Republic of China, 1922: Rise from the Post-Zhili-Fengtian War

Gu Cheng's order restored some composure to the panicked soldiers around him.

Behind them, the elite troops swiftly set up the several light machine guns they had brought, their dark muzzles aimed at the enemies who were setting fires and committing atrocities throughout the camp—

The sound of gunfire, "rat-a-tat-tat... rat-a-tat-tat...", instantly pierced the night sky, drowning out the crackling of fire and the screams of soldiers.

A barrage of bullets rained down like a storm, pinning the enemy who were using the burning barracks for cover. Several unfortunate men who were pouring kerosene on the armory were caught off guard and riddled with bullets.

They then collapsed heavily to the ground, the kerosene in their hands rolling onto the floor. The pungent smell of the oil mixed with the smoke and fire permeated the air, and some of it was ignited, burning wildly with the flesh and corpses, creating a strange odor in the air.

"Beat them! Give them a good beating!"

Gu Cheng led his men to rush upwards, but was grabbed by Cai Changyuan, who was rushing up: "You direct from behind, let us handle this!"

With a roar, the veteran general, wielding two pistols, charged ahead of the enemy who were still planning to continue their rampage.

Yang Song led his men to circle around to their rear, forming an encirclement. They opened fire with rifles, killing the suicide soldiers who tried to break through one by one, giving them no chance to escape.

The fierce battle lasted for about twenty minutes. The last enemy was shot through the head by Gu Cheng, and the gunfire in the camp gradually subsided, leaving only the crackling of the fire and the heavy breathing of the soldiers.

Gu Cheng wiped the blood and cigarette ash from his face, his gaze sweeping over the still raging inferno. He roared sharply, "Brothers, don't stand still! The camp isn't far from the Xiaoling River. Everyone split into two groups—"

One group will come with me to the river to fetch water, while the other group will stay behind to guard the edge of the fire and prevent it from spreading to the armory!

Before the words were even finished, the surviving soldiers immediately sprang into action. Despite being exhausted and their clothes being blackened, not one of them retreated.

Gu Cheng personally led half of the men, carrying buckets and wooden basins, and ran wildly towards the Xiaoling River outside the camp.

The night was deep and the roads were muddy. Many soldiers slipped and fell to the ground, but they didn't bother to brush off the mud. They got up and continued to rush forward. Even if the water buckets in their hands broke, they immediately replaced them and continued on their way.

The waters of the Xiaoling River had become the only hope for saving the camp.

The soldiers bent down to scoop water, and once the buckets and basins were full, they struggled back to the camp. Their steps were hurried and heavy, and the splashing water mixed with sweat left muddy streaks on their bodies.

Gu Cheng, like the ordinary soldiers, carried heavy buckets of water back and forth between the river and the camp. His arms were rubbed raw and red from the rough edges of the buckets, but he didn't slow down at all, constantly shouting, "Faster! Faster! Get as much as you can!"

Cai Changyuan tightly bandaged the wound on his arm, which was soaked by the river water and caused him to break out in a cold sweat from the pain. Despite this, he continued to carry buckets of water through the inferno, dousing the flames while shouting instructions: "Focus on the edges of the barracks and grain storage areas! Don't go towards the center of the fire, be careful!"

Yang Song led his men to shovel up the wet soil from the riverbank and transport it to the camp. They spread it along the path of the spreading fire in an attempt to stop it. His face was covered in thick soot, making it impossible to see his features except for his bloodshot eyes.

The villagers who rushed there overnight and the Wang family's servants also joined the firefighting efforts. Men, women, and children all pitched in, some helping to carry buckets of water, some using wet sacks to put out the fire, and some supporting the wounded soldiers, shouting, "Keep pushing! The fire will be out soon!" Their faint shouts gathered into a powerful force amidst the raging inferno.

Jiang Yingrong stood by the river, personally helping the soldiers scoop water. Her body from the waist down was soaked in mud and water, and her face was covered in soot, but she never took a step back. Her eyes were full of anxiety and determination.

The fire was still raging, and the dry weather made the flames burn even more fiercely. The water that had just been poured on the fire evaporated instantly. Many soldiers had their hair singed by sparks and their hands burned, but they just gritted their teeth and continued to fetch water and fight the fire.

Two soldiers collapsed by the fire due to exhaustion, but were helped up by their comrades. After drinking some river water and regaining their strength, they immediately went back to fighting the fire.

Looking at his exhausted yet resilient brothers and the flames spreading everywhere, Gu Cheng felt both loss and anger—heartache for his brothers' injuries and exhaustion, and anger directed at the Japanese who had secretly orchestrated all of this.

As night gradually faded and the east began to lighten, the faint light from the horizon pierced through the thick smoke and spilled onto the ravaged campsite.

The group fought tirelessly from late at night until dawn, their footsteps going back and forth to the riverbank never stopping. They went through batch after batch of water buckets and piled up layers of damp earth to build firebreaks. The raging fire was finally gradually suppressed, turning from towering flames into scattered sparks, and finally leaving only wisps of smoke drifting in the air.

As the sky brightened and the first rays of sunlight fell on the camp, the last remaining fire was extinguished.

The crowd could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground. Some fell into a deep sleep, while others gasped for breath, still clutching their buckets tightly, their faces covered in soot and sweat.

Gu Cheng leaned against the mound of earth, covered in mud and cigarette ash, his throat dry and sore, but he still forced himself to stand up and look at the camp in front of him.

Looking around, the scene was one of devastation. The campsites were charred black, and the grain storage areas had long been burned to the ground, leaving only charred ashes. The air was still filled with a strange smell of burnt food, blood, and moisture.

The bodies of fallen soldiers lay scattered on the ground, some burned beyond recognition, others still in the posture of fighting the fire, a heartbreaking sight.

Cai Changyuan dragged his exhausted body over, blood seeping from the wound on his arm again. His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible: "Master Gu, the fire... the fire is out..."

His eyes were red-rimmed, his face filled with guilt and grief. "But we...we've suffered too much. The barracks are gone, the supplies are gone, and many of our brothers...are gone..."

Gu Cheng stared at the horrific scene before him, his hands clenched into fists.

He slowly raised his head and looked at the Xiaoling River not far away. The river flowed quietly, and the morning light shone on the water, creating shimmering waves. But in the end, this river could not save all the brothers and the barracks.

"First, settle the wounded brothers. Send men to the river to fetch water for them to quench their thirst and clean their wounds." Gu Cheng took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and ordered sternly, "Then send men to tally the casualties and losses, properly bury the fallen brothers, and also be on high alert against any further enemy attacks—we will settle this score with the enemy sooner or later!"

Ignoring her own disheveled state, Jiang Yingrong walked over gracefully. Seeing Gu Cheng's furrowed brows and face covered in cigarette ash and bloodstains, she couldn't help but gently bite her lower lip, her eyes filled with heartache.

After hesitating for a moment, she slowly took out a soft handkerchief from her sleeve and carefully wiped his face. "You must be exhausted, Jingchuan. Sit down and rest!"