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

In a small courtyard on the outskirts of Jiangshan County, Li Zhiwen, dressed in the gray cloth clothes of an ordinary commoner, was flipping through a copy of "Romance of the Three Kingdoms".

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Li Zhiwen closed the book and his gaze fell on the direction of the courtyard gate.

The knocking sounded again.

He stood up and picked up the Mauser pistol from the table.

He walked to the gate, but instead of opening it immediately, he stood behind it and waited for a few seconds.

The knocking on the door stopped for a moment, then started again.

But this time, it turned into rhythmic tapping.

Boom, boom, boom.

Boom, boom, boom.

Li Zhiwen called out towards the door, "Is that Old Tang who's here to deliver firewood?"

A hushed voice came from outside the door: "Old Tang is sick today, so he asked me to bring you firewood and a jar of Shaoxing wine."

The code was matched.

Li Zhiwen then opened the door a crack.

He saw a familiar face—Secretary Qian.

Li Zhiwen breathed a slight sigh of relief, but his left hand fingers remained on the trigger, not released.

He poked his head out the door and looked around.

It has no tail.

"Come in quickly." Li Zhiwen stepped aside to let Secretary Qian into the courtyard, and then locked the door again.

Old Qian didn't find anything unusual about this. People in their line of work are usually very vigilant. If it were him, he wouldn't put his gun away just because he was meeting someone he knew.

He unloaded the firewood from his shoulder and placed it next to the woodpile in the corner of the yard.

Li Zhiwen lowered his voice and asked, "Didn't we agree to minimize contact? What's going on?"

Secretary Qian took out a slip of paper from his pocket. "Comrade Li Zhiwen, I'm here to convey the orders from higher authorities."

Li Zhiwen took the note, unfolded it, quickly glanced at it, and his expression changed slightly.

"Old Qian, did you relay what I told you to the commander?"

Secretary Qian shrugged: "I did tell him, but whether the leader listens or not is his own business."

Li Zhiwen lowered his voice, his tone tinged with urgency, "But you know in our line of work, the fewer people who know our identities, the safer we are. You need to make that clear to the leader."

Secretary Qian shook his head: "Zhiwen, you underestimate these soldiers who command thousands of troops. They are very knowledgeable about these basic things. Since the commander insisted on meeting you, he must have given it a thorough consideration."

Li Zhiwen held the note and paced back and forth in the yard a few times. After a while, he stopped: "I still need to think about this matter."

"Comrade Li!" Secretary Qian slammed his hand on the table, his voice suddenly rising. "Do you think this is a discussion? This is an order. Let me tell you, even if there's danger, even if it's a mountain of knives and a sea of ​​fire right in front of you, if I tell you to jump, you have to jump!"

Li Zhiwen shook his head slightly and gave a wry smile: "I didn't say I wouldn't carry out the order. I was just thinking of a way to both reduce the risk and complete the task assigned by my superiors."

Secretary Qian's expression immediately softened, and a slight smile even appeared on his lips: "No need to think about it. Before we came, the leader had already thought of everything for you."

As he spoke, he pulled off the bundle of rope he was carrying on his back and, without saying a word, put it on Li Zhiwen.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Li Zhiwen quickly tried to back away, but Secretary Qian grabbed his arm.

"Of course I'll tie you up." Secretary Qian's hands moved swiftly, and in no time he had wrapped the rope around Li Zhiwen's arm.

"You're now a prisoner of war of our Red Army. Do you expect us to carry you there in a sedan chair carried by eight men?"

"Ouch, that hurts! Don't tie it so tight, just a little bit is fine." Li Zhiwen grimaced and struggled for a moment.

"That won't do." Secretary Qian tightened his grip, making sure the knot was secure. "If we're going to do it, we have to go all the way. Comrade Xiao Li, I apologize for the inconvenience."

He dusted off his hands, took a step back, looked Li Zhiwen up and down, who was tightly bound, and nodded in satisfaction: "Alright, let's go."

Li Zhiwen's face darkened: "Go my foot! You've tied my legs up."

Li Zhiwen was mistaken for a fleeing Nationalist soldier and was taken to a prisoner-of-war camp by local troops!

Zhou Zeyuan did not meet with him immediately, because just now, Wang Rui'ou, the political commissar of the 10th Red Army, had returned to the command post.

Zhou Zeyuan had long admired this legendary figure and was naturally eager to meet him.

In order to meet the needs of the upcoming operations on the eastern front, the corps headquarters has begun to look for a suitable location east of Quzhou to establish a new command post.

But this matter cannot be rushed, and the command center is still located at the foot of Phoenix Mountain.

Xun Huaizhou lifted the curtain of the command tent, turned to the side, and waved to the people outside: "Come in, this is our command post. It's a bit simple, but it has everything you need."

Wang Ruiou followed him in, his military uniform crisp and his belt neatly fastened. His gaze swept around the room before finally settling on the figure with his head down behind the desk.

Xun Huaizhou took two steps forward and tapped the edge of the table: "Zeyuan, stop drawing, someone's here."

Zhou Zeyuan then raised his head. He glanced at Xun Huaizhou, then at the middle-aged man standing upright at the door, put the pencil on the table, stood up, and patted the lead dust off his hands.

Xun Huaizhou turned to the side and gestured to the two men: "Come, let me introduce you. This is Comrade Wang Rui'ou, the political commissar of the 10th Red Army, and my capable assistant."

Then he waved to Zhou Zeyuan, a smile playing on his lips, "This is the deputy commander of the 7th Red Army Corps, and also the chief strategist of our entire Northern Expeditionary Anti-Japanese Vanguard."

"Comrade Rui, if you have any problems that you can't solve, just go to him. Let me tell you, apart from not being able to have children, there's basically nothing he can't do."

Wang Ruiou was taken aback at first, his gaze lingering on Xun Huaizhou's face for a moment to confirm that he was not joking, before looking back at Zhou Zeyuan.

He had heard many stories about this deputy legion commander from other people, and those rumors were more and more outrageous than the last. If it were someone else saying those things...

He slapped him hard across the face.

What does it mean that 3000 people captured Fuzhou?

What does it mean to transport 6000 tons of grain in 7 days?

They even expanded their army by 40,000 in a single month!

What, you think bragging doesn't cost you anything?

But the one who said this was none other than Comrade Xun Huaizhou, the corps commander, whom he considered to be extremely capable and extremely loyal to the Party.

Then he had no choice but to believe it!

But to his utter surprise, this supposedly all-powerful deputy legion commander was actually so young, looking no more than twenty years old.

His brows still carried a hint of scholarly thinness, which was quite different from the "battlefield warrior" he envisioned.