Southern guerrilla warfare: I led the Red Seventh Army Corps to amassed a million troops.

Two full days passed before Su Yu and Zhou Zeyuan were certain that the Nationalist army was determined to play the coward.

What else can we do now?

We can't really just go and take on Shuikou Town head-on!

The casualties in the battle were too high; even if we won, it wouldn't be worth it.

Moreover, they knew their own situation best; the ranks were filled with so many new recruits and Kuomintang prisoners of war.

Whether they could actually fight a bloody and brutal battle was something even Zhou Zeyuan, let alone Su Yu, lacked confidence in.

Since things have come to this, what else can we do but harvest the grain first?

The Red Army immediately began to divide its forces, with a portion of its main force monitoring the Nationalist troops in Shuikou, Fuzhou, and Yanping.

The rest immediately dispersed and joined comrades from local party committees to carry out "violent forced demolitions" against local governments, local tyrants, and bullies along the Minjiang River.

Battalion instructor Wang Qiushi rode a short mule in the middle of the column. In the distance, he could see figures moving about in a field of golden rice paddies on the hillside ahead.

Some people were bending over and swinging sickles, some were bundling the cut rice into bundles, and others were driving oxcarts towards the village entrance.

Several small red flags were planted in the fields. The flags were not big and fluttered in the mountain wind, like clusters of flames lighting up this golden autumn scene.

Wang Qiushi reined in the mule and squinted at it for a while.

"Which village is that from?"

The communications soldier next to him leaned over to take a look: "Reporting, instructor, Zhangshuping Village in Chimen Township is just ahead. The district committee comrades must have come to mobilize people in advance, and they're taking advantage of the good weather these days to rush the harvest."

Wang Qiushi nodded, dismounted the mule, tossed the reins to the communications soldier, and strode towards the edge of the field.

A man in his forties was squatting at the edge of the field, fanning himself with a straw hat. When he saw a soldier coming, he was taken aback at first, but then he noticed the red five-pointed star on the soldier's hat, and a smile immediately spread across his face.

"Comrade! You're a comrade from the Red Army, aren't you?"

Wang Qiushi squatted down beside him, picked up a handful of fallen rice stalks, and weighed them in his hand: "Old man, the rice is growing well. How was the harvest this year?"

"Great! Much better than last year! Thanks to the comrades from the district committee, who came to every household a few days ago to tell us that the Red Army would come to help with the harvest, and that we wouldn't have to hand over so much grain to the county this year. Now, all the able-bodied people in the village are out in the fields."

Wang Qiushi smiled. He stood up, his gaze sweeping across the bustling fields. In the distance, several small red flags fluttered on the hillsides further away, indicating that more than just this one village was involved.

As he was about to walk forward, a person came out to greet him on the main road at the entrance of the village.

The man was in his early thirties, but he walked very fast, and in a few steps he reached Wang Qiushi.

"Comrade! I am Yang Wentong, secretary of the Chimen Township Party Committee! We've been waiting for you for so long." The man reached out and grasped Wang Qiushi's hand.

Wang Qiushi shook his hand back, smiling, and said, "Secretary Yang, I'm Wang Qiushi, the political instructor of the First Battalion of the Second Regiment. We've seen several villages rushing to harvest along the way; your mobilization work is really thorough."

"It's all thanks to the villagers' high level of awareness. I told them that if Liu Heding's men take away this year's grain, it's just feeding those officials who ride roughshod over the people."

"We'll harvest it ourselves, keep some for our own consumption, and also share some with our Red Army comrades." Upon hearing this, everyone went to the fields without hesitation.

Yang Wentong led Wang Qiushi into the village. Wang Qiushi followed him into the large drying ground at the village entrance. A field of rice had already been spread out on the ground, and several women were using bamboo rakes to turn and dry the rice.

There were more than a dozen bags of freshly packed rice piled up at the entrance of the warehouse next door, the bags tightly sealed.

Wang Qiushi stopped and turned around, his expression becoming more serious: "Secretary Yang, the rice harvest is only the first step. There are two more things that need to be done by your local comrades."

"you say."

"First, we can't sell grain to Liu Heding's people. He always buys grain by issuing military scrips and IOUs, which is no different from robbery. We should mobilize the people to hide the grain or sell it to us, but we can't let a single grain of rice end up in the White Dog's warehouse."

"Secondly, not a single grain of rice will be paid in taxes this year."

Yang Wentong's brow twitched slightly, but he didn't interrupt, waiting for Wang Qiushi to continue.

"Those tax collectors from the county and township offices used to go door-to-door in every village right after the autumn harvest. This year, even when they came, they wouldn't pay. If they tried to take action, the guerrillas would. After a few rounds, they stopped daring to go to the countryside."

"We must establish this rule and let the people know that they can make a living without paying taxes and grain rations. Those officials who live off taxes are the ones who are left behind."

Yang Wentong looked up at the women bending over and turning the rice in the threshing ground, then at the dozen or so bags of new rice at the warehouse entrance, and slowly nodded.

"Comrade Qiushi, I understand what you mean. Over the years, the villagers have become terrified of being taxed. But as long as someone stands up for them, they are not afraid."

After saying this, his eyes gleamed with eagerness: "Comrade Qiushi, now that the main force is here... does that mean we're not leaving?"

When he asked the question, his voice was a few decibels lower than before, as if he dared not speak too loudly, afraid of shattering that little bit of hope.

Wang Qiushi met his gaze and remained silent for a moment.

"Old Yang, the field troops have other missions. We can't stay in Yanping for too long."

Yang Wentong's eyes dimmed. He lowered his head, looking at his mud-caked straw sandals. "I understand. The main force can't stay in one place forever."

Wang Qiushi patted him on the shoulder: "The main force has left, but the roots of the Red Army will not. We came here to help you to make those roots deep and firm."

As he spoke, he waved behind him. Several soldiers carried two wooden crates from the back of the column and put them down at the edge of the threshing ground.

Lifting the lid of the box revealed rifles neatly stacked inside.

Old sleeve.

The barrel still bears the marks of rust, and the rifling is worn a bit shallow, but the bolt pulls back smoothly. If properly maintained, it can easily fire several hundred rounds.

"There are 80 in total. Adding the ones you collected yourself, and with about a hundred people, we can put together enough frames for two companies."

Yang Wentong squatted down, picked up an old rifle barrel, and weighed it in his hand. He pulled the bolt back, and it clicked crisply.

He put the gun back, stood up, and his eyes brightened considerably.

"Besides the gun, I've left one more person for you. Old Zhou, come here."

A man in his mid-thirties came over in response.

"This is Comrade Zhou Chuanhai. He fought as a guerrilla in northern Fujian for six years. He rose from squad leader to deputy company commander. He's skilled in mountain guerrilla warfare, raids, and ambushes. Let him stay and help you lead the troops and conduct training."

Zhou Chuanhai nodded to Yang Wentong: "Secretary Yang, please take care of me in the future."