Chapter 264: The Mountain Is Alive
Nantian’s eyes visibly lit up with excitement. Colonel Fujita’s meaning was clear: as long as there was enough merit, the position of Head of Ume Agency…
At this moment, she seemed to have forgotten Dohihara’s warning to her…
Year 28 of the Republic of China, that is, Showa 14, North China Area Army garrison!
In 1939 North China, hot winds carried gunpowder smoke and dust, brushing over mountains and rivers scorched dry and cracked by the flames of war.
July had arrived, with sweltering heat rising, the time when grass and trees should be growing wildly, yet amid the layered peaks of the Taihang Mountains lingered a suffocating aura of death.
The sky was overcast and gray, without its usual deep blue; even the sun seemed separated by a thick layer of frosted glass, hanging limply and casting down pale light, illuminating teams of khaki figures crawling along dirt roads in the mountains.
Commander Tada’s “Cage Policy” was like invisible yet ice-cold iron chains, tightening inch by inch over this 60,000 square kilometers of land, intended to strangle the resistance forces living here.
Japanese Army North China Area Army frontline headquarters was set at a relatively flat mountain pass, several commandeered bluestone courtyards connected into one, with antennas densely erected on the rooftops, and sandbag fortifications layered outside the courtyard walls, machine gun muzzles pointing darkly at every possible direction of attack.
In the largest main hall, the original furniture had long been cleared out, replaced by a huge sand table that nearly filled the entire room.
The Taihang Mountains terrain molded from mud and sand rose and fell, crisscrossed with gullies, dotted with small red, blue, and white flags representing the Japanese Army and various resistance forces.
More numerous were the densely packed yellow small flags almost forming a continuous sheet, representing Japanese Army strongholds, bunkers, and blockade trenches, truly like a giant net covering the mountains and rivers.
Army Lieutenant General Commander Tada wore a crisp yellow wool general’s uniform, the general’s stars on his collar flashing cold, hard light under the dim lamps.
Hands clasped behind his back, his hawk-like gaze slowly swept over every corner of the sand table, a trace of anxiety appearing on his stern face.
Behind him stood several staff officers rigidly, not daring to breathe.
As early as early 1939, Japan had reinforced the North China Area Army with seven divisions plus five mixed brigades to carry out the Security Purification Plan.
Commander Tada had personally designed the Cage Policy, intending to cut off all Communist Party supplies.
In early July, the Army recommended General Abe Nobuyuki to reorganize the cabinet; originally, Commander Tada was the top candidate for Minister of Military Affairs.
Unfortunately, his way of doing things was not popular, and moreover, like Chief of Staff Itagaki, Commander Ishihara, and others, he was a proponent of peace, advocating negotiations to resolve the China problem, an attitude that did not align with the Army’s aggressive operational principle.
Thus, His Majesty the Emperor, following the suggestions of Your Excellency Suzuki from the Ministry of Finance and General Abe Nobuyuki, ordered Nagachika Shunroku to serve as Minister of Military Affairs!
Thud thud thud, a burst of rapid footsteps interrupted Commander Tada’s thoughts.
All the commanders of the units participating in this sweep operation had arrived.
“Gentlemen, please sit.” Tada scanned the commanders who had come to attend the meeting. His voice was not loud, yet carried a clear, cold tone that reached everyone’s ears distinctly. “‘Security Purification’—the core is not in ‘war,’ but in ‘governance.’ The bandits rely on the Taihang Mountains like parasitic moss. We shall make these mountains their grave, not their shield.”
“Gentlemen, look…” Commander Tada extended his hand gloved in white gloves and picked up a red-blue pencil from the tray held by a nearby staff officer.
The pencil spun flexibly between his fingers, its red end like one soaked in blood.
Suddenly, he swung his arm, throwing the pencil like a short sword—”thud”—it precisely struck the area on the sand table representing the main peak of the Taihang Mountains.
The pencil sank deeply into the mud and sand, still quivering slightly.
“From March to now, we have established 123 new strongholds, over 300 kilometers of blockade trench walls, gridding the entire North China region into over 2,000 grids, coordinated with repeated sweeps by Imperial Army elites!”
“Highways as pillars, bunkers as locks, trench walls as chains! The Taihang Mountains are now an iron barrel! They cannot fly away even with wings!”
He slightly raised his chin, his gaze seeming to pierce through the roof toward the endless mountains.
“Hunger, isolation, internal division… By then, without wasting too much ammunition, they will hop like autumn grasshoppers in a cage and not last long.”
“Recently, Your Excellency Abe has taken office, reorganizing the cabinet. Undoubtedly, the mighty Imperial Army will hold the dominant position in the future—this is our best moment to establish merit and achievements! I order…”
“Rustle,” all the generals present stood up swiftly, respectfully watching Commander Tada.
“Launch a sweep operation against the Communist Party Eighth Route Army headquarters and 129th Division active in the Taihang Mountains area.”
“Obliterate the Communist Party main forces in the Taihang Mountains area!”
“Hai!”
Orders were conveyed layer by layer downward, with cold efficiency.
More Japanese Army troops surged into the mountainous area like locusts, patrol teams appearing at every large and small road junction, gunfire and dog barking occasionally breaking the silence of the forests.
In the air, reconnaissance aircraft painted with the Japanese flag occasionally buzzed overhead, wings brushing mountain ridges and casting ominous shadows.
On the Taihang Mountains…
Compared to the noisy, oppressive “Cage” below the mountains, the depths of the Taihang Mountains at midnight held another kind of deathly stillness.
No wind; dense tree canopies layered thickly, filtering the already faint moonlight to fragments, leaving only a few blurry light spots on the ground covered in fallen leaves.
The air was humid and heavy, carrying the scent of soil and rotting plant roots.
A team was struggling through this ink-black darkness.
They numbered about twenty, their military uniforms worn to the point where the original colors were unrecognizable.
Exhaustion was written on every face, lips cracked, but their eyes shone startlingly in the darkness—that was the alertness and resilience honed by long teetering on the edge of life and death.
They were the most elite reconnaissance squad of the Eighth Route Army 129th Division reconnaissance battalion.
The Japanese Army’s encirclement was tightening; they had to seep out like mercury through the gaps in the iron barrel to scout the enemy’s troop strength and firepower deployment this time.
Leading the team was not a soldier, but a hunched old man.
He was Sun Shigen, the most experienced old hunter in the area, familiar with the Taihang Mountains as if they were the lines on his own palm.
Sun Shigen wore a tattered black cloth jacket, trouser legs tied with grass rope, straw shoes with thousand-layer soles worn white on the bottom; walking on thick fallen leaves, he made almost no sound.
He carried no gun, only leaning on a polished smooth wooden staff; he would occasionally stop, squat down, pinch some soil between his fingers and sniff it at his nose tip, or tilt his ear to listen for sounds that seemed nonexistent.
That face full of deep wrinkles was like wind-dried old tree bark in the darkness, only his eyes occasionally flashing eagle-sharp light in the faint glow.
“Stop.” Sun Shigen raised his arm, his voice hoarse and low and deep, like wind through rock crevices.
The entire team froze instantly; the fighters half-squatted, muzzles naturally pointing outward, without any extra noise.
Only heavy breathing stood out especially clear in the silent woods.
“Old Uncle, what’s wrong?” Guard company commander Li Tieniu leaned forward, lowering his voice to ask.
He was a burly man, but his movements now were nimble as a raccoon.
Sun Shigen didn’t turn, pointing his wooden staff at a patch of unremarkable bushes to the left front: “Over there, three steps away, a pit trap. In the old days hunting bears, falling in would skewer you.”
“On the tree branches, wire connected to a bell; one ring, and the rabbits on the opposite ridge would hear.”
Li Tieniu looked along it, barely making out the thin wire almost the same color as the bark in the extremely faint light, a chill running down his spine.
Behind him, a young fighter with a still boyish face couldn’t help smacking his lips lightly, glared at by the veteran beside him, and quickly covered his mouth.
“Follow my footprints, one step wrong and you’re done.” After Sun Shigen spoke, he stepped forward again, his feet landing on seemingly ordinary fallen leaves and protruding roots, yet utterly secure.
The team continued forward, slowly but steadily toward the direction the enemy deemed absolutely impassable.
The path underfoot could no longer be called a road: sometimes a dry riverbed full of slippery gravel; sometimes nearly vertical rock walls to climb, fingers gripping stone cracks, toes seeking tiny holds!
Sometimes squeezing sideways through narrow stone crevices barely wide enough for one person, cold rock walls scraping shoulders and back.
Sweat soaked the tattered military uniforms, then cooled by the night wind, clinging to the skin.
No one spoke, only heavy panting and the occasional echo of rolling gravel falling into the valley.
Sun Shigen was like an old horse knowing the way, guiding through this labyrinth-like desperate terrain.
He would sometimes stop to stroke faint, almost indistinguishable marks on certain rock walls, or look up through gaps in the tree canopy to observe the stars’ positions.
The path he took was a millennia-old ancient plank road long forgotten by the world.
Said to have been trodden out by Northern Wei monks and herbalists, later buried in history and weeds, existing only in the oral memories passed down by the rare old hunters like him.
“Company commander, this… is this really a road?” The young fighter panted heavily, unable to resist asking Li Tieniu in a low voice again.
He was young, expending more energy, his voice trembling slightly.
Li Tieniu glanced back at him; his expression unclear in the dark, he only said lowly: “No nonsense, follow Old Uncle. This is the road, the lifeline our ancestors left us!”
Hearing this, Sun Shigen didn’t pause, just tossed back faintly, as if to the young fighter or to himself: “The Japanese devils drew maps, built gun towers, occupied the main roads. They think the mountains are just mud lumps on the sand table… They don’t understand, these mountains are alive.”
His words were swallowed by the night wind, yet steadied the hearts of the few fighters who heard them inexplicably.
After an unknown time—perhaps two hours, perhaps half the night—just as everyone’s stamina neared its limit, Sun Shigen ahead suddenly stopped and raised his fist.
The team halted silently once more.
“We’re here.” No emotion was discernible in Sun Shigen’s voice.
He signaled the team to disperse and hide, then led Li Tieniu and several key members crawling forward. Through an extremely dense patch of thorny bushes, their view suddenly opened up.
They were actually on an extremely concealed cliff edge.
This cliff was like a protruding brow bone on the forehead of a Taihang Mountains giant; below was bottomless darkness, while in the distance…
In the distance, several li away, a mountain valley basin was lit up brilliantly!
It was a vast complex of buildings, several large courtyards with distinct outlines!
Snow-white searchlight beams like giant white brooms swept back and forth through the night sky, occasionally sweeping over guard posts, wire mesh, and military trucks and motorcycles parked in the open spaces outside the courtyard walls.
Even from such a distance, ant-sized figures could be faintly seen moving, and vague Japanese commands and engine roars carried on the wind.
In front of a large courtyard with tall antennas stood a conspicuous Japanese Army military flag, pale and ominous under the lights.
That was the Japanese Army North China Area Army frontline headquarters!
The heart that issued instructions, weaving the “Cage” over the entire Taihang Mountains!
Every Eighth Route Army fighter seeing this scene held their breath.
They had traversed a nine-deaths-and-one-life desperate terrain, sneaking undetected right under the enemy’s nose, to the very center of this iron barrel formation, the most impossible place!
Li Tieniu suppressed the shock in his heart, quickly pulling out binoculars to observe carefully.
His fingers whitened slightly from gripping hard. Enemy camp defenses, overt and covert sentries, main building layouts…
All this precious intelligence was clearly laid out before them.
Sun Shigen pulled out his pipe, huddled in a corner, and said to Li Tieniu sketching the map: “See! Tada’s ‘Cage’… He calculated the main roads dead, the peaks dead, but he missed… missed the land under our feet!”
“This is the lifeline passed down by our ancestors for generations—not something a few iron lumps can lock down!”
“The mountains. Are alive…”
Li Tieniu slowly lowered the binoculars, looking at the old hunter Sun Shigen beside him, whose beard and hair trembled slightly in the night wind.
On Sun Shigen’s ancient, still face, the muscles seemed to twitch slightly.
His deep gaze shifted slowly from the arrogant enemy camp below the mountain to the cliff underfoot that had slumbered for a thousand years, now cradling these uninvited guests,
Finally resting on these ragged, gaunt young fighters whose eyes burned with unconquerable flames.
He said nothing, just took a hard drag on his pipe and knocked the pipe bowl forcefully on the rock.
“Thud, thud thud.”
A muffled faint sound, like the prelude to war drums, shattered the thickest darkness before dawn.
“Officer Li, you have one hour to act. You must evacuate after one hour, or there will be risk of exposure!”
“Got it, Old Uncle,” Li Tieniu turned to the group: “Follow the previous action plan, split into three groups. No matter what, rendezvous here in one hour.”
“Yes.”
