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

The river crossing operation proceeded smoothly under the cover of night.

More than sixty boats shuttled back and forth, carrying the soldiers of the 11th Red Army across the river one boat at a time.

After crossing the river, the vanguard quickly spread out in all directions, seized several high points, and set up machine guns.

Su Yu's habit was always the same: whether marching or crossing a river, he always made sure there was a way out and cover.

This was an instinct he had developed through countless life-or-death battles.

In the middle of the night, Su Yu herself set foot on the land on the other side.

He had barely steadied himself when a platoon leader from a reconnaissance platoon strode forward, stood at attention, and saluted.

"Reporting to the Chief of Staff! My platoon has been ordered to conduct reconnaissance and is preparing to advance southward for search, guided by the local navigator."

The man was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with broad shoulders and a steady gaze. He had a Mauser pistol at his waist and a Mauser standard rifle slung over his back.

Su Yu recognized him and immediately began searching her memory.

In just a moment, he remembered that this was a soldier from the reconnaissance company of the 7th Red Army Division, who had previously distinguished himself and received commendations in the campaign to attack southern Zhejiang!

The thought that this was Ze Yuan's old subordinate softened his gaze: "Go, be careful. If you encounter the enemy, don't linger in battle, and report back as soon as possible."

"yes!"

The guide was a fellow villager in his fifties, a local, who knew the mountain roads in this area very well.

He walked at the front of the group, holding a bamboo pole in his hand, parting the thorns by the roadside as he spoke in a low voice:

"There's a village ahead called Longchi Village. Although it's also in the mountains, the terrain is relatively gentler. There are some terraced fields around it where people grow sweet potatoes and taro, and they also supplement their income by hunting."

"The local guerrillas in Youxi used to camp here, and the villagers were very welcoming to our Red Army."

The reconnaissance platoon leader, who was following behind him, was about to respond when suddenly, "Bang!"

A gunshot rang out from the ravine ahead.

"It's in the direction of Longchi Village!" Director Xiang's expression changed.

"Follow me!" The reconnaissance platoon leader rushed out without hesitation.

The soldiers behind him filed in.

Longchi Village is small, with a dozen or so households scattered on a hillside.

In the center of the threshing ground stood a Nationalist army company commander, holding a Mauser pistol in his hand, with wisps of smoke rising from the muzzle.

An old man lay at his feet, a large dark patch spreading across his chest; he was no longer moving.

Several women knelt on the ground nearby, weeping, but were stopped by two soldiers with guns who wouldn't let them get close.

The company commander glanced around, his face fierce: "I'll say it again! If you don't hand over the grain today, we'll have nothing to eat, so we'll eat your flesh and drink your blood!"

Several strong young men on the edge of the drying ground clenched their fists, their eyes blazing with fury.

But the old man behind them tugged at their clothes and pulled them back.

They are ordinary people, they don't have guns, rushing in would only be suicide and would also endanger their families.

Seeing that no one moved, the company commander became increasingly impatient. He grabbed a little girl from the arms of a woman nearby.

The girl was only five or six years old, as thin as a stick. She was grabbed by the collar and lifted up, her legs kicking wildly in the air, crying loudly in fright.

"See that?" The company commander lifted the girl higher and waved her at the crowd. "If you don't hand over your grain, I'll kill you all one by one, starting with this little brat!"

The little girl cried her heart out, and the woman rushed forward to snatch her away, but was held firmly to the ground by two soldiers.

Right at this moment.

"Bang!"

A gunshot rang out from the darkness surrounding the drying ground.

The Nationalist army company commander was still holding the child, but now he had a bloody hole in his forehead.

His expression froze between ferocity and astonishment, and then, as if his bones had been removed, he fell straight backward.

The girl slipped from his grasp and was caught by a quick-thinking Nationalist soldier standing nearby, who stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what to do.

Everyone on the drying ground was stunned.

Immediately afterwards, a calm yet stern voice rang out from the darkness: "Comrades, charge! Watch out for friendly fire!"

"Da da da..."

Two light machine guns opened fire simultaneously, accurately targeting the Nationalist soldiers who were holding their guns.

The first to fall were the two soldiers who were holding the woman down, followed by a machine gunner standing in the middle of the threshing ground, who was taken down by a burst of bullets as soon as he turned his gun.

The remaining dozen or so Nationalist soldiers finally reacted. Some lay down and fired wildly, while others turned and ran out of the village, but they were caught up by bullets after only a few steps and fell to the ground.

The reconnaissance platoon leader, holding his Mauser standard rifle, crouched behind a low wall, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield.

Instead of rushing out, he calmly fired shot after shot, each shot taking down an enemy who was still resisting.

The gunfire on the threshing ground stopped in less than three minutes.

More than half of the thirty-odd Nationalist soldiers fell, and the remaining dozen or so threw down their guns, covered their heads with their hands, and squatted down against the wall, not daring to even breathe.

The reconnaissance platoon leader stood up, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and strode across the drying ground.

He bent down to look at the old man on the ground, who was already lifeless, and then turned to look at the little girl who had been rescued.

The girl was still crying, held tightly in the woman's arms, trembling all over, but at least she was still alive.

He turned around and said to the soldiers behind him, "Tie up the living ones. For the dead, drag them outside the village and bury them. Hurry up, Lu Xingbang's men might come to our aid at any time."

After saying that, he took out half a pencil and a folded piece of paper from his pocket, quickly wrote a few lines, and then handed them to the communications soldier:

"Return to headquarters immediately. Tell them that a small enemy detachment, about a platoon, was attacked and wiped out in Longchi Village. There is no change in the enemy situation in the Youxi direction. I suggest the main force accelerate its advance."

When Lu Xingbang received the news, he was having porridge in a side room in the backyard of the Youxi County Government Office.

Of course, his lunch wouldn't just be porridge; he'd also have two dishes of pickled vegetables!

This was only because a batch of grain had been successfully transported to Youxi today despite harassment by the Red Army guerrillas, and he was in a great mood, which is why he dared to be so extravagant.

Drink as much thin porridge as you want, eat as much pickled vegetables as you want, at least you can fill yourself up with water.

Whether it will keep you full or not is another matter!

"Traces of the Red Army have appeared on the south bank of the Min River?"

"Yes, Commander. One of our grain requisition teams has been wiped out by the enemy. Our sentries have spotted a large number of boats on the river north of Zhanghu Slope, at least several dozen. It is estimated that... at least one regiment has already crossed the river."

After listening, Lu Xingbang remained silent for a few seconds. He stared at the thin white porridge in the bowl, and the pent-up frustration and grievances of the past few days welled up in his heart. He raised his hand and swept the bowl to the ground.

"Wei Lihuang! He told me the Minjiang River defense line was as solid as an iron barrel, and that I could focus on defending the south bank against the Red Army! And now, after only a few days, that iron barrel is already leaking!"

The adjutants and staff officers in the side room all kept their heads down, not daring to breathe.

Only Chen Changshun, the adjutant standing to Lu Xingbang's left, hesitated for a moment before speaking:

"Commander, please calm down. This is not Commander Wei's fault; the Red Army is simply too cunning. Who knew they would bypass Shuikou and cross the river north of Zhanghuban? The Nationalist army had no defenses there at all, which..."