Chapter 77: Dongbei Resistance Union

The north wind whirled snow foam, stinging the face. Li Ping'an crouched in a wind‑sheltered mountain hollow, gazing at the distant snow‑blanketed Linhai Xueyuan. Though the four traitors had been dealt with, his heart grew heavier.

These days wandering in Dongbei, he saw with his own eyes how the Resistance Union brothers lived. In temperatures of minus thirty‑to‑forty degrees, many wore thin shirts and straw shoes, starving to skin‑and‑bone. Their weapons were even poorer—old tubes, crude rifles, bullets counted out one by one. Worst of all, the Japanese Soldiers forced the civilians into collective camps, cutting the Resistance Union's contact with the people.

This isn't war, it's a living hell. Li Ping'an muttered to himself, scooping a handful of snow to rub on his face.

He recalled the gold and silver he had gathered in the space from the traitors, and the food and weapons he had smuggled from a Japanese Soldiers' depot. Kept here they were just dead weight, but in the Resistance Union's hands they could save countless lives!

Talk is cheap, action is cheap. Li Ping'an slipped into the space and began inventorying his goods. Good heavens, the food alone piled into a small hill: white flour, corn, sorghum rice, plus heaps of salted meat and dried fish. The weapons weren't few either: Type 38 rifle, Wang Ba box, bullet grenades, and even two crooked‑hand machine guns.

That's enough to feed a battalion for half a year. Li Ping'an mulled it over, needing a way to get it out.

But how to deliver it? The Resistance Union appears and disappears like a phantom, and he knows the terrain and people nowhere—where could he find a way?

Just as he was fretting, a sound came from outside. Li Ping'an quickly slipped out of the space, crouched on the slope and looked down.

He saw a squad of five Japanese Soldiers chasing two people. Ahead ran an old man carrying a burlap sack, with a half‑grown boy behind him. As they were about to be caught, the old man shoved the boy into a snow hollow and turned to run the opposite way.

"Baka! Stop!" the Japanese Soldiers opened fire, bullets striking the old man's feet and spraying a spray of snow foam.

Li Ping'an's gaze hardened, he raised his hand and fired two shots. Two Japanese Soldiers fell instantly, the rest scrambling for cover.

Taking advantage of the moment, the old man had already slipped into the woods, vanished from sight. Li Ping'an darted down the slope like a leopard, the dagger in hand flashing coldly; the remaining three Japanese Soldiers hadn't reacted before they fell dead. They quickly dragged the bodies into a deep trench, buried them with snow, retrieved the guns, and then went to find the boy hidden in the snow hollow.

"Don't be afraid, I'm Chinese." Li Ping'an lowered his voice, "Who was that old man just now?"

The boy, about fourteen or fifteen, nose running from the cold, stared warily at Li Ping'an: "Why did you shoot the Japanese Soldiers?"

"They just don't look right," Li Ping'an said, pulling a steamed bun from his chest and handing it over: "Eat, it's still warm."

The boy swallowed a mouthful of saliva, snatched the bun and devoured it, choking and stretching his neck. Li Ping'an handed him a water flask; the boy gulped several swallows, then steadied himself.

"My grandpa used to deliver food up the mountain…" the boy mumbled, "the Japanese Soldiers keep watch, so I have to sneak deliveries at night…"

Li Ping'an felt a stir inside: Which mountain? To whom?

The boy suddenly shut his mouth, his gaze turning wary again.

Li Ping'an smiled: "Don't be afraid, I also want to send something up the mountain. Look at this—" He pulled a cloth sack from behind, filled with white flour, salted meat, and a small packet of salt.

The boy's eyes widened: "These… are all for the mountain?"

"There's more. I have plenty, I just can't find anyone to deliver," Li Ping'an whispered.

After hesitating, the boy gritted his teeth: "I'll take you to see someone, but you'll have to be blindfolded."

Li Ping'an readily agreed. The boy blindfolded him with a torn strip of cloth, led him windingly for about half an hour, finally stopping before a shanty.

"Lao Zhang Shu! I've brought someone!" the boy shouted.

A lean man emerged from the shanty, eyes wary: "Er Gazi, who's this?"

Li Ping'an tore off his blindfold: "Fellow countryman, don't be afraid, I'm here to deliver food." He handed over the cloth sack.

Lao Zhang opened the sack skeptically, his eyes lighting up, then he hardened his face: "Where did it come from? A spy sent by the Japanese Soldiers?"

Li Ping'an didn't waste words: "If you really want to be a traitor, you wouldn't bother testing me with gold bars, would you? I know a place where food and weapons are hidden; send someone with me to inspect the cargo."

Lao Zhang stared at him for a while, then lowered his voice: "Wait a moment." He slipped back into the shanty and, shortly after, emerged with a middle‑aged man.

The man, though dressed in rags, had sharp eyes and a straight back—clearly a veteran of the troops.

"This is Squad Leader Yang," Lao Zhang introduced. "Whatever you need to say, tell him."

Li Ping'an got straight to the point: "I have food, I have weapons, I want to give them to the Resistance Union. I just can't find anyone to take them."

Squad Leader Yang sized him up from head to toe: "How much?"

White flour five thousand jin, corn ten thousand jin, guns three hundred pieces, bullets fifty boxes, plus grenades and medicines… Li Ping'an recited the figures.

Squad Leader Yang inhaled a cold breath: "Really?"

The supplies are hidden in a nearby mountain cave, ready to be taken at any time.

Squad Leader Yang pondered briefly: "I can't decide this myself; I must report to superiors. Meet here again at this time tomorrow."

The next day, Squad Leader Yang brought a more capable man. The man bore a scar across his face, his gaze blazing.

"This is our Zhou Zhengwei," Squad Leader Yang introduced. "We'll inspect the goods you mentioned."

Li Ping'an nodded: "Follow me."

He led the two into a concealed mountain cave—actually the stock he had temporarily shifted out of the space. Seeing the food and weapons piled like a small hill, and the few boxes of gold and silver, Zhou Zhengwei's hands trembled slightly.

"Comrade Li, you've done a great service!" Zhou Zhengwei grasped Li Ping'an's hand tightly. "These supplies could save how many soldiers' lives! By the way, may I know your full name?"

Li Ping'an smiled: "Surname Li, given name Ping'an. I'm also fighting the anti‑Japanese in Dongbei; I heard you were short on supplies, so I brought some over."

Zhou Zhengwei was so moved he could not speak. Suddenly his expression hardened: "Comrade Li, could I ask you for an even bigger favor?"

"You say."

The Japanese Soldiers have a warehouse in Jiamusi, stocked with winter supplies. We want to seize it, but we lack manpower…

Li Ping'an's eyes lit up: "Where's the warehouse? What's the guard situation?"

Three days later, the warehouse outside Jiamusi city.

On a moonless, windy night, Li Ping'an slipped to the outside of the warehouse wall like a phantom. The defenses were stricter than imagined, searchlights sweeping back and forth, patrol squads arriving in succession.

But he was prepared. Timing the patrols' shift change, he silently vaulted over the wall, rolled upon landing and hid behind a stack of wooden crates.

The main door was locked, but a vent window was left ajar. Li Ping'an slipped in like a raccoon.

Good heavens! Inside were piles of cotton coats, blankets, food, medicine, and boxes of canned goods—enough for a division to winter through.

Li Ping'an didn't hesitate; he placed both hands on the supplies, focused his mind, and the stacked goods vanished instantly, drawn into the space. Within moments, most of the warehouse was emptied.

Just as he was about to leave, footsteps sounded. A few Japanese Soldiers laughed and approached the warehouse, apparently on night‑watch duty.

Li Ping'an slipped behind a stack of goods, muttering under his breath, "Now we're in trouble!"

As the Japanese Soldiers drew nearer, a sudden clamor erupted from outside: "Fire! The grain stack is on fire!"

The Japanese Soldiers scrambled outward. Li Ping'an seized the chance to slip out, seeing the distant grain stack ablaze, clearly the Resistance Union comrades providing cover.

He gave a slight smile, vaulted over the wall, and vanished swiftly into the night.

The next day, the Resistance Union's hidden camp was filled with jubilation. The soldiers donned new cotton coats, ate white‑flour buns, and each stood spirited and vigorous.

Zhou Zhengwei grabbed Li Ping'an's hand: Comrade Li, you've been a great help! These supplies are enough for us to get through this winter!

Li Ping'an shook his head: This still isn't enough. I must teach you a lasting method.

In the days that followed, Li Ping'an taught the soldiers martial skills by day. He deliberately simplified the Wind-Cleaving Eight Blades into practical moves: chop, slash, flick, thrust, stab, sweep, block, and carve, each striking directly at the vital point.

The sword technique is excellent! Simple and practical! The soldiers practiced with fiery enthusiasm; when they met the Japanese Soldiers, they cut them down one by one!

At night he led a small detachment to seize supplies: today a police station, tomorrow a transport unit.

Gradually, the Resistance Alliance's equipment improved, and the soldiers' faces grew increasingly rosy. Among the common folk a rumor spread: a snowfield knight was assisting the Resistance Alliance, specifically dealing with Japanese Soldiers and traitors.

One night, Li Ping'an practiced alone in the forest. Lately he felt his martial skill advancing; the true qi in his body surged like tides, Divine Perception's scanning range expanded from twenty meters to forty meters, and even the sound of field mice burrowing in the distant snowfield was heard crystal‑clear.

He knew this was a sign of breaking through the Transformation Realm. Qi and blood surged around him like mercury, his bones occasionally emitted faint popping sounds, and a sharp gleam in his eyes made his vision unusually clear.

He has always had a great battle with Miyamoto Musashi, but now he has a more important mission.

Gazing at the speckled campfires in the distance, where Resistance Alliance soldiers were camping, Li Ping'an's mouth curled into a faint smile.

Miyamoto Musashi, just wait. When I arm all these brothers, we'll see how long you can still swagger!

In the cold wind, his silhouette continued to train, like a lone pine on the snowfield—upright and resilient.