Chapter 143

The Han River in January 1951 was frozen like a shattered giant mirror. Ice shards striking the tank wreckage made a grating sound that set one's teeth on edge.

Li Ping'an squatted in the trench, scraping his bayonet on the frozen ground: "See that? Old Li Qimi's gotten good at this—he's dragging us into a war of attrition."

Lao Chen blew white vapor and rubbed his hands: "The soldiers' cotton uniforms have frozen solid as iron armor. Last night's tally showed more frostbite than bullet wounds!"

"Have logistics give the captured overcoats to the sentinels first." Li Ping'an had just finished saying that when a piercing whistle came from the sky.

"Get down!" He shoved Lao Chen into the artillery pit. The shell exploded nearby, shaking dirt that rattled down.

"Damn it!" Li Ping'an spat out the dirt in his mouth, sure that an artillery observer was hiding on the opposite hill.

Tie Zhu ducked in, crouching low: "Battalion Commander, division orders: hold the position at all costs, await follow‑up units!"

"Follow‑up units?" Li Ping'an gave a wry smile. "The brothers behind are still shuffling through the ice and snow!"

After the sky grew pitch black, a thick fog rose over the river. Li Ping'an led the reconnaissance platoon to the riverbank; through his telescope the opposite bank shone brightly, the hum of the American generators audible.

"Real luxury." He muttered, "Lighting lamps and burning oil—like running a night market."

Suddenly a splashing sound came from mid‑river. Li Ping'an held his breath and dimly saw several black shapes swimming across.

"Water ghosts!" he hissed, "Take them alive!"

When the shadows drew near, the soldiers lunged and grappled. Only then did they realize they were People's Army recon soldiers; the officer leading them had lips purple from the cold.

"Comrade...... Hengcheng...... critical......" The officer fumbled an oilcloth‑wrapped map from his pocket, then passed out before finishing his sentence.

The markings on the map made Li Ping'an suck in a cold breath: the American cavalry division was about to outflank Hengcheng's western wing; if they succeeded, the entire eastern front would be encircled like dumplings.

"We have to report this to the command post right away!" Lao Chen stamped his feet in agitation.

"Too late." Li Ping'an stared at the map; the radio was silent, and the signalman would need half a day to go back and forth. We must take the initiative and muddy the waters!

He summoned the company and platoon leaders for a meeting, scraping his bayonet on the frozen earth: "First company will feint at the outpost, second company will blow up the road, third company will follow me straight to the dragon's lair!"

"Too risky!" Lao Chen objected. "That's marching straight into the tiger's mouth!"

"That's exactly why we need to strike unexpectedly and win." Li Ping'an's eyes gleamed. "Old Li Qimi surely never imagined we'd dare take the offensive!"

At midnight, the thick fog became the perfect cover. Li Ping'an led an eighty‑man assault team, ghost‑like through the enemy lines. As they waded across a tributary of the Han River, their frozen trouser legs crackled.

"Battalion Commander, a patrol squad!" the point man suddenly signaled.

A hundred meters out, a squad of Korean troops was patrolling the road. Li Ping'an signaled the men to hide in the ditch, then quietly gathered his internal energy.

The patrol squad drew nearer, their flashlight beams jerking across the snow. Just as exposure seemed imminent, Li Ping'an moved like lightning, using the Carefree Step to tread without trace and instantly felled three sentinels.

"Change clothes!" he whispered. "We'll pose as a Korean patrol squad."

The captured uniforms, though ill‑fitting, were convincing enough in the dark. Tie Zhu tugged uncomfortably at his waistband: "Battalion Commander, these clothes reek of kimchi!"

"Make do!" Li Ping'an tucked his submachine gun into his overcoat. "Remember, if questioned, act mute."

The unit swaggered southward. They bluffed past several patrols along the way; the deeper they went, the more lax the enemy became.

At the fork in the road, Li Ping'an suddenly halted: "Look over there."

All he saw was a forest of antennas rising from the camp tents, the radio station's indicator lights blinking nonstop.

"Command Center!" Tie Zhu rubbed his hands excitedly.

The men crept silently to the perimeter. Inside the barbed wire, enemy troops huddled around a fire for warmth, the scent of coffee drifting on the wind.

"Move!" Li Ping'an gave the order.

Three teams acted simultaneously. Li Ping'an channeled energy from his Eight Extremes Fist, yanking the tent pegs out with his bare hands. As he flung the flap open and stormed in, the officer inside jumped up in shock.

"You're under arrest!" Li Ping'an aimed his gun at them, shouting, "Hands on head!"

The scene inside the tent was shocking: the battle map was covered with markings of our deployments, and the radio was broadcasting unit reports.

"Ask which unit they belong to." Li Ping'an said to the signalman who understood Korean.

Interrogation revealed this to be the forward command post of the U. S. 27th Brigade, currently coordinating the siege of Hengcheng.

"Perfect timing." Li Ping'an snorted, then sent a radio message to their superiors, claiming they had encountered stubborn resistance and requesting reinforcements.

After the false information was sent, a reply came quickly: approval to delay the attack, awaiting artillery support.

"Success!" the signalman's voice trembled with excitement.

Suddenly gunfire erupted outside the tent. It turned out the patrol squad had spotted something amiss. Tie Zhu and his men threw themselves into a desperate block, the explosions deafening.

"Destroy everything!" Li Ping'an ordered, at the same time stuffing vital documents into his chest.

The retreat turned into a bloodbath. The enemy closed in from all sides; the assault team fought while withdrawing. By the riverbank, only half of the original eighty remained.

"Battalion Commander, the bridge is blown!" Tie Zhu pointed at the pontoon bridge, now broken into several sections.

Pursuers drew ever closer, bullets kicking up spray of ice on the frozen surface. Li Ping'an gazed at the river, and a plan formed in his mind.

"Go into the river! Cross over the ice!"

The soldiers charged across the thin ice toward the opposite bank. Men kept falling, blood blooming like red flowers on the ice. Li Ping'an fired while running, then his leg went numb and he collapsed onto the ice.

"The battalion commander is wounded!" Tie Zhu shouted.

Several soldiers immediately turned back, hoisting Li Ping'an and pressing on. Bullets whizzed past their ears, the ice cracking beneath their feet. Just as they neared the far shore, a shell struck an ice floe, hurling everyone into the river.

The bone‑chilling river water instantly engulfed Li Ping'an. He summoned his internal energy, but his injured leg could not find strength. As he was about to sink, Tie Zhu grabbed his collar.

"Let go!" Li Ping'an choked on water, shouting, "Take the documents... back!"

Tie Zhu clung on desperately; other soldiers swam over to help. They formed a human chain, hand in hand, and finally scrambled ashore before the pursuers arrived.

"You go on ahead!" Li Ping'an shoved away those supporting him, "I'll cover the rear!"

He lay behind a rock, activating his Divine Perception to sweep the river surface. Every move of the enemy lay within his grasp; a few final shots precisely dropped the pursuers. When ammunition and supplies ran out, a familiar bugle call sounded from the opposite bank—Old Chen had brought the reinforcement unit running up.

By the time they returned to the position, dawn had broken. Li Ping'an was carried into the infirmary; Lin Xueqing slit open his frozen trouser leg and sucked in a cold breath.

A penetrating wound plus severe frostbite—immediate surgery was required!

The surgery took place in the artillery pit. With no anesthetic, Li Ping'an bit down on a wooden stick, sweat pouring like rain. As they extracted the bullet, he faintly heard the accent of his hometown in Hebei...

He awoke deep into the night. By candlelight, Lin Xue was changing dressings for the other wounded; seeing him awake, she handed him a bowl of rice soup.

"You kept calling out 'Pingle' while unconscious." she said softly.

Li Ping'an gazed at the candle flame without speaking. Outside the cave came the song "On Great Conduct Mountain"; the soldiers sang it low.

"Have the documents arrived?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Lao Chen heard the voice and came in: "They've arrived! The Command Center adjusted the deployment; Horizontal City holds!"

At this moment the Signalman delivered the military report: The East Front Troops dealt a heavy blow to the enemy in Horizontal City, shattering the encirclement plan. But the report finally said, due to supply difficulties, the troops would shift to defense.

"Withdraw?" Li Ping'an asked.

"Not a withdrawal, but a shift of position." Lao Chen corrected.

Li Ping'an gazed outside the cave. In the morning light, the Han River wound like a silver ribbon. The clear sound of ice chunks colliding seemed to be saying something.

He told the comrades softly, "We have shed blood here, but the spring of Morning Calm will surely come."

From afar drifted the scent of azalea; although the branches were still covered with ice and snow, those pink buds were already growing secretly.