunlong walked to the last two trucks that hadn't been burned, lifted the tarpaulin, and looked inside at the various supplies and raw materials.

Immediately, a grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Looking at Zhang Dabiao approaching, he shouted, "Hurry up, move everything you can, and bring those two heavy machine guns too."

He walked to the front of the car, looking somewhat smug.

"Haha, a while ago, Lao Zhou asked me to get him a few engines, and here they are!"

Zhang Dabiao leaned over with a wicked grin, and urged Li Yunlong, "Commander, Advisor Zhou will definitely like it. You'd better get Advisor Zhou to get us some good stuff this time."

Li Yunlong confidently stated, "With you, the regimental commander, in charge, how could there be a shortage of good stuff?"

Li Yunlong waved his hand and said, "Brothers, take apart these two lumps of iron, take all the parts, and don't leave the Japanese with a single wire."

The soldiers got busy loading the captured supplies onto the mules and horses.

Some climbed onto trucks to dismantle the engines, and the rifles next to the Japanese soldiers' corpses were collected, tied up, and thrown onto the mules' backs.

The embers of the incendiary bomb were still smoking, and the air was filled with the smell of burning and blood.

Standing beside Li Yunlong, Zhang Dabiao watched the soldiers busily cleaning up the battlefield and couldn't help but sigh:

"Commander, that battle was fucking exhilarating! You didn't see that Japanese soldier's expression just now. As soon as the four heavy machine guns opened fire, his face turned green."

Li Yunlong chuckled, took out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and squinted at the battlefield before him.

"This is nothing! Once Lao Zhou finishes manufacturing the shells, I'll show those Japanese devils what real firepower coverage is all about."

He exhaled a smoke ring, the smoke rising slowly in the twilight.

In the distance, the soldiers were still busy.

The following day, at the Huangyadong Arsenal, the weather was fine.

When Zhou Zhen saw that another squad of soldiers was going up the mountain to cut down hardwood needed to make charcoal, he had an idea to go out with them, stretch his muscles and bones, and also see the long-lost mountain scenery.

Zhao Dajiang was somewhat hesitant, but seeing that Zhou Zhen was in good spirits and had several soldiers accompanying him for protection, he reluctantly agreed.

But before leaving, he repeatedly told me to be careful and to come back soon.

The group climbed the mountain along the familiar, rugged path.

In April, the Taihang Mountains are beginning to show signs of green. On the sunny slopes, sporadic wild grasses are sprouting new green shoots, and occasionally, clusters of tenacious wildflowers can be seen blooming in the crevices of the cliffs, swaying gently in the wind.

The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of earth and pine needles.

However, when Zhou Zhen climbed to a hillside with a wide view and looked out, the slight comfort he felt from the mountain scenery was quickly replaced by a complex sense of heaviness.

The mountains in front of us are still majestic and vigorous, but the trees on the nearby slopes are much sparser.

The forest, which should have been much denser, now has patches of bare ground exposed here and there, like unsightly shaved scars.

These are all traces left by the arsenal organizing manpower to continuously cut down hardwoods in order to rush the production of activated carbon.

Shanxi is not rich in forest resources, especially in the mountainous areas controlled by the revolutionary base, where every mature tree is precious.

Now, in order to deal with the possible use of poison gas by the Japanese, they have no choice but to cut down these precious trees one by one.

But it's easy to cut it down, but difficult for it to grow back.

Zhou Zhen's gaze passed over these "scars" and landed on the distant mountains.

In those more distant places, on those mountains and rivers beyond the reach of sight, there are countless such "scars".

The wounds inflicted on this ancient land by the iron hooves and artillery fire of the Japanese invaders are a thousand times, ten thousand times, deeper than the logging marks in these mountains and forests.

The rich Northeast fell to the Japanese, the prosperous Jiangnan region was ravaged, and the Central Plains were engulfed in flames of war...

This once magnificent and peaceful land is now scarred and ravaged by the invaders.

The people living on this land are suffering immense pain from war, displacement, hunger, and death.

At this moment, a surge of intense emotions welled up in his heart, a mixture of sorrow for the devastation of his homeland and resentment towards the atrocities committed by the invaders.

"When the Central Plains are fully recovered, we will make the Japanese devils bleed to nourish our land."

"One day, I will definitely drive these scum out of China completely. When I'm feeling better, I'll definitely get you some new 'gifts'."

After returning from the mountain, Zhou Zhen's emotions remained unsettled for a long time.

On the afternoon he returned from the mountain, he was leaning against the adobe wall outside his dormitory, lazily organizing notes on the process flow and key parameters for producing activated carbon, basking in the warm sunlight.

He planned to summarize the findings systematically and submit them to headquarters so that they could be promoted in other base areas.

He wrote very carefully, recording in detail everything from wood selection, carbonization temperature, key points of activation furnace operation, steam and pressure control, alkali soaking concentration and time, and simple testing methods.

Just as he was writing the last small section about the preparation and usage precautions of wood ash slurry, a timid yet somewhat childish voice rang out beside him.

"Factory Manager Brother..."

Zhou Zhen looked up and saw a little girl, about seven or eight years old, with two sparse braids and her face flushed red from the mountain wind, standing in front of him holding a rough pottery bowl with a chipped edge.

The bowl was filled with dark purple mulberries, each about the size of a thumb, round and plump, glistening with dewdrops, looking exceptionally fresh and tempting.

The girl wore an old cotton coat that was patched but clean. Her big eyes blinked as she looked at him, a little shy but full of curiosity.

Zhou Zhen recognized her as the daughter of Chen Dasao, who was in charge of logistics at the factory; her nickname was Ya Ya.

He put down his pen and smiled gently, "Oh, it's Ya Ya. What's up? What's this?"

Ya Ya held the ceramic bowl high with all her might, her voice clear and crisp: "Factory Manager, this is what my mother and I picked on the sunny slope of the back hill today. It's so sweet."

Mother said you are a great hero, helping our warrior uncles and aunts make weapons to fight bad guys and protect us.

Ya Ya thought that if she picked mulberries for her brother, the factory manager, he would have strength and be able to make more and better things to drive away the bad devils!