You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

Zhicheng Airport.

Gao Zilong hung up the phone, turned around and roared, "Assemble! Everyone assemble! Q-5 and J-5 fighters, take off!"

"Mr. Shen said, 'Hunt down the Japanese devils! See who kills the most! There's a prize!'"

"Remember, use only machine guns, and nobody's allowed to throw artillery shells at me!"

"The time has come to test your accuracy!"

The tarmac erupted in chaos.

The pilots rushed out of the barracks, some buttoning their shirts, some putting on gloves, and some stuffing steamed buns into their mouths as they ran.

Ground crew pushed fuel trucks and ammunition trucks onto the runway, refueling, loading ammunition, and checking equipment, their movements as fast as a battle.

Thirty-six Q-5 fighters and twenty-four J-5 fighters were lined up on the runway.

The roar of the engines blared one after another, shaking the ground.

Gao Zilong sat in the lead aircraft, put on his flight cap, and shouted into the walkie-talkie, "Take off!"

Sixty fighter jets took off in succession, circled once over the city, and then dispersed, like a flock of eagles released into the sky, swooping towards the southern horizon.

. . .

In the small courtyard.

Shen Wang hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair.

Kao's hand moved again, pressing gently and carefully, with a softer touch than before, as if he were handling a fragile piece of porcelain.

Her gaze fell on Shen Wang's profile. His face was expressionless, except for a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, which conveyed a nonchalant composure.

Kao Shi's mind was in turmoil!

The once invincible Imperial Army, in that person's eyes, was now nothing more than a training target to be toyed with at will?

Not an enemy, not an opponent, but a target!

It's a live target that can run and shout, used by pilots to practice on!

Kao Shi stared at Shen Wang's back, and for some reason, he suddenly felt taller and more imposing!

It's as tall as a mountain, so tall it's suffocating!

. . .

Zhongtiao Mountain.

The 14th Group Army's garrison.

Commander Liu has been in a very good mood these past few days.

So good that he drank an extra bowl of porridge for breakfast, so good that he hummed a little tune while shaving in front of the mirror, so good that he signed the documents that the staff officer brought without even glancing at them.

Newspapers were everywhere, filled with news about him.

The front page of the Mountain City Daily featured his photo; he was dressed in a crisp military uniform with a resolute gaze, and the headline read, "The First Person to Recapture the Zhongtiao Mountains."

A reporter interviewed him, asking how he fought the battle. He spoke eloquently, attributing it to the soldiers' bravery, the skillful command, and the principal's wisdom.

Right now, he's sitting in the command post drinking tea—Longjing, the best kind, brought from the mountain city by someone.

The sunlight outside the window was perfect, shining on the pomegranate tree in the yard, where the flowers were fiery red, like a tree full of little lanterns.

He held his teacup, squinted, and wondered if he could pick up any more fruit.

Fighting broke out in northwestern Shanxi, with the Eighth Route Army deploying troops from three directions, causing quite a stir.

Commander Liu initially approached the situation with a "let's watch the show" attitude.

Go ahead and fight! The bigger the better!

It would be best to let him get some credit, just like when he found Zhongtiao Mountain a few days ago.

Then his title of "Hero of the Party and the State" will be firmly established.

However, things took an unexpected turn.

"Report!"

An advisor rushed in, his face looking rather grim.

"Commander, news has come from northwestern Shanxi that the Japanese have escaped."

Commander Liu put down his teacup and frowned.

"Ran away? Where did they go?"

The staff officer swallowed hard, his voice weak.

"They're coming this way."

Commander Liu was stunned for a moment, his teacup hovering in mid-air.

"What did you say?"

The staff officer swallowed hard: "The Eighth Route Army is encircling and suppressing us from three sides. The Japanese can't hold out any longer. The 33rd Division, the 41st Division, two independent brigades, and the headquarters of the First Army, a total of fifty to sixty thousand men, are all heading towards our Zhongtiao Mountains!"

Commander Liu's mind went blank.

The Japanese devils actually ran away?

No, where did that ferocity you showed when you beat me up?

Why do we react like mice to cats when we encounter the Eighth Route Army?

And if you're going to run, why are you running towards my Zhongtiao Mountain?

Commander Liu then realized that something was wrong!

With the Eighth Route Army and three other armies surrounding and suppressing him, his Zhongtiao Mountain seemed to be the only weak link!

The Japanese soldiers wanted to break through from here!

Oops!

"Quickly! Order all units to prepare for defense! Immediately! Right now!"

"Notify the front lines: Hold the line! Hold the line!"

The newspaper had only published the article two days ago. If Zhongtiao Mountain were to be lost in his hands, the shame would be unbearable!

By the time the order was passed down, the vanguard of the Japanese troops had already reached the foot of the mountain.

Two entire divisions and two brigades, totaling fifty to sixty thousand men, surged in like a floodgate opening.

This troop strength is not much weaker than that of the Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain.

But the 14th Group Army is no longer the same 14th Group Army it once was!

After being decimated last time, most of the veterans were lost, and the replacements now are all new recruits, some of whom haven't even handled a gun properly.

A few days ago, when they "recaptured" Zhongtiao Mountain, there were only a few hundred terrified Japanese soldiers left on the mountain. They rushed up as easily as if they were on a picnic.

But now charging forward are fifty to sixty thousand Japanese soldiers who have fought desperately, have nowhere else to run, have been chased by the Eighth Route Army for hundreds of miles, and are seething with anger.

On the front lines, the new recruits lay prone in the trenches, their hands trembling so much they could barely hold their rifles.

As the grayish-yellow tide surged in from afar, some people swallowed hard, some closed their eyes, and some began to tremble.

The Japanese soldiers charged up.

Without any probing or feints, the first wave was an all-out attack.

The defense line collapsed after just one attack.

The recruits had never seen anything like this before. Some threw down their guns and ran back, some lay prone in the trenches, too scared to look up, and some were so frightened that they stood frozen in place.

The Japanese soldiers surged forward like a tide, tore open a gap, and poured in with a rush.

One large squad was the first to rush out.

The Japanese soldiers running at the front had already rushed to the gentle slope on the other side of the mountain. Looking back, they saw that the positions on Zhongtiao Mountain had been left behind, and the Eighth Route Army's planes were no longer in sight.

The Japanese battalion commander, panting heavily, was about to order them to continue running when he suddenly stopped.

He glanced back and saw that on Zhongtiao Mountain, the Nationalist soldiers were still in disarray, some running, some kneeling, and some raising their hands.

"A private Marseille!"

A thought flashed through his mind: the Eighth Route Army's planes were like flies, chasing after them to bomb and sweep them. How many people had died along the way?

Where can you run to?

Is it safe once you leave the Zhongtiao Mountains?

"Baka! Stop! Stop, stop, stop!"

The Japanese battalion commander suddenly gave the order.

"Go back! Capture them alive!"

The adjutant beside him was stunned.

"Captain, we finally managed to break through..."

"Baka! What do you know?!"

The captain's eyes reddened, and his voice carried a reckless, defiant tone.

"If we keep running like this, when will it end? The Eighth Route Army's planes are chasing and bombing us. No matter how fast we run, can we outrun them?"

"Capture a group of prisoners to use as shields, let's see if they still dare to bomb!"

"Search and kill him! Captain, you are wise!"

The adjutant understood.

I don't care if you're the 14th Army or the 18th Army, I'll hold you hostage. I'm not afraid of anyone.

At worst, we'll all perish together!

So the large squad that had just charged out turned back and attacked again...