Chapter 261: The Most Pressing Matter
Let’s shift our gaze back to Shanxi.
The inertia of history is so immense that even with an anomaly like Su Yaoyang capable of upending the era, certain destined pivotal moments still arrive as scheduled.
The Battle of Cangyun Ridge erupted.
However, this time’s Cangyun Ridge was already starkly different compared to another spacetime.
Li Yunlong, the protagonist from Drawing Sword, was at this moment lying prone behind a hastily dug earth embankment, with a dry grass stem from who-knows-where clenched in his mouth, his eyes fixed like an eagle’s on the faintly visible Japanese command post in the distant mountain hollow.
His New First Regiment was surrounded by the Sakata Regiment.
But on his face, there was no trace of tension or embarrassment from being surrounded; instead, it was the excitement and cruelty of a hunter seeing prey fall into a trap.
“Damn it,” Li Yunlong spat out the grass stem in his mouth, grinning at Zhang Dabiao who was also lying prone beside him, revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth stained by tobacco smoke, “Old Zhao, look at that bastard Sakata setting up his command post there—does he think our artillery can’t reach him? Heh, today I’ll make him open his eyes and see what the hell ‘artillery coverage’ really means!”
In another spacetime, Li Yunlong had forced the gunner Wang Chengzhu to bet on a miracle with their last three shells to take out Sakata.
But now…
Li Yunlong turned his head and roared at a man not far away who was equally grimy but whose eyes gleamed with startling intensity: “Wang Chengzhu! You son of a bitch, what are you standing around for? Aim both of my Type 92 infantry guns and those dozen-plus mortars right at Sakata’s doghouse! Calculate the firing data for me, and on my command, open fire together!”
Wang Chengzhu’s face flushed with excitement; he had never dreamed he could fight such a well-supplied battle in his lifetime.
Shells might not be fired at will, but they were more than sufficient to support this battle! Not to mention those two Type 92 infantry guns that had fallen from the sky, which Li Yunlong treasured like his own father!
“Yes! Regiment commander! Guarantee to send that dog Sakata to the heavens in one salvo!” Wang Chengzhu bellowed in response, then scrambled on all fours to direct his artillery platoon.
From the very start of the battle, Sakata Nobutsugu felt an unprecedented immense pressure.
The Eighth Route Army in his impression was a force with outdated weapons, severely short on ammo, only capable of guerrilla tactics and laying mines. But this “New First Regiment” before his eyes completely upended his perception.
Directly in front of the positions was a crossfire network of dozens of light and heavy machine guns; the “da-da-da” and “dong-dong-dong” sounds merged into one, pinning down his carefully organized assault troops so they couldn’t even lift their heads.
Bullets poured out like they were free, and the casualty figures among the imperial soldiers made his heart race with shock.
And now, an even more lethal threat was bearing down on his command post.
“Open fire!”
With Li Yunlong’s earth-shattering roar, the artillery position under Wang Chengzhu’s command instantly unleashed a thunderous roar!
The two Type 92 infantry guns and dozen-plus mortars fired at the same time, dumping shells loaded with fury and killing intent entirely into the small mountain hollow where Sakata’s command post was located!
“Boom boom boom boom boom…”
Sakata Nobutsugu ultimately could not escape his destiny.
He didn’t even have time to react to what was happening; he only heard a whistling sound like the end of the world approaching from far to near, and then the entire world was swallowed by the blaze of explosions and violent shocks.
He, his regimental honor flag, and the entire command post were all blasted in this saturation bombardment into chunks of flesh and tattered cloth mixed with dirt, flying everywhere.
“Charge—!”
Seeing the enemy command post wiped out in one go, Li Yunlong tossed aside his binoculars, drew the brand-new submachine gun from his waist, and was the first to leap out from behind the earth embankment.
“Brothers! That old Japanese devil Sakata has been taken out by us! Follow me charging straight out the front—surrender and your lives will be spared!”
“Kill…”
The soldiers of the New First Regiment, with morale soaring like a rainbow, charged like tigers down the mountain, bayonets fixed, shouting as they launched a desperate counterassault from the front, tearing a bloody gash in the Japanese encirclement and breaking through triumphantly.
The news that the New First Regiment had broken out frontally at Cangyun Ridge and wiped out the Sakata Regiment command post spread like wildfire throughout the entire northwest Shanxi.
Eighth Route Army headquarters.
“Pa!”
The deputy commander slammed his palm heavily on the table, jolting the teacup on it into jumping. He pointed at the battle report, his eyebrows trembling with rage, and roared at Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo and others before him:
“Outrageous! Simply outrageous! What does this Li Yunlong think he’s doing? Huh? Unauthorized change of battle plan, frontal breakout!
Who does he think he is? Does he think his New First Regiment is made of iron? This time he luckily won, but what if he lost? The whole New First Regiment would be buried by him! This precedent absolutely cannot be set!”
The staff officers around him were all deathly silent, none daring to provoke the deputy commander at this moment.
Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo was relatively calm; he handed over a cup of tea and advised, “Commander, calm down first. Li Yunlong was wrong, but after all, he won a great victory and captured quite a bit of stuff…”
“Captured? Captured my ass!”
The deputy commander, in the heat of his anger, wouldn’t hear any persuasion. “Can his paltry captures compare to the mess he’s made? If we don’t handle this strictly, everyone will follow Li Yunlong’s example—then what discipline will our army have?
Pass my order! Immediately strip Li Yunlong of his position as New First Regiment commander down to the bottom! Send him to be factory director at the clothing factory! Let him reflect properly!”
The order quickly reached the New First Regiment.
Li Yunlong, who had just won a victory and was leading men to inventory spoils, preparing a grand victory banquet, was completely dumbfounded upon receiving the order.
“What the hell? Make me factory director at the clothing factory? Dealing with those women?”
Li Yunlong’s eyes bulged; he snatched the telegram, read it over several times to confirm he wasn’t seeing wrong, then jumped up and down in fury on the spot. “Damn it! Why? I just won a great victory—no reward is one thing, but demoting me? I won’t accept this!”
Military orders are like mountains; like it or not, obey.
In the end, Li Yunlong could only curse under his breath as he handed over the still-warm New First Regiment to Ding Wei who came to take over, then packed a small bundle with a bitter face and actually reported to the clothing factory.
After handling the Li Yunlong matter, the atmosphere at headquarters eased somewhat. At this point, a logistics department staff officer walked in with a document, his expression grave.
“Report to the chief, our troops’ medical supplies reserves are already severely insufficient.”
He reported, “According to reports from various units, wound medicine and bandages are all in very short supply, especially penicillin… our headquarters reserves are down to less than twenty vials.
Many seriously wounded soldiers, because they can’t get timely treatment, all…”
The staff officer didn’t continue, but everyone understood his meaning.
The deputy commander’s face instantly darkened. This worried him more than Li Yunlong’s disobedience. Weapons and equipment could be captured, but penicillin, this life-saving miracle drug, was a strategic material you couldn’t buy no matter how much money you had.
“What about that line we contacted with the Shanxi militia last time?” Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo immediately asked.
“We’ve already sent someone.”
The logistics staff officer replied, “But… their response is that their overall regiment commander Su Yaoyang is currently not in Shanxi, commanding combat on the front lines. All major matters regarding supplies trading must wait for his return to decide.”
“Commanding combat on the front lines?” The deputy commander frowned. “This Su Yaoyang personally goes to the battlefield?”
“Yes.”
The staff officer replied, “Heard it’s around Yichang, fighting the Japanese Sixth Division, on a very large scale.
Shanxi militia Chief of Staff Colonel Pi Ruoyu said that all their strategic supplies are now prioritized for the Yichang front lines and temporarily cannot be sold externally; please understand.”
The command post fell into silence.
This news felt more powerless and heavy than the earlier Li Yunlong matter.
“Sixth Division, huh…”
Hearing this designation, Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo let out a long breath, his eyes filled with gravity and astonishment.
The Japanese First Army entrenched in Shanxi mostly commanded second- and third-rate security divisions or newly formed special divisions, and even so, they had suppressed the Jin-Sui Army, Central Army, Eighth Route Army, and local armed forces.
But the Sixth Division was one of the seventeen permanent divisions of the Japanese Army before the war, an A-class division, elite of the elites—from Nanjing all the way to Wuhan, their hands stained with the blood of Chinese soldiers and civilians, with a fearsome reputation.
That young man named Su Yaoyang, his Shanxi militia, had already developed to the point of fighting head-on field battles with such an ace division on the main battlefield?
“Looks like we’ve all underestimated this kid.”
The hitherto silent deputy commander suddenly chuckled lightly, breaking the command post’s silence.
His tone lacked the earlier anger, instead carrying a trace of relief and emotion.
“Indeed underestimated.”
Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo also sighed, “I originally thought he was just a promising businessman, but unexpectedly… he’s already a regional warlord.”
“But we should be glad.”
The deputy commander stood up, walked to the map, his gaze falling on Yichang in the middle Yangtze reaches, his eyes deepening. “The more troops like this that can fight and dare to fight, the more hope we have to drive all these damned Japanese invaders out of China soon!”
His words rang out resolutely, invigorating everyone present.
Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo nodded heavily, but then sighed again, worry clouding his face once more: “That’s easy to say, but far water can’t quench near thirst. No matter how well they fight at Yichang, it won’t solve our immediate problem of wounded lacking medicine.”
At this point, he seemed to suddenly remember something, his eyes lighting up as he said to the deputy commander: “Commander, I recall from the last intelligence report that Regiment Commander Su’s wife, Ms. Song Mei, seems to be the director of their Shanxi militia field hospital, and the hospital headquarters is located in Wutaian County not far from us.”
“Oh?”
The deputy commander perked up upon hearing this.
“You mean, since we can’t find Su Yaoyang himself, could we… contact his wife directly?”
Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo increasingly felt this idea feasible the more he spoke. “After all, it’s a hospital—they can’t just let people die, right? We’re not taking for free; we’ll pay! Buy a small batch of penicillin from her first for emergencies, how about it?”
“This…”
The deputy commander pondered.
Bypassing the husband to approach the wife, and for strategic supplies at that—it wouldn’t sound good if word got out.
But thinking of those warriors dying in agony for lack of medicine, his gaze firmed up again.
“We can try it.” He finally resolved, his gaze resolute. “Lives are at stake; can’t worry about appearances! The wounded can’t wait! Handle this right away! Make it quick!”
“Yes!”
Deputy Chief of Staff Zuo perked up, immediately standing at attention and saluting. “I’ll arrange reliable comrades to go at once!”
Two days later
In the Shanxi militia field hospital in Wutaian County, Song Mei had just finished a complex surgery lasting several hours, extracting three shrapnel pieces from a severely wounded soldier’s abdomen.
She removed her bloodstained gloves and mask, revealing a face slightly fatigued yet still radiantly beautiful. Rubbing her sore neck, she was about to rest when Nurse Wu Min, who had recently married Li Gaoyuan, rushed in breathlessly.
“Director… Director!”
The nurse said, somewhat out of breath, “Outside… some people from Eighth Route Army headquarters have come outside, saying they have urgent business and want to see you!”
“Eighth Route Army headquarters?”
A trace of puzzlement crossed Song Mei’s pretty face. “I’m just a doctor—why would Eighth Route Army people come find me?”
Wu Min said: “This… I’m not clear either, just saw they seemed quite anxious, and upon arrival they stated their division clearly. Afraid to delay your important matters, so I hurried to notify you.
If you don’t want to see them, Director, I’ll go turn them away right now?”
“No need.”
Song Mei shook her head: “Better to see them. What if it’s really urgent?”
Moments later, Song Mei changed into a proper casual outfit and entered the hospital’s reception room.
In the reception room sat two men and one woman. Leading was a woman around forty, wearing a faded Eighth Route Army uniform, exuding a steady and capable air.
Beside her sat a man in his thirties, wearing glasses, appearing scholarly and refined.
Another slightly younger man stood behind them, seeming somewhat awkward and vigilant.
Seeing Song Mei enter, the leading woman stood up immediately, extending her hand proactively with a polite and sincere smile: “You must be Director Song? I’m Yang Lanjuan, section chief of the Eighth Route Army Logistics Department Section One. Sorry for the unannounced visit.”
“Section Chief Yang is too polite; please sit.”
Song Mei shook her hand, feeling the other’s palm warm and firm. Her gaze swept over the other two, then she cut to the chase: “May I ask what important business brings you all to our small place today?
As far as I know, my husband just donated a batch of medicine to your army not long ago, which should be enough for you for a while.”
Her words were neither humble nor arrogant, acknowledging their prior relations while subtly expressing her doubt: why are you back?
Hearing Song Mei’s words, Yang Lanjuan and the man in his thirties beside her flashed embarrassment.
After a moment, Yang Lanjuan spoke, her tone carrying apology and helplessness: “Director Song, to be frank, the batch of medicine Regiment Commander Su donated last time, we… already sent part of it to Shaanbei, to comrades in greater need.
This led to our own reserves being insufficient, which we didn’t anticipate. If not utterly desperate, we wouldn’t impose again.”
