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

"Appropriately reduce the burden?" The middle-aged man's brows furrowed instantly. "What kind of nonsense is this? His 'appropriate'? Who the hell knows what 'appropriate' means?"

"This is a military order, and there's no room for carelessness. So, how about I say that my advisor is also within the 'appropriate' scope, and I 'reduce his workload'?

"Hey, don't rush! This is at least an improvement!" The thin man calmly took out a cigarette from his pocket.

The middle-aged man lashed out with his riding crop, his voice brimming with dissatisfaction and anxiety:

"How could I not be anxious? Our soldiers are carrying machine tools, iron pots, and printing presses, like they're dragging a tortoise shell."

"Airplanes are bombing us from the sky, and ground troops are chasing us relentlessly. If this drags on, we'll fall apart halfway to the Xiang River."

The slender man held a cigarette in one hand, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled.

After his old friend finished venting his anger, he added, "It's not that there are no requirements at all. The order states that necessary combat supplies and core Soviet assets must be preserved, while the rest can be disposed of as appropriate. Just follow that on your end."

"Handle it at your discretion? Old Li, don't you understand? They've given you a sham." The middle-aged burly man sneered and shook his head.

"What qualifies as a core asset? What about machine tools? Those lumps of iron are made from the blood and sweat of workers, can we just throw them away?"

"But they're the most cumbersome; if we don't get rid of them, they'll drag us down sooner or later. Who among the lower-ups has the guts to make that decision? If we throw them away, and then there's the accountability later, no one can afford to take the blame."

The thin man looked at him, smiled, and said casually, "They're afraid to take responsibility, but I'm not. You just focus on fighting well at the front. Leave the burden of reducing the workload of the troops to me. If anything goes wrong, I'll take responsibility."

The middle-aged burly man paused for a moment, then let out a rough laugh: "Hey, how could I forget that? You have an army of 100,000 behind you now. Who dares to touch you?"

The thin man chuckled, "Stop talking nonsense. Is it something to be proud of for a teacher to rely on students to get ahead?"

The middle-aged man flicked his whip, making a gesture in the air, and said, "Keep showing off! I'm looking for someone to lean on, but I can't find anyone yet."

"Your student is truly capable. He started with only 9000 men from Changting, and now he has an army of 10."

"The frequency of the Nationalist army's air raids decreased significantly yesterday. For that alone, he deserves a great credit."

The thin man smiled, beckoned, and gestured for him to come over.

Then he took out a paper package from his pocket and handed it over: "Take this. Zeyuan asked someone to send it to you. It's for treating malaria, and it works surprisingly well."

The middle-aged man took it and squeezed it through the paper: "What is this? Quinine?"

"I don't know, but after taking one packet, I felt much better immediately. Maybe it was some kind of folk remedy he made himself. The effect speaks for itself; it's more effective than Western medicine."

"Then you can keep it." The middle-aged man handed the paper package back. "I'm stronger than you, so I'm not afraid of malaria."

The thin man shoved the paper package back into his hand, his tone serious and brooking no refusal: "Why are you being so polite with me? You're fighting on the front lines, facing immense danger. Even if you don't get to fight, what about your men? They'll need them."

The middle-aged man didn't refuse again. He put the paper package in his pocket, looked up at the thin man, and said, "Okay, I'm leaving. Take care of yourself."

He spurred the horse's flanks, and the chestnut horse galloped eastward through the morning mist.

The sound of hooves gradually faded into the distance, disappearing into the mountains and forests.

The slender man reined in his horse, stood still, and watched the figure disappear into the morning mist. Then he slowly turned his head and looked towards the distant horizon.

The sky over that area was already mostly bright, with a pale golden glow emanating from the edges of the clouds in the east.

"This long night has been dark enough; dawn should be coming soon."

At the same time, Zhou Zeyuan in Quzhou also hadn't slept all night and had been working hard all night as well.

The only difference is that the teacher was busy fighting against the internal opposition, while Zhou Zeyuan was launching a heavy attack on the Kuomintang opposition.

Explosions boomed in the distance, gunfire erupted everywhere, and mortar shells exploded intermittently on the Nationalist army's positions.

Zhou Zeyuan squatted beside the mortar position, holding binoculars in his hand, seemingly staring at the flickering firelight on the position ahead.

But in reality, in the pitch-black night, the telescope could only see some firelight; it could not see anything useful.

This was just for show; what he truly "saw" was the disappearance of the extreme panic on the front lines of the Nationalist army, one by one!

This made him incredibly excited, but if his high spirits faded, he would feel quite frustrated.

After watching for a while, they noticed that the Nationalist troops that had suddenly approached from the rear of the front line were gradually regaining their morale under the bombardment of artillery fire.

He raised his hand. "Stop."

The thumping sounds on the mortar positions quickly ceased.

The gunners released the gun mounts and awaited the next order.

Zhou Zeyuan watched for a while longer, then put down his binoculars and turned to Ma Gongcheng beside him, saying, "That's about enough. Judging by the speed of the Nationalist army, their reinforcements should be arriving soon. Fire a signal flare to notify the assault team to withdraw. The artillery should immediately move to position number two."

Xiao Zhong pulled out a signal gun from his waist, raised it, and pulled the trigger.

Two green signal flares rose into the night sky, trailing plumes of flame, and exploded in mid-air into two bright green balls of light, illuminating the outline of the battlefield for a moment.

Ma Gongcheng squatted down beside him and whispered, "Commander, we've already launched seven or eight raids tonight, and it's almost dawn... Good visibility isn't conducive to raids, shouldn't we retreat?"

Zhou Zeyuan glanced at him: "If that's what you think, then you have the potential to become an excellent commander."

Ma Gongcheng was secretly pleased, but then Zhou Zeyuan added the second half of the sentence: "But they won't become famous generals. Every famous general must be good at understanding people's hearts and dare to break the rules of war."

Ma Gongcheng tilted his head and pondered for a while, then his eyes suddenly lit up: "Commander, do you mean that we think we should withdraw, and the Nationalist army also thinks we should withdraw?"

"Then let's not retreat, rest for a while, let them think we've left, and then come back again?"

Zhou Zeyuan patted him on the shoulder, "Indeed, I feel that the morale of the Nationalist army on the left side of the No. 2 position has collapsed to the limit. If we add fuel to the fire, we can completely crush them."

Ma Gongcheng nodded in complete agreement.

He followed Zhou Zeyuan in a raid for half the night, and at first he didn't quite believe the legion commander's intuition.

What do you mean? The defense there seems lax, and the morale seems low. It sounds like the words of a fortune teller.

But after trying to sneak attack a few times, I succeeded every time.

The Nationalist army positions, which had put up a fierce resistance during the day, were like eggs with their shells smashed when they were hit like this late at night; they shattered at the slightest touch.

After some positions collapsed, several surrounding strongholds also collapsed, and the entire defensive line crumbled like dominoes being toppled.