Southern guerrilla warfare: I led the Red Seventh Army Corps to amassed a million troops.

On the Phoenix Mountain position, the Nationalist army's third assault was repelled once again.

This time it was even worse than the previous two.

He Wending was probably driven to desperation by the Red Army's successive capture of the outer positions, so he sent two battalions up in one go.

A dense crowd surged up the hillside, and from a distance, it was somewhat eerie.

After the signalmen on the mountaintop gave the signal, the mortar positions behind hesitated for a moment before finally opening fire.

The shells fell and exploded in the charging ranks.

More than a dozen shots were fired in quick succession, sending dirt flying up the hillside. Nationalist soldiers were knocked off their feet, and the once orderly lines of troops instantly became crooked and twisted.

Some people were screaming, some were cursing, and a few soldiers who were stunned by the explosion were standing in circles, only to be knocked off their feet by people rushing up from behind.

"Attack!" Zheng Sanjiang gave the order.

The six machine guns deployed on the left and right flanks opened fire simultaneously, spitting out deadly flames, and the crossfire carved bloody grooves into the hillside.

The scene before my eyes was like a giant bowling alley, with wave after wave of bowlers being knocked to the ground.

To the Red Army, this was a sight to behold. Revenge had been avenged, and it was a cause for great satisfaction.

The Nationalist soldiers who were being beaten didn't think that way. The Nationalist government only gave them so little money. They were willing to risk their lives, but they couldn't just rush to their deaths!

First, a few soldiers in the back row turned and ran.

Then, like dominoes, the entire battle line collapsed from back to front.

The officers shouted themselves hoarse but couldn't stop them. Some were even pushed to the ground by the fleeing soldiers and nearly trampled to death.

"Withdraw! Withdraw!" He Wending saw this scene through his binoculars and, in a fit of anger, threw the binoculars to the ground, shattering the lenses.

He felt extremely frustrated. There was nothing wrong with his command, so why did he end up with this bunch of good-for-nothings?

On the hillside, Ye Fei put down his binoculars and shook his head: "This He Wending is quite capable. He knows he can't just hold out indefinitely. It's a pity his soldiers are too incompetent."

Zheng Sanjiang took out a cigarette from his pocket, struck a match, lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled a cloud of white smoke.

"Equipment and training are secondary. If the warlord's troops get serious, they can still fight us to a standstill. But the newly formed 10th Division..."

"Hehe, all I can say is that their current performance is worthy of the military pay Nanjing is paying them."

Just as Ye Fei was about to reply, a telegraph operator came running up the mountain, panting: "Political Commissar! Urgent telegram from the Corps Headquarters!"

Ye Fei took the telegram and looked down at it.

Zheng Sanjiang also came over, squinting as he glanced at the paper.

The telegram was short, but it contained a lot of information.

Zhou Zeyuan's wording was very restrained; he did not issue any orders, but simply laid out the current overall situation as it was.

The last line reads: "The above information is for your reference. The situation on the front lines is constantly changing, and you are given the authority to make decisions on the spot. Whether to fight or retreat is your decision."

After reading it, Ye Fei took a slight breath and felt a sudden heat rising in his chest.

"What's wrong?" Zheng Sanjiang asked.

Ye Fei stared at the telegram and muttered, "I never imagined that I, who have just become a division-level leader, would be shouldering such a crucial task in the entire war."

Zheng Sanjiang smiled and teased, "How are you? Feeling a lot of pressure?"

"Pressure? What pressure? The word doesn't even exist in my dictionary." Ye Fei turned to look at him, a slight smile playing on his lips.

His expression turned serious. "I just find it a little strange. Isn't Commander Zhou a bit too optimistic about me? We've never met before, how does he know I have this ability? What if he's misjudged me and messed up the mission..."

Zheng Sanjiang chuckled, "What's so strange about that? Our corps commander has a sharp eye. I heard that when he first joined the army, he could tell at a glance that Chief of Staff Su had the talent of a great general. The leaders didn't think much of it, but later events proved that his judgment was absolutely brilliant."

"Hiss! So, does that mean I also have the talent of a great general?"

Ye Fei's eyes widened in disbelief. He thought to himself, "Am I that capable? How come I didn't know?"

"Well, I don't know then. Anyway, the legion commander hasn't misjudged anyone."

Zheng Sanjiang gestured with his chin toward Ye Fei, "Come on, our future General Ye, tell me, what should we do next?"

Ye Fei calmed himself down and looked beyond Ningde City towards the far south.

"The comrades from the maritime guerrillas have sent word that many ships have arrived from Fu'an. The 49th Division is probably preparing to land from the sea, and the enemy could arrive at any moment."

He turned around and faced Zheng Sanjiang: "I'm not willing to retreat at this time."

Zheng Sanjiang, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, waited for him to continue.

"The telegram made it very clear that we cannot abandon the First and Third Divisions and only care about our own safety. That is not what revolutionaries should do."

"So you mean... keep fighting?"

"That's right, but we need to change our approach."

Ye Fei picked up a tree branch and drew two circles on the ground, one representing Ningde and the other representing the Nanjishan position.

An arrow pointing to Ningde was drawn between the two circles.

"What I mean is, leave only one company outside Ningde City to continue the feigned attack, and send the rest of the troops south."

As he spoke, he changed the direction of the arrow again.

Zheng Sanjiang's eyes lit up. "Great idea! This counterattack is a direct hit to He Wending's ass!"

"The flanking force will attack from the rear, forming a pincer movement with our main force, and wipe them out!"

Ye Fei's expression froze, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Although the language is a bit rough, the metaphor is indeed vivid and descriptive.

"That's roughly the idea." He cleared his throat, steer the conversation back on track, "But this is also a race against time with the Nationalist army. It's a matter of seeing if their reinforcements arrive faster, or if we can take the mountain faster. There are still some risks involved."

He drew another line on the ground with a twig, pointing westward from Ningde: "So I have a backup plan. If the attack fails, the entire army will retreat westward immediately."

"Westward? We're going to meet up with Chief of Staff Soviet?"

"Of course not." Ye Fei stood up and threw the tree branch aside. "We're still a bit far from the main battlefield, and it's easy for them to catch up from behind while we're marching. What I mean is, we should block the main road and set up a defensive position."

Even if Wu Chengren arrives, we won't give him the chance to meet up with Chen Mingren.

Zheng Sanjiang stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.

"Okay. We'll do it your way. I'll go and mobilize the troops right away."

He turned to leave, then stopped and turned back: "By the way, Political Commissar Ye."

"Um?"

Zheng Sanjiang gave him a thumbs up. "The corps commander said you have the talent of a general who can lead independently. I believe him now."

After saying that, Zheng Sanjiang strode down the mountain, his footsteps quickly carried away by the mountain wind.

Ye Fei was left alone there, looking somewhat dazed.

After a moment, he came to his senses...

"Pah, despicable! I came here to make a revolution, not to get promoted."