The War of Resistance Against Japan: Starting with a Calm View of Life and Death

As dawn broke, the brigade headquarters in Ningwu County was in an uproar.

Tomohisa Okada hadn't slept all night, and his eyes were bloodshot.

The telephone in front of him was like a dead object; the receiver was hot from his grip, but there was only a busy tone.

"Commander!" Fujita Hiroshi burst through the door, forgetting even to announce his arrival, his face deathly pale. "Still no contact! The two communications soldiers I sent to check the lines... haven't returned either!"

"Baka!" Tomohisa Okada slammed the receiver onto the landline phone, the sound of the plastic casing shattering particularly jarring in the room.

He stood up abruptly, his saber clattering against the corner of the table.

"That bastard Yudai, even if he was trying to catch a big fish, he wouldn't have gone so far as not to make a call to let us know he's safe! Has that idiot Inoue Takeshi gone mad too?"

Okada Tomohisa paced back and forth in the room, his leather boots thumping on the floor. "Fujita, you immediately take a squad, no, half a company, and search along the road to Dongzhai Town!"

"I demand to see him alive or dead! If there's any disturbance on the road, return immediately to report!"

Fujita Hiroshi was sweating profusely; he knew Okada Tomohisa was truly enraged.

Although the battalion commander was strict in the past, he always left room for Okada Yudai. If something really happens this time, the whole battalion will be shaken up.

"Hai! I'll go right away!" Fujita Hiroshi suddenly lowered his head, turned around and ran out.

Half an hour later, at the entrance of the county town.

Fujita Hiroshi rode on his horse, brandishing his command sword, followed by more than a hundred Japanese soldiers and more than twenty puppet troops.

"Listen up, all of you! Full speed ahead! Anyone who falls behind will be court-martialed!" Fujita Hiroshi shouted, trying to mask his fear.

The troops left the city and marched rapidly along the dirt road toward Dongzhai Town.

At this moment, Zhou Jindong was lying on a high ground three miles outside Dongzhai Town, holding binoculars in his hand.

Wang Yuan and Zhang Fang were lying next to him, along with several former guerrilla fighters.

"Dongzi, the Japanese are here, about 120 men." Wang Yuan spat out the grass root in his mouth and pulled back the bolt of his rifle with a click.

"No rush, let them get closer." Zhou Jindong put down his binoculars. "We don't have many landmines, so we need to use them wisely. Once they're inside the ambush zone, listen for my gunfire as a signal."

Fujita Hiroshi's team was getting closer and closer. Because he was panicking, Fujita Hiroshi urged them on, and the vanguard squad ahead was already panting heavily.

"Sir, there's a narrow road ahead, with slopes on both sides." A puppet army squad leader approached Fujita Hiroma and pointed to the road ahead.

Fujita Hiroshi reined in his horse and looked at the narrow passage ahead, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Stop!" Fujita Hiroshi raised his hand.

The team had just stopped, and before Fujita Hiroshi could send someone to scout ahead, a sharp gunshot shattered the silence.

"Bang!"

The Japanese scout at the front had a bloody hole between his eyebrows and collapsed to the ground.

"Enemy attack! Take cover!" Fujita Hiroshi shouted, scrambling off his horse.

Before the Japanese troops could disperse, a row of dark figures suddenly appeared on the slopes on both sides of the road.

"Attack!" Zhou Jindong shouted in a low voice.

More than a dozen Type 38 rifles opened fire simultaneously.

The Japanese troops were in a dense formation, and five or six fell instantly after this volley of gunfire.

"Over there! On the hillside!" Fujita Hiroshi shouted from behind his horse, "Machine gun! Suppress it!"

The Japanese army had just set up their Type 96 machine guns and hadn't even had a chance to fire when a bullet struck the machine gunner's helmet with pinpoint accuracy.

It was Wang Lei who fired the shot.

He was lying on a big tree 200 meters away, the Type 38 rifle in his hand still emitting smoke.

"Damn, that's accurate!" Wang Yuan exclaimed, but his pistol didn't stop. He fired three more shots at the crowd below, taking down another Japanese soldier.

The Japanese troops below were thrown into chaos. The puppet troops were even more decisive; as soon as the gunfire started, they covered their heads and squatted on the ground, shouting, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I don't have a gun!"

Enraged, Fujita Hiroshi roared, "Baka yarou! Counterattack! Charge! Take the hill!"

Several Japanese sergeants brandished their swords, forcing the soldiers to rush up the slope.

Zhou Jindong watched the Japanese troops move and a cold smile appeared on his lips.

"Withdraw! Don't linger!" Zhou Jindong waved his hand.

The guerrillas moved extremely quickly, firing a few shots before retreating.

Seeing the guerrillas flee, Fujita Hiroshi assumed they were outnumbered and immediately perked up: "Chase them! Chase them! They're probably just a small group of Eighth Route Army guerrillas!"

Japanese soldiers, guns in hand, charged up the hillside, yelling and shouting.

The Japanese soldier at the very front had just stepped onto a patch of grass that looked a little loose.

A soft, crisp sound.

Before the soldier could react, the ground beneath his feet suddenly collapsed.

It wasn't a bullet, it was a crater.

Several sharpened bamboo skewers were stuck in the bottom of the pit, covered with a dark substance, which was clearly feces.

"ah--!"

The screams were heart-wrenching. The bamboo skewers pierced right through his soles and calves, the excrement on them instantly soiling the wounds. The intense pain and nausea made him writhe on the ground.

The Japanese soldiers behind them were taken aback. Before they could get around them, there was another sound of a pull ring popping out from the bushes next to them.

"boom!"

A grenade exploded in the crowd.

As the smoke cleared, a mass of people lay on the ground, their cries of agony echoing across the scene.

Fujita Hiroshi's face turned green.

He then realized that this was not a small group of troops harassing them at all; it was a trap that had been set up long ago!

"Stop chasing! Retreat! Retreat now!" Fujita Hiroshi shouted hoarsely.

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves came from behind.

Zhou Jindong, mounted on his horse, held the command sword he had seized from Inoue Takeshi, looking down at the disheveled Fujita Hiroshi.

"Captain Fujita, how have you been?" Zhou Jindong shouted in Japanese, his voice tinged with mockery.

Fujita Hiroshi suddenly looked up and saw Zhou Jindong's face, so frightened he almost sat down on the ground.

"Su... Su Hao? What are you doing here? Where is Lieutenant Okada?" Fujita Hiroshi asked, trembling.

"Lieutenant Okada?" Zhou Jindong laughed heartily, his laughter echoing around. "Fujita-kun, you don't know yet, do you? Inoue Takeshi and those thirty Imperial Army soldiers drank too much last night and are fast asleep down there! They probably won't wake up!"

Fujita Hiroshi's mind went blank.

They're all dead? Thirty Imperial Army soldiers, plus Inoue Takeshi, all dead?

"You...you traitor! How dare you..." Fujita Hiroshi trembled with rage and raised his gun to fire.

Zhou Jindong reacted much faster than him. He raised his pistol and fired a shot.

"Bang!"

The bullet grazed Fujita Hiroshi's ear and knocked off his military cap.

"Fujita, I won't kill you today, but I'll leave your tongue to go back and report." Zhou Jindong turned his horse around. "Tell that old devil Okada Tomohisa that I, Zhou Jindong, have taken his food, clothing, and ammunition! If he wants to go back, let him come and get them himself!"

After saying that, Zhou Jindong spurred the horse's flanks, and the warhorse galloped away like a gust of wind.