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

Ma Gongcheng couldn't help but ask, "Commander, how did you come to this feeling? How can I learn it? Will I be able to do it like you after I fight more battles?"

Zhou Zeyuan glanced at him and said bluntly, "You can't learn it, it's innate. Instead of learning from me, you should learn from your chief of staff; he's the real genius."

That's right, that's the truth. If you follow Su Yu, there's a one in a thousand chance you'll learn his essence. Even if you don't learn the essence, learning a little bit will still be useful.

But if you learn by yourself, there's less than a one in ten thousand chance of success, and you might even be led astray!

Ma Gongcheng choked for a moment, then scratched his head sheepishly.

In the distance, shadowy figures crept back from the direction of the forward positions.

Those were Red Army assault teams. They had been up and down seven or eight times in one night, with three different groups of people. The group that was now withdrawing was all walking briskly and standing up straight.

He was relaxed, his face was smug, and there was no sign of fatigue from the long battle.

Zhou Zeyuan waved to them.

Without saying much, he turned around and led the artillery towards the direction of position number two.

Some say that happiness doesn't appear out of thin air, it just shifts.

This concept was put to full use in the war.

Quzhou City, the Fifth Column Command Post.

Luo Zhuoying sat in the command chair, two buttons undone at the collar of his military uniform, his eyes sunken, and his lips chapped and dry.

He hadn't slept a wink all night; every time a gunshot rang out outside, his eyelids would twitch.

That night, he made several tactical adjustments, but each one only resulted in disastrous consequences.

Reinforcements were either inexplicably shelled, or retreating troops were relentlessly pursued and killed by the Red Army, suffering heavy losses.

Later on, he began to doubt his own abilities.

Could it be that all these years of fighting and defeating so many opponents have actually been nothing more than a bunch of weaklings fighting each other?

He simply stopped interfering in frontline operations and delegated command to the frontline troops, allowing them to make their own decisions.

This approach actually improved the situation somewhat. Although the losses were still significant, at least the frequency of bad news decreased considerably.

A staff officer cautiously approached, his voice extremely low: "Commander, it's almost dawn. The Red Army's night raid... should have stopped by now."

"Have the casualty statistics been released yet?" Luo Zhuoying's voice was so hoarse that it startled even himself.

The staff officer opened his notebook, glanced at it, then glanced at it again, his Adam's apple bobbing: "Preliminary casualty statistics from various positions... In summary, the total is approximately four hundred dead and around one thousand wounded."

Before she could finish speaking, Luo Zhuoying suddenly grabbed the teacup on the table and smashed it on the ground.

Whether it's a family tradition or not, the principal liked to smash teacups, and his subordinates liked to smash them too.

At this rate, Jingdezhen is going to make a fortune even before the war is over.

"One night! Six positions lost! Over 1,400 dead and wounded! An entire regiment wiped out! How can we fight this battle? Incompetents! All of them are incompetents!"

The staff officers all lowered their heads in unison, staring at the tips of their boots, not daring to breathe.

An older staff officer forced himself to speak, "Commander, please calm down. The brothers have done their best. It's not that our army is ineffective; it's just that these Red Army soldiers are too cunning."

"They specifically targeted weak points in the defenses, sometimes launching two consecutive attacks on the same position. Our troops would finally repel the enemy's attack and just as we were about to catch our breath, the second wave would arrive, catching us completely off guard."

Another staff officer quickly added, "Furthermore, this group of Red Army soldiers is extremely cunning. They wore our uniforms and circled around from another of our positions. The brothers were caught off guard and were immediately attacked. Who would have thought that the friendly troops coming from the neighboring positions would be Red Army soldiers in disguise..."

Luo Zhuoying slammed her hand on the table in anger. "That just proves they're a bunch of idiots! The Red Army swaggered right under their noses, and they didn't even notice! They didn't even warn their comrades!"

"Are they all pigs? Even pigs aren't this stupid! What were those sentries doing? Did they just sleep all night?"

Only Luo Zhuoying's roar remained in the command room.

The staff officers kept their heads down, wishing they could shrink into a crack in the wall.

No one dared to speak, and no one dared to look up.

They were all waiting, waiting for their anger to subside on its own, waiting for the commander to get tired of yelling and finish yelling, and then sit back down on his own.

However, at that moment, an explosion suddenly came from outside the city.

Then came a second and a third explosion, a series of explosions that shook the windows of the command post.

Luo Zhuoying's roar came to an abrupt halt.

He abruptly turned his head, staring at the horizon outside the window where a sliver of light was already visible.

"It's dawn!" he gritted his teeth, emphasizing each word. "They dare to launch a night raid even at dawn? This is outrageous, utterly outrageous!"

Just then, the communications director pushed open the door of the command post and strode in. He was clutching a telegram in his hand, his steps were much faster than usual, but his face carried a complex expression.

"Commander! Urgent telegram from the principal!"

Luo Zhuoying's fingers trembled slightly when she received the telegram.

Good news means you can live, bad news means you have to die, and even news that's neither good nor bad means you still have to die.

Who can remain calm?

He can still remain calm after reading this telegram; his composure surpasses that of most generals in the National Revolutionary Army!

After several seconds, he muttered in a voice only he could hear, "Great...at least I don't have to die now."

As dawn broke, Zhou Zeyuan led his troops back to camp.

After a night of surprise attacks, the soldiers were exhausted, but their faces were filled with excitement.

Such night raids result in fewer battle losses and greater gains, making them far more satisfying than daytime assaults under heavy fire from the Nationalist army.

A faint aroma of rice wafted from the mess hall, mixed with the smell of pickled vegetables.

The soldiers behind them had stomachs growling uncontrollably.

During the war, the Red Army's meals were always simple.

Forget about thin porridge or steamed buns; it's not that they don't exist, but there's simply not enough time to make them.

Simply mix pre-fried rice with a little water and it's ready to eat.

This type of fried rice is made by grinding cooked rice into powder.

This type of rice noodle is easy to transport and store; a small bag can hold enough food for several days.

Frontline troops prioritize efficiency and cannot afford to waste too much time on eating.

But Zhou Zeyuan has been leading troops for so long, it would be too embarrassing if he really let his men eat dry and tasteless fried noodles every day.

The Red Seventh Army Corps added some fancy touches to their fried noodles, the most basic of which was lard.

The difference between a bowl of fried rice noodles with and without lard is like night and day.

Especially during long-term consumption during combat, if soldiers can consume a small amount of oil, their bodies can maintain a relatively healthy state for a long time.