On the eve of the fall of Liaodong, he led his troops in a remonstrance against the young marshal.

The sky over Zhabei was torn apart by the wings of the Japanese planes.

Sixteen seaplanes, forming a V-formation, flew in from the direction of the Huangpu River at a very low altitude, so low that people on the ground could clearly see the Rising Sun emblem painted on the wings.

That blood-red circle, like a malevolent eye, looked down from mid-air at the battered city of Hucheng.

"boom!"

The first aerial bomb landed on the north side of the Tiantong'an Station building.

The fireball from the explosion rose more than ten meters high, and the shockwave ripped the entire roof off the platform. Broken bricks and wood chips flew into the air and then rained down like raindrops.

Then came the second, the third, the fourth...

Sixteen bombers took turns diving, bombs falling one after another, the explosions forming a line that stretched from Tiantong'an Station all the way to the defense line on Baoshan Road.

The Shanghai Library and printing plant, located on Baoshan Road, were bombed, and 300,000 books in the library's collection were burned to ashes.

The earth was trembling.

The shockwave, carrying shrapnel and debris, reaped everything on the ground like a scythe.

The coal piles in the yard were blown over, and black coal dust mixed with blood was churned into mud on the ground.

The railway sleepers were burning, billowing thick smoke that blotted out the sky.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder, mixed with the stench of blood and burnt human flesh, making it almost impossible to breathe.

On the positions of the 19th Route Army, screams of agony rose and fell.

A young soldier had half his arm severed by shrapnel. He looked down at his broken right arm, paused for two seconds, then let out a heart-wrenching scream before collapsing straight into the trench.

The medic rushed over to try to stop the bleeding, but blood gushed out of the wound like a fountain and couldn't be stopped at all.

In less than a minute, the soldier's face turned from deathly pale to ashen, his pupils dilated, his lips moved twice, and he lost all sound.

Half of the station building at Tiantong'an Station collapsed.

The red brick wall was covered with bullet holes and scorch marks, like a face that had been whipped to pieces.

The sandbag bunkers on the platform were overturned by the shockwave, and sand spilled all over the ground, mixed with blood, turning into dark red mud.

The railway tracks in the freight yard were broken by aerial bombs, and the broken ends of the rails stick up into the air like ferocious fangs.

The bodies of fallen soldiers were everywhere—on the platforms, on the tracks, in the freight yard, and beside the coal piles.

The survivors lay in the trenches, their ears ringing from the explosion, their eardrums ruptured.

Someone crawled out of the ground, their face covered in blood, looking around blankly, like a soulless shell.

Cai Tingkai stood in front of the command post window, his hands gripping the binoculars tightly.

His eyes were fixed on the sixteen black dots in the sky, his eyes bloodshot, his pupils almost bulging out of their sockets.

The anger surged in his chest like magma, burning his internal organs with pain.

The army was so powerless against the air force; this was the most common phenomenon for the Chinese army in this era when facing the Japanese invaders.

This wasn't a battle of equal strength; it was a one-sided massacre.

The Japanese planes were in the sky, and the Chinese soldiers were on the ground. Fighting from above was like a giant stepping on an ant; they didn't even have a chance to fight back.

The 19th Route Army's defense line didn't even have a single decent anti-aircraft gun. The entire city only had four anti-aircraft guns, all of which were deployed at the Wusong Fort, and there was simply not enough to move them all out.

His soldiers could only lie prone in the trenches, enduring the bombing of aerial bombs and the strafing of machine guns with their own flesh and blood.

"call out!"

Two more planes swooped down.

The machine guns on the wings opened fire simultaneously, bullets pouring down from mid-air, sweeping along the defensive line, and hitting people with a crisp sound of bones shattering.

Two soldiers lying behind sandbags were hit at the same time, and blood gushed from their carotid arteries, splattering their comrades' faces.

"Commander-in-Chief!"

The adjutant rushed in, shouting anxiously, "Tiantong'an Station is in dire need of assistance! The 156th Brigade has suffered over half its casualties! Requesting reinforcements!"

"support?"

Cai Tingkai put down his binoculars, turned around, and roared:

"What support can we offer? We don't even have a single anti-aircraft gun! Sending more reinforcements will only add to the death count!"

The adjutant opened his mouth, as if to say something, but couldn't utter a single word.

Because Cai Tingkai is right, without air superiority, any ground reinforcements are futile.

The Japanese devils were in the sky, while they were in the ground; that was the difference.

This gap cannot be bridged by courage and bloodshed.

Jiang Guangnai stood behind Cai Tingkai, his eyes red-rimmed.

He stared out the window at the billowing smoke in the direction of Tiantong Temple, and at the sixteen Japanese planes circling in the air, his teeth grinding together.

"Brother Cai."

His voice was hoarse, "We must prepare for the worst."

"If Tiantong Temple falls, Zhabei will be lost, and if Zhabei is lost, the north gate of Hucheng will be completely open."

Cai Tingkai remained silent.

He raised the binoculars again, looked in the direction of Tiantong Temple, and remained silent for a long time.

"Even without anti-aircraft guns, even without airplanes, even if we fight until only one person is left!"

He drew his sidearm from his waist and slammed it heavily on the table. "The 19th Route Army won't retreat either."

"I promised the people of Hucheng that even if I die in battle, I, Cai Tingkai, will never retreat a single step."

Every word he spoke resonated deeply.

Jiang Guangnai nodded. "Should we ask the Ministry of Military Affairs for help?"

"The Central Army has an air force; if they came to our aid, we wouldn't be in such a passive position."

Cai Tingkai's face was grim. "I've already sent a telegram, but the reply only contained one sentence."

"You get yourself into trouble, so you have to deal with it!"

"asshole!!"

Jiang Guangnai was furious, saying, "Every citizen has a responsibility when the nation is in peril."

"Right now, the Japanese are harboring wolfish ambitions, and the Central Army is still standing by and watching. Are they still Chinese?"

Cai Tingkai's expression was extremely grim as he slowly said:

"Perhaps this is exactly what the person behind it wants to see."

"No matter what happens to the Central Army, our 19th Route Army will fight this battle. Even if we are completely wiped out, I will never retreat a single step!"

Jiang Guangnai walked to the wall, took his sidearm off the wall, and tucked it into his waistband.

"In that case, I will go to the front lines to oversee the battle."

"Although I am a chief of staff, I am also a soldier."

"As long as the soldiers are there, the position is there; if the position is no longer there, the soldiers are no longer needed."

"Brother Jiang!"

Cai Tingkai grabbed his arm, his eyes reddening. "You can't go to the front lines! If something happens to you, who will command the 19th Route Army?"

"That's precisely why I should go."

Jiang Guangnai looked at him, his eyes as calm as a stagnant pool. "Brother Cai, we have worked together for many years, and I have never done anything that would make the brothers gossip about me."

"This battle today may be the last battle we fight in our lives."

"If this really is the last battle, then I want my brothers to know that there are no officers in the 19th Route Army who are afraid to die."

"Fight the Japanese devils, the commander will fight alongside you."

"If you're going to your deaths, your superiors will go with you."

He pulled his arm away, straightened the collar of his uniform, and turned to walk out.

Just then, a muffled rumble came from the north.

The sound was initially very faint, like distant rumbling thunder, rolling deep in the clouds, barely perceptible, and fleeting.

Cai Tingkai didn't pay attention, thinking it was a hallucination caused by the explosion that injured his ear.

But just a few seconds later, the sound amplified rapidly, turning from a boom into a roar, causing ripples to spread across the water glasses on the table.

Jiang Guangnai suddenly turned around, and he and Cai Tingkai looked up at the same time towards the north.

On the northern horizon, a dense cluster of black dots appeared.

They stood in neat wedge formation, their fuselages gilded in the early winter sun, like a flock of steel eagles flying in from the north.

The aircraft at the very front has a striking pattern painted on its fuselage: a red flag.

The aircraft formation was descending rapidly, catching the Japanese bomber pilots off guard.

The entire aircraft group was silent and subdued, like the calm before a storm.

They pressed onto the battlefield with overwhelming force, without broadcasts or warnings, only the roar of their engines echoing between heaven and earth.

On the front line at Tiantong'an Station, a soldier with a blood-covered face looked up from the trench and saw the formation of planes pressing in from the north.

He rubbed his eyes, which were fogged up by gunpowder smoke, thinking he was seeing things.

He had seen the Rising Sun emblem on Japanese airplanes; it was a blood-red circle.

But what he saw on the plane's wing was not the red Rising Sun emblem, but an unfamiliar red flag.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but it felt like something was blocking his throat.

He tugged at his comrade's sleeve, his hand trembling, his voice shaking as well:

"Airplane...plane...is it our plane?! Is it?"

More and more people raised their heads from the trenches.

They rubbed their eyes, opened their mouths wide, and pointed at the dense cluster of black dots in the sky.

Some people took off their helmets and threw them on the ground, while others raised their guns above their heads and waved them.

Some even jumped out of the trenches and stood on the cratered battlefield, waving frantically at the aircraft in the sky, like a group of sailors who saw the mast lights in a storm.

Cai Tingkai's hands, which were holding the binoculars, began to tremble violently.

He saw the red flag insignia on the lead plane, an insignia he had seen countless times in battle reports.

In the reports of victories from the Northeast, in the telegrams announcing the great victory at Lushun, and in the extra editions of the annihilation battle at Fengcheng, that was the new banner of the Northeast Army.

Red flags fluttered across the land!

The Northeast Army arrived, Zhang Xueming's air force, the strongest air power in China, the steel lion that sank the Japanese Combined Fleet outside Lushun Port.

"They're here."

His voice trembled, as if something was choking him, and the bloodshot eyes were blurred by the tears welling up.

"The Northeast Army is here..."

"The dean is here!"

Jiang Guangnai wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice hoarse:

"How did they manage to fly all the way from Lushun to here, across most of China?"

No one answered him.

Because everyone's attention was completely drawn to the swarm of aircraft in the sky.