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

On a hilltop beside the Nanpu River.

A large number of KMT prisoners of war were squatting on the open ground by the stream, their hands covering their heads.

The guns were neatly stacked to one side.

Several Red Army soldiers stood on the perimeter with their guns at the ready, their eyes scanning the group of prisoners of war warily.

But on the faces of these prisoners of war, there was little of the dejection one would expect from a defeated army.

On the contrary, most people had a fierce, defiant look on their faces and in their eyes.

Several of them tilted their heads and looked around at the Red Army soldiers, like a pack of trapped wolves.

As a Red Army soldier was pushing a Nationalist prisoner of war forward, the man suddenly shrugged and shouted, "You little brat, I don't need you to push me! I have legs, I can walk by myself!"

The Red Army soldier stumbled half a step from the force of the throw, but once he regained his footing, he immediately retorted, "Hey, you're pretty cocky. What are you so smug about after losing a battle?"

"Bullshit!" The KMT prisoner of war turned around, his eyes wide open. "If you hadn't cut off our retreat, even if you had another day, you wouldn't have been able to break through our lines!"

The Red Army soldiers were not to be outdone, and sneered: "Hmph, so what? This only shows that your tactics are bad. You only focused on the front and didn't pay attention to your own backs. What good is being able to fight? These days, you have to learn to use your brain to fight."

"I just can't accept this! How could I lose to a bunch of kid soldiers? If word gets out, how am I, Luo Datou, supposed to live in the martial arts world?!"

A Red Army company commander walked over. He wasn't old, but his brows showed a calmness that came from having experienced a lot.

He stopped in front of the KMT prisoner of war, looked him up and down, and then said, "You're Luo Datou, right? There's something I need to clarify with you. Not all of us in the Red Army are young men."

"It's just that the army has expanded too quickly recently, and the ranks are too young, so they've been given more opportunities in battle. If you hold on a little longer, once the main force arrives, you'll see how formidable the old Red Army soldiers are."

Luo Datou scoffed, "Go ahead and brag. It's not like you have to pay to brag."

His words immediately sparked a response among the prisoners of war.

Several Nationalist soldiers squatting nearby chimed in, "That's right! You're just relying on numbers! If it were one-on-one, who's afraid of who!"

"If you've got the guts, let's fight one-on-one! If you beat me, I'll admit what I just said was all bullshit! Otherwise, even if you guys win, I'm not convinced!"

Upon hearing this, the company commander, far from being angry, became interested. A slight smile played on his lips, and he took half a step forward.

"Our Red Army has discipline; we cannot mistreat prisoners of war. You need to make it clear that no matter how badly you're beaten later, it has nothing to do with me."

Luo Datou puffed out his chest and said loudly, "That's exactly what I wanted to say! If you, pretty boy, get hurt, you can't use dirty tricks on me afterwards! In the arena, life and death are predestined, and everyone has to accept their fate!"

"Then I'll make a fool of myself." As soon as he finished speaking, the company commander suddenly raised his foot and kicked out.

The movement was as fast as lightning, and Luo Datou had no time to react. He felt a sharp pain in his groin spread throughout his body, and he curled up like a boiled shrimp.

He covered his groin with both hands, his face contorted in pain. The screams he was about to utter were forced back down his throat, finally turning into a muffled groan.

Seeing this, a group of prisoners of war nearby involuntarily tightened their groin muscles, and some even reflexively covered their groins.

A sympathetic silence filled the air.

The company commander withdrew his foot, turned around, and faced the group of prisoners of war: "Everyone saw it. He just said it himself: life and death are in the hands of fate, each to accept their destiny."

There was a two-second silence in the group of prisoners of war, then a middle-aged man with a thick beard couldn't help but speak up: "Sir, were you in the underworld before? That groin kick was fast, ruthless, and accurate; it must have taken at least ten years of practice."

The company commander glanced at him and nodded: "You could say I've been through some rough times. I used to be a river bandit on the Minjiang River, but we were surrounded and wiped out by government troops, and I couldn't survive. By some twist of fate, I joined the Red Army."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the prisoners of war present, each with their own distinct expression, and raised his voice slightly:

"But I must tell you, someone like me is nothing in the Red Army. There are countless talented people and heroes here."

"Next, some of you will be tried, some will be released, and perhaps some will be interested in our Red Army and join us."

"But I want you to remember that the Red Army is not a force to be trifled with. More troops will fall to our guns in the future. You will only be grateful for your timely surrender today."

Meanwhile, in a makeshift command post on the hilltop, Zhou Zeyuan was sitting behind a desk, opposite a middle-aged man in a Nationalist Army colonel's uniform.

The man sat on a stool, legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, looking quite relaxed.

Su Yu stood by the window, her hands behind her back, her gaze sweeping over the man.

Zhou Zeyuan asked, "Commander Song, what is your relationship with your division commander, Song Tiancai?"

The man flicked his cigarette ash and said casually, "That's my uncle. But my dad and my uncle are just cousins. My uncle lost his mother at a young age and was raised by my grandfather. So, it doesn't really matter if he's my uncle or not."

Su Yu added, "Then I don't understand. He's your uncle, and you're his nephew. Why would he push you into a fire pit?"

Commander Song gave a bitter laugh, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and stubbed it out on the edge of the table: "Perhaps it's because I'm the only one among the commanders who doesn't have any blood on his hands."

"I joined the army relatively late, by which time the unit already had official designations and was more disciplined. I also didn't want to bully the weak. According to your army's policy, someone like me could survive."

"Of course, I never expected to be captured. My mission was to stall for five hours, and then we could retreat. Who knew... you guys would pull this stunt."

Zhou Zeyuan's gaze lingered on his face for a moment before he asked, "Didn't your uncle plan to send you reinforcements?"

Commander Song shook his head: "No, we are a ragtag unit, why would we want to fight the Red Army head-on? If you continue north now, I guarantee that Pucheng will be empty, and the city gates won't even be locked."

"The granaries, fortresses, and bridges were all undamaged and ready for immediate use. Our Commander Zhang deduced that the Red Army's objective was to march north and they wouldn't bother with us."

Zhou Zeyuan raised an eyebrow slightly: "The Commander Zhang you mentioned... could it be Zhang Jin?"