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

Old Wang turned around and said truthfully, "Committee Member He, as you know, the director's surgery was a bit late, and the wound is quite infected. We can only do our best to clean and disinfect it, and we are not entirely sure when it will heal."

The young man nodded. "Thank you for your care. Dr. Wang, I have something I'd like to discuss with Old Chen. Please go out first."

Old Wang responded, picked up the equipment tray, and went out, closing the door behind him.

The ward fell silent.

The middle-aged man looked at the young man's tense face and asked with a smile, "You look a little off. What's wrong? Did Secretary Xiang upset you again?"

The young man shook his head, walked to the bedside, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It wasn't something that provoked me. On the contrary, I got a promotion."

He handed over the few pages of telegrams in his hand, saying, "These are appointments from the Central Military Commission, which is currently being transferred. Take a look."

The middle-aged man took the telegram, his gaze slowly moving from top to bottom. He read it once, then again, his face gradually darkening.

Finally, he slammed the telegram on the bedside table: "What the hell is going on! I was supposed to be in charge of military affairs, so why isn't my name on the list?"

The young man's expression remained largely unchanged; he simply said calmly, "Old Chen, what are you getting so angry about? Zhou Zeyuan isn't even on this list. Tell me, isn't he more capable than you?"

The middle-aged man held the telegram in his hand, spread it out in front of him, and raised his voice a few decibels: "How can that be the same? He commands a large army, so it doesn't matter whether he's an official or not."

"But what state am I in now? I have nothing, how can I contribute to the revolution? And that's not all, they made all sorts of promises when they let me stay, it was all just comforting words!"

He threw the telegram onto the bed. "Forget it, I don't want to deal with this anymore. You go back, I need to rest."

He closed his eyes after he finished speaking, his chest heaving, clearly still angry.

The young man showed no intention of getting up and leaving.

He leaned closer and lowered his voice: "Old Chen, don't be in such a hurry to send me away."

He glanced at the door of the ward, making sure no one was outside, before continuing.

"Secretary Xiang is commanding the 24th Red Army Division to fight the Nationalist army to the death on the front lines. This is still the old routine. If this continues, the Central Military Region's resources will be exhausted sooner or later. I think we should do something."

The middle-aged man opened his eyes and looked at him: "What do you mean by 'what to do'? What can you do? We can't mobilize a single soldier, and they won't listen to our suggestions."

A sharp glint flashed in the young man's eyes: "There is a person who has both soldiers and generals, and whose words carry weight. If he offers his opinion, Secretary Xiang certainly won't dare to disobey."

"The problem is that this person is currently unaware of the difficulties Ruijin is facing. If he could find out, there might still be a chance to salvage the situation."

The middle-aged man sat up abruptly, the movement aggravating the wound on his leg, causing him to shudder in pain, but he ignored it: "You mean, Comrade Zeyuan?"

"That's right. Comrade Zeyuan, please send troops to join us, and let Comrade Qiubai take charge of the overall situation. This is the best option at the moment."

The middle-aged man's gaze swept back and forth across the young man's face, confirming that this was neither a joke nor a test.

"That's good, Comrade Qiubai is very capable, and Comrade Zeyuan is young and promising. However, we don't have a radio. How can we send news from Ruijin to our comrades in the local area without the secretary's permission?"

"No need for radio, just send messengers directly. The Fujian-Zhejiang Military Region's troops have already reached southern Fujian. Don't we have a ready-made channel to enter Guangdong via Ganzhou? Chen Jitang is turning a blind eye to us."

He paused deliberately, sighed, and said, "But then again, there are risks involved in doing this behind Secretary Xiang's back. Old Chen, I won't drag you into this. You take good care of your injury. I'll handle this on my own."

The middle-aged man grabbed his wrist. "What are you talking about! No questions asked, let's drink it."

……

The Xiamen port was bustling with activity once again.

As Jiang Boqing stepped off the gangplank, he immediately saw a row of people in Guangdong Army uniforms standing on the dock.

The leader, a man in his early forties of medium build, stood there with a gleaming Browning pistol tucked into his waistband, his back ramrod straight.

It was Li Hanhun, the deputy commander of the Second Army of the Guangdong Army.

Li Hanhun strode forward, extending his hand from afar: "Commander Jiang! We've been waiting for you!"

Jiang Boqing quickly stepped forward, and the two clasped hands together.

Jiang Boqing said politely, "Commander Li, you've worked hard. We, the Central Army, are here to share the burden with you."

"That's right, that's right. We really wouldn't feel confident without you here in Xiamen."

As Li Hanhun spoke, he turned to the side and stretched his hand out towards the outside of the dock, "Let's go back to the command post first. On the way, I can talk to Commander Jiang about the recent enemy situation."

The two walked out of the dock side by side, followed closely by guards and entourage. Several American jeeps were parked outside the dock; in Fujian, this was considered quite a lavish display.

Li Hanhun personally opened the car door for Jiang Boqing and then went around to the other side to get into the car.

After starting the car, Li Hanhun leaned back in his seat and casually recounted the battle situation:

"Commander Jiang, we just arrived and fought a battle with the vanguard of the Red Army in Tongan County."

"Good heavens, you didn't see that, those guys were really risking their lives. We had already set up machine guns, and they just kept charging up through the hail of bullets."

Jiang Boqing turned to look at him: "Oh? Is that so?"

"Absolutely true!" Li Hanhun shook his head, his expression showing a hint of lingering fear. His acting was so natural that it could easily outshine any young heartthrob.

"They were all from the same regiment, and my side couldn't even hold out for a single exchange. We were almost wiped out on the spot. If the main force of the division hadn't come from both flanks to encircle us, my entire regiment would have been wiped out on the spot."

"After the battle, when we took a headcount, my battalion commander came back crying like a child, saying that almost half of his men had been killed."

Jiang Boqing listened, and began to believe him to some extent.

He had long heard of Su Yu's prowess; in the Battle of Gutian Shuikou, four divisions were driven into infighting, a feat unprecedented in the history of the National Revolutionary Army.

Although Li Hanhun's account sounds tragic, it aligns with the Red Army's consistent style.

The only thing that made him a little unsure was whether Li Hanhun had exaggerated the battle situation.

For warlords, exaggerating the enemy's strength and the scale of the battle in order to get the Central Army to send more reinforcements was a common tactic.

But at least one thing he could confirm was that the Red Army had indeed arrived, and with considerable force.