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

Dusk was falling outside Ningde city.

A Nationalist Army reconnaissance squad sneaked back along a path in the southeast of the city, and all of the dozen or so men were covered in dust and dirt.

The company commander, who was walking at the front, had a hole cut in his uniform by shrapnel.

The city gate opened a crack, let them in, and then quickly closed again, with the bolts falling back down.

The company commander went straight to the division headquarters to report.

Several scouts leaned against the wall of the city gate, took out cigarettes from their waists, and lit them when they were spotted by two guards.

The guard squad leader was a seasoned veteran surnamed Liu, who had served in the 49th Division for five or six years.

He noticed the scouts squatting by the wall, puffing away, so he went over, took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and offered them to each of them.

"Brother, what's it like outside? Are there more and more Red Army troops outside the city? What are they doing? Is it possible they're going to attack the city?"

The scout took a deep drag on his cigarette, exhaling smoke from his nose as if trying to expel all his fatigue.

"Damn it, those Red Army soldiers are really ruthless. We almost got surrounded and killed when we reached Yangtou Village. If we hadn't run fast, we would have been stuck there today."

He took another drag of his cigarette. "There are a lot of people. Several surrounding villages are full of them. As far as the eye can see, there are people wearing gray military uniforms everywhere."

"But it's strange, many of them were helping the farmers harvest rice, using sickles, not like they were preparing to attack a city."

The young guard next to Squad Leader Liu breathed a slight sigh of relief upon hearing this, but was still somewhat uneasy: "What if they suddenly attack? Can we hold them off with just a few men?"

Before the scout could answer, Squad Leader Liu spoke first: "Don't worry unnecessarily. Haven't you heard? The main force of the Red Army is currently in the south. The troops around us are just local forces, and their combat effectiveness is so-so."

"Don't let their arrogance outside the city fool you; when they encounter our fortified stronghold, they won't dare to make a move at all."

"Look at that port area, would any Red Army soldiers dare to go there? No, right? What does that mean? It means they simply didn't have the guts to attack Ningde."

The scout nodded, stubbed out his cigarette on the ground, and said, "The platoon leader is right. If I were a Red Army commander, and I wanted to attack the city, I would definitely seize the port first."

"Block all the routes for reinforcements and supplies, then surround the city. Isn't this the standard tactic for besieging cities throughout history?"

"In my opinion, the Red Army just wanted to seize a batch of grain this time. Once they've harvested all the rice, they'll lift the siege."

Upon hearing this, the young guard finally felt completely relieved.

He leaned against the wall and cursed, "Damn it, what a coward. I chased the Red Army all over the Dabie Mountains, my feet were almost blistered."

"His mother came to Fujian, so she didn't have to run away anymore. She was blocked in the city by the Red Army and couldn't go anywhere."

Everyone present laughed when he said that.

Laughter echoed a few times in the city gate before being swallowed up by the twilight.

In the 49th Division headquarters, the reconnaissance company commander lowered his voice and reported the situation he had gathered in detail.

After listening, the staff officer waved him away and then turned around and pushed open the door to the operations room.

In the operations room, Division Commander Wu Chengren was standing in front of the table, one hand on his hip and the other holding a microphone, talking animatedly into the phone.

"The provincial government made it very clear that the goods were destined for Ningde. I'm under much more pressure than you. Don't worry, brother, after we re-equip ourselves, I'll leave any surplus to you."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by an extremely noisy burst of sound.

The voice was high-pitched and sharp, like a dull knife scraping against sheet metal, carrying endless greetings and Zu'an-style enthusiasm.

Wu Chengren only listened for a short while before feeling that all his immediate family members had been insulted, and that most of his ancestors for three generations had also been insulted.

He moved the microphone a little further away, waiting for the sound on the other end to subside slightly, before bringing it close to his ear again and saying with a grin, "Hey bro, just kidding. How should we split it?"

He listened intently for a moment, a feigned embarrassment on his face, but his voice betrayed an undisguised smugness:

"Oh, why are you being so polite? A 30/70 split would be too much. How about 40/60? I'll leave you 40%."

Another roar came through the microphone, making Wu Chengren's eyebrows twitch.

Wu Chengren retorted without hesitation: "So I'm the third one, you bastard surnamed Ruan, you're really asking for an exorbitant amount. What right do you have to take more than your share?"

"If you piss me off, I'll store all my stock in the warehouse and won't leave you a single bullet."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, and the voice noticeably dropped several notches.

After listening for a while, a smile appeared on Wu Chengren's lips, but his tone became more serious:

"That's the proper way to do business. If you'd offered to split it 50/50 right off the bat, I would have agreed. But not now. You've angered me, and I need some compensation for emotional distress. I want 55%."

"If you agree, then agree. If you don't, I'll change into my uniform first thing tomorrow morning. Once the weapons are distributed to the soldiers, it won't be so easy to take them back."

After a while, a voice came through the phone, filled with gritted teeth.

Upon hearing this, Wu Chengren chuckled and said, "Come on, let's not beat around the bush. Even if the higher-ups order you to send troops, you should still worry about whether this is a trap set by the Red Army to besiege the enemy's stronghold and ambush reinforcements. If that really happens, you're on your own. Who can you rely on?"

He slammed down the phone, turned around, saw the staff officer standing in the doorway, and asked, "The reconnaissance team is back?"

"They're back. The situation is similar to before. There are quite a few Red Army soldiers outside the city, but they are mainly helping the people harvest rice. There are no signs of an attack on the city. No Red Army activity has been detected at the port either."

Wu Chengren nodded. "That's good. Once that batch of goods arrives tomorrow, our situation will be different."

As the sunset painted the sky, a Stars and Stripes flag appeared on the sea off Ningde Port.

The Nationalist Army officer on duty stood on the dock and saw the flag fluttering slowly in the twilight sea breeze in the distance, which invigorated him.

He lowered his binoculars, turned back, and shouted to the sentries on the shore, "They're here! The arms dealer's ship is here!"

The cargo ship slowly docked.

Several Nationalist Army officers, led by a junior officer, boarded the deck, shook hands with the ship's first mate, and then entered the cabin.

As soon as the hatch opened, the cargo hold was filled with neatly stacked wooden crates.

The leading officer casually opened a wooden crate, revealing a brand-new Enfield rifle with a thin layer of anti-rust oil on the barrel.

In a box next to it, neatly stacked yellow bullets were laid out.

Further inside, there were light and heavy machine guns, various spare parts, helmets, and water bottles.

The ship was full of surplus World War I supplies belonging to the U.S. military, which dazzled several officers. Some even couldn't resist reaching out to touch the cold gun barrels.

The leading officer swallowed hard, then turned to the ship's first mate and said, "Unload the cargo."

The first mate shook his head, his tone polite but his attitude firm: "Sir, I'm sorry, I haven't received any news from Fuzhou yet. We can only begin unloading after the provincial government has completed the payment."