Chapter 81: The Year's Spring Festival

On the twenty‑eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, heavy snow blocked all the mountain roads.

But the Resistance Union camp was bustling like a market. This was Li Ping'an's first New Year here, and also the first time in many years that everyone could truly celebrate the Spring Festival.

"Li Jiaoguan, do you think this lantern should be hung here?" the young soldier Er Gazi said, standing on a broken stool, holding a red paper lantern that crookedly bore the three big characters "Beat the Japanese Soldiers".

Li Ping'an looked up and examined it for a while, then smiled: "Not bad, not bad, just a bit crooked. Add a bit more to the left… Yes, that's the right vigor!"

Zhou Zhengwei emerged from the house, clutching a stack of red paper: "Comrades, who can write well? Come help me; my brushwork looks like a chicken scratching, I really can't present it."

"I'll do it." Li Ping'an took the brush, thought for a moment, then wrote: "Fist strikes the Kanto Japanese pirates, foot kicks the Manchurian traitors," with a horizontal banner of four big characters: "Return Our Rivers and Mountains".

"Good!" Cheers erupted from all around.

Squad Leader Yang came over carrying two wild rabbits: "Today's luck isn't bad; we caught two foolish roe deer, and we'll add a dish for everyone tonight!"

Mess Hall Team's Lao Wangtou took the game with a grin: "Add the wild boar Li Jiaoguan shot two days ago, and this New Year is truly a feast!"

When night fell, a bonfire was lit in the middle of the camp. Everyone sat in a circle, chatting and laughing. The pot simmered with meat, its aroma drifting far away.

Li Ping'an watched the scene, feeling warm inside. He had been here for almost a year, and for the first time felt like he had a home.

Zhou Zhengwei leaned over, handing him a bowl of hot water: "Missing home?"

Li Ping'an shook his head: "This place is my home."

Zhou Zhengwei patted his shoulder: "I have something to discuss with you. Look, the situation is improving; have you considered… joining the Party?"

Li Ping'an was startled. Joining the Party? He hadn't really thought it through.

"Am I... qualified?"

"Well said!" Zhou Zhengwei laughed, "Even Yan'an knows about your deeds, Chairman Mao has praised you. Moreover, everyone has seen your performance these past months."

Li Ping'an was silent for a moment: "Let me think."

The New Year's Eve dinner began. Everyone ate the rare meat dishes; though only seasoned with salt, they tasted especially fragrant and sweet.

Squad Leader Yang stood up holding a bowl of hot water: "Comrades, we toast with water, a cup to Li Jiaoguan! Without him, we couldn't have such a lavish New Year's Eve feast!"

Everyone rose, and Li Ping'an quickly waved his hand: "It's everyone's merit; I only contributed a bit of effort."

The young soldier Er Gazi, mouth full of meat, said vaguely: "Li Jiaoguan, how are you so capable? You can fight, you can hunt, and your calligraphy is so beautiful…"

Everyone laughed.

Li Ping'an also smiled: "These are all minor things. When spring comes, I'll teach you something even more powerful."

Night deepened, most people had gone to sleep. Li Ping'an sat alone by the fire, holding a sheet of paper and a pencil.

He was writing a Party membership application.

"I voluntarily join the Communist Party of China…" his hand trembled as he wrote those words. It wasn't a momentary impulse; the experiences of the past months had made him truly grasp the weight of the sentence.

He recalled the light in the soldiers' eyes when he taught them martial skills; the smiles on everyone's faces after hunting; and especially the camaraderie of comrades covering each other in every battle.

"I deeply know that only by following the Party can we truly drive out the Japanese Soldiers and let the common people enjoy good lives…" The pen scratched on the paper, his gaze growing ever more resolute.

After writing the final sentence, he exhaled as if a thousand‑pound burden had been lifted.

Early the next morning, Li Ping'an handed the application to Zhou Zhengwei.

Zhou Zhengwei examined it carefully, his eyes slightly reddened: "Good, good! Comrade Li Ping'an, I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!"

He solemnly kept the application: "I'll be your sponsor. Once the spring road is smooth, I'll forward it to the higher Party committee."

Li Ping'an nodded, then suddenly said: "Political Commissar, I have another idea."

"Go ahead."

"I want to form a Special Forces unit," Li Ping'an said, his eyes shining. "We'll call it the Flying Eagle Team. It will handle special missions such as Reconnaissance, ambushes, decapitations…"

Zhou Zhengwei was startled: "Special Forces? That's a new term; how exactly would it work?"

Li Ping'an grew enthusiastic: "I've thought about why the Japanese Soldiers' strongholds are hard to assault—because we lack intelligence and our tactics are too single‑track. My idea is to select a batch of promising recruits for special training."

He continued: "We won't just teach combat; we'll also teach Reconnaissance, infiltration, Camouflage, Explosives… In short, we need to forge them into daggers that can pierce the Japanese Soldiers' hearts!"

Zhou Zhengwei grew more excited as he listened: "Great idea! Tell me, what support do you need?"

"First, personnel," Li Ping'an said. "I must select them myself, preferring quality over quantity. Second, equipment—provide the best possible. And also… the food must keep up."

He laughed: "The training intensity is high; inadequate nutrition won't do. From now on I'll hunt more game to supplement everyone's health."

Talk is cheap; action follows. Right after the Spring Festival, Li Ping'an began selecting members.

The assessment was extremely strict. First physical fitness: cross‑country in the Ten-mile Mountain Area, less than half could endure. Then martial skill: few could survive three moves under Li Ping'an. Finally mental toughness: blindfolded walking on a narrow plank, discerning position by sound in darkness…

After one round, only ten were chosen out of over a hundred.

Squad Leader Yang, looking at the ten, worried a bit: "Isn't that too few?"

Li Ping'an shook his head: "Quality matters, not quantity. When these ten are trained, they'll be worth a regiment."

Training began. Li Ping'an applied all the methods he had seen in "Special Forces: Fire Phoenix" plus his own insights, crafting a unique training program.

Before dawn, the members had to do weighted cross‑country. After returning they practiced infiltration: lying in the snow for half a day, covered with white cloth, blending into the snow.

Li Ping'an demonstrated personally: "Infiltration isn't about staying still; you must be like a stone, even controlling your breath. See, even the white vapor you exhale can reveal your position."

Afternoon was martial training. The ferocity of Ba Ji Quan combined with the flexibility needed for infiltration, Li Ping'an created a fist method suited for Special Operations.

"A punch must be fast, fierce, yet silent," he demonstrated. "Special Operations aren't a ring duel; a single decisive strike is the true way."

Evening was a cultural class. Li Ping'an taught everyone literacy, map‑making, and orientation. They even learned a few Japanese command phrases and dialogues.

"Know yourself and know the enemy, then you can achieve Hundred Battles Hundred Victories," he said. "If one day you can infiltrate a Japanese Soldiers' stronghold undetected, you'll have mastered the art."

Regarding meals, Li Ping'an practiced what he preached. Every day he led hunts for wild boar, deer, foolish roe deer… whatever they saw, they shot. Mess Hall Team's Lao Wangtou grinned ear‑to‑ear: "Following Li Jiaoguan, our mess hall has become a butcher shop!"

The members improved rapidly. In less than a month they could execute various tactical moves with competence.

That day, Li Ping'an brought several bundles: "Today we'll teach you camouflage infiltration."

He opened the bundles; inside were assorted clothes: worn cotton jackets of civilians, uniforms of the Pseudo Army, and even a set of Japanese officer uniforms.

Er Gazi's eyes widened: "Instructor, where did you get these…?"

Li Ping'an smiled: "There's a way. Today we'll learn how to look like whatever we say we are."

He first demonstrated posing as a civilian: bent back, hunched shoulders, fearful eyes, walking timidly. "Remember, details decide success or failure. Even the old calluses on your hands and the mud streaks on your face must be just right."

He then demonstrated posing as a pseudo-army soldier: chest out, head up, but eyes darting, showing a mix of fawning and fear. "The trait of pseudo-army soldiers is to bully the weak and fear the strong; they must be arrogant yet nervous."

Finally, he demonstrated posing as a Japanese soldier: head high, chest out, arrogant gaze, chin slightly raised when speaking, habitually squinting when looking at people. "Japanese soldiers have strict ranks; subordinates absolutely obey superiors, but toward us Chinese they always wear an air of superiority."

The team members learned with great relish. These skills were fresh and practical, and everyone was eager to master them.

One month later, the Flying Eagle Team faced its first combat test.

Li Ping'an received intelligence that a traitor often supplied grain to the Japanese, and would pass through Black Wind Ridge the day after tomorrow.

"This mission: capture the traitor, intercept the grain convoy." Li Ping'an assigned the task, "But remember, don't expose your identity; make it look like bandits did it."

At night, the Flying Eagle Team set out silently. Ten people moved through the mountains and forests like ghosts, soundless.

The next noon, the traitor's grain convoy indeed appeared at Black Wind Ridge. A few pseudo-army soldiers escorted the vehicle, walking lazily and loosely.

Suddenly, a whistle rang out, and ten figures sprang from the snow! Before the pseudo-army soldiers could react, they were all subdued.

The traitor, terrified, knelt and begged for mercy: "Hero, spare my life! I'll give you all the grain, just let me live!"

Er Gazi, posing as a bandit chief, growled: "Get lost and tell the little devils, this convoy is now taken by our Black Stronghold! Dare to send grain again, and we'll rob you every time!"

The traitor scrambled away, rolling and crawling.

The team members exchanged smiles; this was their first mission, completed cleanly and swiftly.

Returning to the camp, Political Commissar Zhou was already waiting: "Well done! Just now we got word—the Japanese really thought it was bandits, and are about to send troops to suppress them!"

Everyone laughed.

Li Ping'an, however, fell into thought: "Commissioner, I think… we could actually create a Black Stronghold."

Zhou Zhengwei blinked: "What do you mean?"

"On the surface it's bandits, but actually it's our cover." Li Ping'an explained, "This way we can confuse the Japanese and gain another stronghold."

Zhou Zhengwei slapped his thigh: "Great idea! Let's do it!"

At night, Li Ping'an stood outside the camp, gazing at the distant stars. He had been in this world almost a year, transforming from a lonely foreigner into a fighter with faith and comrades in the anti-Japanese alliance.

The Flying Eagle Team was just the beginning; he still had much to do.

Footsteps sounded behind him; Zhou Zhengwei approached: "What are you thinking about?"

"Thinking about the future." Li Ping'an said softly, "Once we drive off the Japanese, what kind of country should we build?"

Zhou Zhengwei patted his shoulder: "That will depend on us working together to achieve it. First, we must see to the present tasks."

Li Ping'an nodded, eyes firm: "Rest assured, Commissioner, the Flying Eagle Team will surely become a dagger thrust into the Japanese heart."

In the distance, wolf howls rang out. But to Li Ping'an's ears, they sounded like the bugle of victory.