A courtyard house; Li Yunlong, a subordinate of the deputy director of Harbin Military Engineering I

When Ding Wei received the order from the general command, he was squatting by the east side of the artillery position, eating a cold steamed bun.

He swallowed the last bite, brushed the crumbs off his bread, turned and yelled at the staff officer:

"Notify all artillery positions to deploy according to the plan! Form a funnel formation, with coordinated fire from the east and west!"

Li Yunlong issued the same order from the west side.

He stood beside the gun emplacement, watching the soldiers lift the camouflage netting, and the gun barrel slowly rose, gleaming with a cold, bluish-gray light in the morning glow.

He patted the cannon barrel, the calluses on his palms rustling against the cold metal.

It would be a lie to say I wasn't nervous.

In the past few years, the White Army's reconnaissance and bomber planes have been able to roam freely along the coast of Fujian Province. Anti-aircraft guns can hit them like fireworks, unable to reach or stop them.

Even the best result would require thousands of shells to exchange for one plane!

But today is different. A few hours ago, they watched as two reconnaissance planes exploded in mid-air, with pieces of iron and charred human bodies falling from the sky and crashing onto the mudflats, emitting wisps of smoke.

I was nervous, but mostly excited.

Suddenly, a burst of light appeared on the sea surface, and the coastal defense guns and naval guns in the direction of Kinmen opened fire simultaneously.

Shells whistled and crashed onto the beachhead of Dongshan Island, sending up clouds of sand and smoke.

The shelling lasted for nearly twenty minutes, turning the entire coastline upside down and leaving the once smooth mudflats pitted and uneven.

The shelling had just stopped when the roar of airplane engines could be heard in the distance.

The sound went from indistinct to clear, from a low buzzing to a sharp whistling, like a swarm of wasps skimming the surface of the sea.

All the gunners tensed up instantly.

His ears perked up, his eyes were fixed on the dark sky, and his hands gripped the control stick so tightly that his knuckles turned white, like iron clamps, not daring to relax for a moment.

As Roosevelt piloted his F-47N fighter jet, he saw the coastline shrouded in darkness through the porthole.

He was an ace pilot of the 26th Squadron of the White Army Air Force, winning every battle and being hailed as a "hero who overcomes difficulties." His plane was painted with seven red stars representing the kills he had made.

The mission was simple: fly to the coast of Fujian Province, drop several hundred kilograms of aerial bombs carried under the fuselage onto the People's Liberation Army's coastal defense positions, and then pull up and return to base. He had done this several times before, and each time he had escaped unscathed.

"Captain Luo Fujie, have you found the target?" came the voice of Lieutenant Tian Xisan, the wingman, through the earpiece.

Luo Fujie frowned, feeling as if something was gaping in the pitch-black ground opposite them, waiting for them to enter.

"Tian Xisan, don't you feel... something's not quite right?"

"Damn it!" A curse in Cantonese suddenly broke through the channel; it was their squad leader.

Don't boost others' morale and diminish your own!

Complete the task as quickly as possible, then go back and reload to fire!

First climb, then dive, drop the bombs, then climb back to base!

Squadron 26 leads the way, the rest of the squadrons bring up the rear!

Luo Fujie suppressed his unease and pushed the lever to increase the height.

The nose of the plane lifted, and the sea surface rapidly shrank in his field of vision, turning into a blurry gray expanse.

As he climbed, he scanned the ground, trying to find any trace of the anti-aircraft positions in the darkness, but he could see nothing except for a few scattered campfires and lights.

"Squad leader, it's too dark on the ground, we can't see the target clearly." Tian Xisan's voice came through the earpiece, tinged with hesitation.

"Then search at low altitude!" The squadron leader's tone left no room for negotiation. "Fly lower, make sure you can see clearly before you drop!"

The three lead planes simultaneously pushed off the control stick and dived, their wings cutting through the morning mist, their altitude dropping sharply from 5,000 meters to 3,000 meters.

The roar of the engines swept across the sea, making the eardrums of the soldiers at the gun emplacements go numb.

.....

In a concealed fortification in the distance, Li Yunlong looked at the airspace through binoculars. Seeing the White Army's fighter jets being so cautious, he felt a little anxious.

They were both flying at an altitude of around 2,000 meters, but suddenly they climbed again. Zhang Dabiao, who was next to me, said anxiously.

"Old Li, what should we do? Why are these White bandits so cunning?"

Half of them are currently within our full firing range; the other half, if they don't, will likely have to escape.

Li Yunlong put down his binoculars and rubbed the stubble on his chin. He thought for a moment, then smiled and said:

"I may not have much experience shooting down planes, but ambushing is a basic skill for me, Old Li."

He pointed to the sky, "In this situation, we should either let them go, there's no rush."

"You either work like crazy, but that's risky."

He was indeed in a bit of a dilemma.

Those fighter jets on the periphery were clearly probing. If they turned around and bypassed Dongshan Island to go straight into the heart of the territory, the subsequent trouble would be even greater.

Li Yunlong, his face dark, raised his binoculars again for a look, but the dark figures in his field of vision were still circling on the periphery, refusing to venture into the inner circle.

Xing Zhiguo, standing to the other side, was also anxious. He lowered his voice and said:

"Old Li, if we don't act now, our artillery position will be exposed once they realize what's happening."

"By then, it will be too late to move."

His heart was burning with rage, while the fighter jets were like flies, impossible to shoo away or hit.

On the east side, Ding Wei was also squatting beside the gun emplacement, holding a telescope in his hand, his brows furrowed in worry.

He watched as the triangular formation split into two groups, one group approaching Dongshan Island at low altitude, while the other group began to circle outwards.

He weighed the options in his mind over and over again—if he attacked, the two squadrons behind him would definitely turn around and run away;

If we don't fire, and they get around to our backs, our artillery position will become nothing but a pile of scrap metal.

Ding Wei put down his binoculars, patted the dew off the cannon barrel, and muttered a curse under his breath:

"Damn it, this battle is so frustrating."

Unable to make up his mind, he had his staff call the headquarters and wait for instructions.

While Li Yunlong on the west side was still struggling with his decision, the commander-in-chief called.

Upon hearing Zhang Renfeng's voice, he immediately straightened his back.

The first thing he said on the other end of the phone was, "Fuck you, Li Yunlong, what are you standing there for?"

His tone carried a fierce temper honed from the battlefield.

"Don't worry about the bottles and jars, don't hesitate, just fire! I'll cover for you in case anything happens!!!"

Li Yunlong froze for a moment, holding the receiver. He suddenly realized that air combat was fundamentally different from ground warfare—

In the past, he made the decisions to carry out ambushes himself, but this time he only needed to follow orders and execute them to the fullest extent.

He hung up the phone, turned around, and yelled at Zhang Dabiao, "Fire!!!!"