Chapter 141: Han City Dawn

On the last day of 1950, the surface of the Linjin River was lashed by a cold wind that scraped the face like a knife with ice shards. Li Ping'an had received orders to attack Han City. Li Ping'an lay in a snow pit, rubbing the frost off his Telescope with his frozen fingers. The American spotlights on the opposite bank flickered like ghost fire, lighting up the ice‑bound river.

Battalion Commander, can we cross this ice? the newly assigned instructor Lao Chen asked anxiously.

Li Ping'an grabbed a stone and threw it toward the river's center, hearing a dull thud: frozen solid as porcelain! He told his comrades, when the signal flare lights up, we'll have to fly over it!

At precisely midnight, three red signal flares streaked across the night sky. Li Ping'an was the first to leap from the position: Comrades! Let's go wish the Americans a Happy New Year!

Over a thousand soldiers surged toward the river like a tide. The ice beneath their feet moaned with a creaking sigh, while machine‑gun fire on the opposite bank spat tongues of flame, and men continuously fell, hit by bullets, onto the ice. Li Ping'an ran while shouting: Don't stop! Stopping makes you a live target!

Suddenly a crack split the ice, opening a gash. Several soldiers fell into the icy hole, and Li Ping'an, without a word, leapt in to pull them out. The bone‑chilling river water instantly soaked their cotton jackets; he gritted his teeth and pushed the soldiers onto the bank, while he himself was nearly swept away by the rapid current.

Battalion Commander! Tie Zhu threw a bundle of explosives, blowing open the barbed‑wire fence on the bank!

Li Ping'an crawled forward in the darkness, and as soon as the explosives pack was jammed into the barbed‑wire base, a bullet pierced his cotton cap. He rolled into the blast crater, pulling the fuse; amid the thunderous roar, a chargeway was opened.

Kill! The soldiers surged like tigers descending a mountain, using grenades to clear the way and bayonets to pry open the deer‑shaped fortifications. A rookie was stunned by an American flamethrower; Li Ping'an grabbed him and pressed him down as the flame brushed his back, instantly scorching a huge hole in his cotton jacket.

At daybreak, the Linjin River defenses were completely breached. When Li Ping'an tallied the numbers, he found that a third of the battalion were casualties, yet the captured Americans amounted to a full company. A Black soldier, clutching a family portrait, shivered. Li Ping'an handed him a compressed biscuit: Don't be afraid, we treat prisoners well.

On January 2, the troops advanced to the outskirts of Han City. In the Gaoyang area, a group of British tanks blocked the road like iron turtles. After observing, Li Ping'an found that the British tanks liked to line up in a single‑file snake formation.

Got it! He gathered the Demolition Group, emulating Wu Song slaying a tiger, targeting the seven‑inch weak spot!

That night, he led his men to a hillside beside the road. When the tank column passed, the Demolition Group focused on the lead and tail vehicles, trapping the entire convoy in the narrow stretch. As soon as a British tank crew member scrambled out of the hatch, a sniper singled him out and killed him.

Battalion Commander! We captured a metal beast! Tie Zhu pounded the intact tank with excitement!

Li Ping'an crawled inside to study for a while, and surprisingly managed to turn the tank's gun. As a few thunderous shells battered the British Command Post, instructor Lao Chen stared in disbelief: When did you learn to drive a tank?

Learned on the spot! Li Ping'an wiped off the oil grime; it was just like driving a tractor!

On the night of January 3, Han City was already within sight. Li Ping'an used the captured radio to listen to the Americans organizing a retreat, and immediately ordered a forced march. The soldiers sprinted over the rubble and broken bricks; a seventeen‑year‑old youngster lost his shoe, his sole shredded by glass shards, bloodied to the bone.

Come up! Li Ping'an hoisted him onto his back, saying, "The two of us will go into Han City together!"

In the early hours of January 4, the Recon Soldier who first reached Han City's North Gate reported: the Americans had blown up the Han River Bridge and were fleeing south like stray dogs. Li Ping'an made an instant decision: Company One to seize the high ground, Company Two to purge the remaining enemy, Company Three to join me in firefighting!

Han City was in chaos. The fleeing Americans set fires everywhere, while Korean civilians cried and scrambled to save their belongings. Li Ping'an led his men into the blaze, beating the flames with captured military blankets. An elderly woman clutched a memorial tablet and would not let go; without hesitation, he carried both her and the tablet out of the inferno.

comrade (comrade)! Suddenly a crowd of Korean civilians surged forward, bearing rice cakes and rice wine, surrounding the soldiers. An elderly gentleman in a long robe spoke stiff Chinese: "Chinese people (people), good (good)!"

Just as the troops and civilians were celebrating, Tie Zhu rushed over: Battalion Commander! We found an American warehouse, full of canned food!

Li Ping'an asked first: Is there a Yi Yuan? We need medicine to treat the wounded!

In the largest Yi Yuan in Han City, they discovered a horrific scene: the Americans had sabotaged most of the medical equipment before leaving, and many abandoned Korean patients still lay in the wards. Lin Xueqing arrived with a medical team, trembling with rage: "Beast! They didn't even spare the wounded!"

Use this! Li Ping'an handed over the captured surgical instruments, American-made, to make do with.

At dusk, a simple entry ceremony was held on the central square of Han City. Li Ping'an stood before a bank building half‑shaved off by artillery, looking at the densely packed Chinese‑Korean troops and civilians below, and suddenly recalled a verse he had heard three years earlier while pulling a Rickshaw in Beiping, recited by a foreign student—

…let the banner of victory fly over the rooftops of every city!

He cleared his throat and shouted into the tin horn: Fellow countrymen! We are the Chinese People's Volunteer Army! Han City is liberated!

Amid the thunderous cheers, a little girl squeezed to the front and pinned a paper‑crafted Golden Dahlia onto his chest. Li Ping'an bent down, lifted the child, and noticed her eyes were strikingly like those of Pingle.

That night, the troops rested near the Blue House. The soldiers slept in the abandoned American sleeping bags, taking turns sampling various canned foods. Wang Da Niu gnawed on a pineapple can and remarked: "The Americans really know how to enjoy themselves!"

Don't just eat! Li Ping'an kicked the snoring Sentinel awake, warning: beware of a counter‑attack!

He patrolled alone to the Han Riverbank, staring absentmindedly at the blown‑up bridge. Moonlight reflected on the river, where discarded American steel helmets floated like wilted iron petals. Suddenly he heard footsteps; it was Lin Xueqing arriving with a medical box.

She handed him a thermos cup of ginger soup, to ward off the cold.

Li Ping'an took the cup and saw tiny characters etched on the bottom: "May the world be at peace." The two stood side by side, watching the sporadic gunfire on the southern bank, silent for a long while.

At dawn the next day, the communications soldier delivered an urgent dispatch from headquarters: the enemy was reorganizing a defensive line at Pingze. Li Ping'an gathered his troops and found many soldiers carrying eggs and apples that Korean civilians had slipped to them.

Comrades! He pointed south and asked, "Don't you see the smoking area? That's the Americans burning documents! Let's chase them and drive them into the sea!"

Before the expedition, the little girl who had pinned the Golden Dahlia returned, slipping a note into his pocket. Unfolding it, he saw it written in crooked Chinese characters: "Thank you, Uncle."

Li Ping'an solemnly tucked the note into his chest‑pocket and patted it. The gesture was captured by a war photographer and later became one of the iconic images of Han City's liberation. At that moment, the unit was already on the move, bayonets flashing in the sunrise like a moving forest.

The wind over the Han River fluttered the torn Stars and Stripes, yet could not disperse the lingering smoke and hope in the air. In this city riddled with wounds, every Volunteer Army soldier remembered one truth: the land they measured with their own feet would eventually blossom into peace.