Chapter 1425: Fan La's Struggle

Just as in the original drama, Mi Long's words were ultimately resented by the cannon fodder.

Some struggled, some raged, some felt shame; this myriad of thoughts led to the spectacle of the cannon fodder fighting Mi Long.

Mi Long claimed that back in his Northeast hometown, he had single-handedly dug eighty ice holes to demonstrate his strength, endurance, and bravery.

And he was indeed brave. More than a dozen cannon fodder fought him in relay, yet he managed to knock every single one of them down.

Wang Yan sat in the courtyard, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, smiling as he watched the commotion.

After getting beaten, Kang Ya shamelessly scurried over and squatted beside Wang Yan.

"Wang Dage, are you just going to let him insult you like that? If I were you, I wouldn't stand for it; I'd definitely teach him a severe lesson."

Wang Yan slapped him on the head: "I think you're the one in this courtyard who most deserves a lesson. The moment I arrived, you tried to stir up trouble between me and Mi Long. I haven't dealt with you yet, haven't you learned your lesson?"

"Hehehe... I was just saying that, just saying that." Kang Ya quickly scrambled away to avoid being caught by Wang Yan.

It was no joke; Mi Long had already beaten them badly, yet dealing with Mi Long would be a matter of just a few punches and kicks for Wang Yan, so imagine what he would do to them.

"Serves you right," Bu La laughed heartily. "You bastard, you're the best at stirring up trouble, yet you hide at the back when things go wrong. Mi Long, if you ask me, you hit him too lightly just now; that dog didn't even use his stick. Now he's still egging Wang Dage on; hurry up and beat the hell out of this turtle's son."

"Get lost, get lost, you good-for-nothing scoundrel; I just didn't hit you hard enough," Mi Long waved his hand impatiently.

Fighting consumed stamina, and Mi Long didn't have much technique; every strike was nearly full force. To single-handedly fight so many people and last this long was already no small feat. Claiming to have dug eighty ice holes in one breath was surely blowing smoke, but he was indeed impressive and possessed a natural physical gift.

However, he was ultimately just an ordinary person; after gulping down lots of water and lying on his hammock to catch his breath for a while, if asked to fight again now, he could only endure a beating.

"Hahaha, look at you, utterly exhausted, aren't you?" Bu La turned and said, "Yao Ma, you took the worst beating just now; go on, seek revenge!"

"You melon-headed kid, what if he's faking? It wasn't you who got hit. Kang Ya, you go try."

"I'm not going," Kang Ya grinned. A group of cannon fodder who had just been beaten gathered together and burst into laughter again.

After the laughter subsided, Bu La started borrowing money from everyone again; he wanted to redeem the gun he had pawned.

"Wang Dage, you're the only one here who can help me; I beg you, take pity on me, lend a helping hand, and save me from this suffering." Bu La bent over, sticking his rear end out, bowing and making obeisance to Wang Yan.

Wang Yan took a cigarette from his pocket, handed one to Bu La, lit his own, took a puff, and looked at Bu La lighting his: "Recently I've reflected on our past defeats and felt deeply helpless; I feel others can't be relied upon, and I must take command myself. But after thinking it over, I realize I don't have that capability.

Bu La, you know I don't have a penny to my name; I'm so poor I might as well sell my ass. The most valuable things I have, besides this watch, are the Jiang Zhongzheng rifle in the room. How about this: from now on, you call me 'Lord Wang,' let me enjoy a moment of power and indulge in the fantasy of being an official, and I'll give you that gun."

At this time, the address for subordinates speaking to senior officers was the surname plus 'Lord.' Only high-ranking officials could be addressed as some 'Lord,' not 'Regimental Commander' or 'Divisional Commander' as depicted in TV dramas.

"Greetings, Lord Wang!" Bu La was a sharp fellow; without a second thought or another word, he immediately stood at attention and saluted.

Wang Yan nodded satisfactorily: "Remember, don't get it wrong; now go."

"Yes! Lord Wang!"

Immediately, Bu La dashed into the room and soon emerged with the gun.

It was only then that he reacted: "Wait a minute, Wang Dage... no, Lord Wang!"

Seeing Wang Yan nodding with a laugh, Bu La said, "If you give me the gun, what will you use?"

"Didn't that surname Yu say they would issue guns?"

"But you didn't believe him, did you?" Fan La added a question.

"Now I'll choose to believe; I'll just see whether he actually issues the guns or not."

"Oh, so you're tricking a fool here?" Bu La became unhappy; like a dog changing its face, he sneered, "Still 'Lord Wang'? Go dream your spring and autumn grand dreams, hahaha..."

The other cannon fodder also burst into laughter.

"I'm not tricking a fool; you are a genuine fool." Wang Yan slapped him, laughing and scolding, "Use your brain when you speak; aren't you afraid I'll trim you?"

"Trim me, trim me; anyway, you can't trim me to death." Seeing that Wang Yan made no move, Bu La said, "Then what about your gun..."

"If you want to use it, just take it; I feel I won't need it." Wang Yan waved his hand.

"Then how do you feel that way?" Fan La asked curiously.

"We haven't seen any foreigners here, nor have we heard any of you mention equipment distribution; what does that indicate?"

Yao Ma cooperated as the straight man: "What does it indicate?"

"It indicates that we are unlikely to cross the river directly and launch a frontal assault on South Heaven Gate; most probably, we will fly by plane directly behind the Japanese lines. We belong to the force plunging straight into their hinterland to disrupt the Japanese rear."

"And what does that indicate?" Fan La pressed further.

"Planes have takeoff weight limits; at this time, people are more important than guns. Dozens of guns equal one person's weight; add in ammunition, and how heavy would that be? I think it's highly probable they won't let us bring guns."

"Damn it, if we don't bring guns, how are we supposed to fight?" Bu La instinctively cursed.

"Didn't that surname Yu say that once we get there, we can have whatever we want?" Yao Ma chimed in, looking at Wang Yan uncertainly, "Is what you say true?"

Wang Yan smiled and shook his head: "Who knows whether it's true or false?"

Thus, everyone began discussing loudly how exactly they would fight, how powerful the planes were, how many people they could carry, and so on; all their words were innocent and earnest.

In this environment, they were engaging in boring nonsense, yet hearing these words across a century later makes one's heart ache terribly...

At this moment, the Veterinarian walked in pinching his pipe stem, scanned the crowd with his eyes, and finally looked at Wang Yan: "Young man, come give me a hand; two more kids have died; let's go bury them."

"The old sir sees that I am easy to talk to."

"You, young man, are a reasonable person who understands the greater good," the Veterinarian grinned, revealing a mouthful of old yellow teeth.

"Enough, stop putting a tall hat on me."

Although he said this, Wang Yan still got up, swayed leisurely outside, and saw a two-wheeled wooden cart. On it lay two corpses wrapped in straw mats, their feet still sticking out; beside the corpses were two iron shovels and two bowls of thick porridge.

"Aiya, I'm old now; I can't do the work anymore," the Veterinarian shook his head looking at the two corpses on the cart.

Wang Yan went up and dragged the cart forward: "How old is the old sir?"

"Fifty-four."

"Not easy."

The Veterinarian sighed, waved his hand, and said: "In these times, what is easy? If we aren't harmed by the little Japanese devils, that's already good enough."

Chatting idly, the two of them went like this to the wild fields outside the town.

Wang Yan wielded the iron shovel and skillfully dug two pits.

"Good heavens, you work so fast," the Veterinarian looked at him as if he were livestock.

"If I'm not fast, can I manage? I've come all this way losing battles; the things I've done most, besides fleeing in disarray, are digging trenches. I'm very skilled at this work. Let me tell you, old sir, fighting in the north was truly miserable. In the dead of winter, the earth was frozen rock-hard; one shovel strike would only scrape off a layer. That was truly suffering immense hardship."

"You haven't had it easy either."

"Then you must take back what you just said."

The veterinarian laughed, letting out an "Aiya!" as he spoke: "In the past when I dug pits, it was always Fan La who accompanied me, dragging along that rotten leg of his..."

"He's recovering from injuries; he couldn't engage in major exertion."

"Speaking of that leg of his, how much longer until it heals?"

"Give it another three days and it'll be mostly fine; I'm not telling lies."

The veterinarian fell silent for a moment, then asked: "Do you think Fan La can go or not?"

"Let him go or not as he pleases; the old sir is rather meddlesome."

"Aiya, you don't understand. Fan La is a fine young man, but he's lost his soul, lost his spirit; he looks just like a ghost. Unlike you; you are an upright and honorable man."

"That's understandable." Wang Yan climbed out of the pit, took out cigarettes, and offered one to the veterinarian. "We're all veterans accustomed to war, fighting all the way, losing all the way, fleeing all the way. If we must blame someone, blame that Old Buddha Empress Dowager for being ignorant, causing our vast nation to fall to this state."

"I know that too." The veterinarian exhaled a long plume of smoke. "But people cannot live like that. Look at that bunch in the courtyard; although every one of them curses heaven, earth, and their commanders when talking about war, when the moment arrives, few of them shrink back. Especially A Yi, you witnessed it yourself. They say he's never been on a battlefield, never fought, doesn't know how brutal it is, but I feel otherwise; the man genuinely wants to defend his home and protect his country from the bottom of his heart."

"It's just this Fan La; he's educated, knows foreign languages, came from the student soldiers, and hails from the great city of Beiping, so he has insight. Yet such a person is now bent on becoming a ghost."

"You don't know; just before you arrived, this Fan La wrote a last testament to his family, saying a major battle is coming, life and death are unpredictable, so they should consider him dead. He is determined not to be human anymore..."

"I understand now, old sir. You get along well with Fan La, and seeing him so devoid of spirit troubles your heart. But then again, going to the battlefield is risking one's life; truly, life and death are unpredictable. If he goes, he might die. If he doesn't go, he might live longer. Whether it's good or bad, who can say for certain?"

"Yes, I'm just talking to you about this. Sigh... let him be..."

"Old sir, you're just creating trouble for yourself. At your age, if you don't fight, who can say anything against you?"

"I precisely want to fight, fight until I die. I still have a son who is also a soldier. You said one thing well: better to die than be a slave to a conquered nation. Those damn little Japanese devils have ruined our good days!"

Wang Yan smiled: "This matter is truly hard to predict. Even without the little Japanese, we would barely have any peaceful days. You are older, so you surely know about past events. Those great warlords, today you fight me, tomorrow I fight you, the day after we join forces to fight him; all claiming kingship and hegemony, vying for the empire. How could there be any peace?"

"That's the principle of it. In my hometown, there were bandits too; their cruelty was no lighter than the little Japanese devils; they truly could wreak havoc on people."

"It's all the same. In our Northeast, they're called 'Xiao Liuzi'; none of them are good people."

The two chatted on like this, talking and laughing while working, burying the two dead young soldiers...

War is just like this; there isn't much room for sentimental mourning. Earlier on, there was some, but later, after seeing so much, one becomes numb; one can even joke while facing dead corpses. Even if the dead are one's own good brothers, one can still smile and say they've gone to enjoy happiness.

Yet is there no sorrow?

It's just that much sorrow is worn with a smile, haunting the living for decades, until the very moment before death, still leaving people unable to let go...

The veterinarian inviting Wang Yan over really had no specific purpose; mainly, he just found Wang Yan rather likable, Wang Yan was also easy to talk to, so he just wanted to chat with Wang Yan.

Truth be told, the veterinarian's popularity within the Cannon Fodder Regiment was absolutely top-notch; digging pits and filling graves never lacked for hands...

The next day, Zhang Lixian brought a team over to register and compile records, counting the personnel.

Mi Long lay in a hammock fanning himself, Fan La stretched his leg nearby, and other rank-and-file warriors each had their own thoughts as they watched the people in the courtyard happily registering for the unit.

Wang Yan was the first to go up.

"Wang Yan, Northeast Army... Second Lieutenant, Platoon Leader..."

Zhang Lixian, an acquaintance, sat at the table handling a fountain pen to record; with no other disputes, the recording was completed, and he directed Wang Yan to step aside.

Immediately following was Bu La, who was carrying his rifle.

Yes, Bu La had ultimately managed to retrieve his rifle, getting his nose bloodied and looking quite wretched in the process, yet upon returning, he still pretended to be a hero, displaying the valor of his rogue conduct.

Next, Yao Ma, the Veterinarian, Kang Ya, Snake Butt, and even Bean Cake, Li Wula, and others, all registered their names, units, and positions.

It wasn't until the very last person finished that Fan La, who had been watching from the side for a long time, clenched his teeth and walked over with a limp.

He stopped before Zhang Lixian, saluted, and shouted at the top of his lungs: "Meng Fanliao..."

"Your leg..."

"Reporting to the officer, this was stabbed by a little Japanese devil's bayonet earlier, but it's nearly healed. I heard there will be training afterwards; please grant me some time. Before we depart, it will definitely be healed, absolutely not affecting combat."

Zhang Lixian frowned as he looked at him: "Can you really manage? No need to overexert yourself; the battle in Burma won't be a one-time affair; there will be other opportunities later."

"I definitely can!" Fan La spoke with certainty, saluting again. "Please, officer, grant my wish!"

"Fan La, now that's a real man!" Bu La laughed heartily.

Yao Ma raised his thumb: "He has a bit of the look of a hero from our Sichuan Army Regiment."

The crowd erupted into noisy laughter and chatter once more.

"Not bad; didn't lose face!" The Veterinarian turned his head and said a sentence to Wang Yan.

"Happy now?"

"Going to die, what's there to be happy about? It's just that this young man has finally recovered a little bit of his soul..."

"Silence!" Zhang Lixian shouted loudly, then asked uncertainly, "Have you truly thought this through?"

"Yes! Please, officer, grant my wish!"

"Good!"

Zhang Lixian slapped the table forcefully. "The Sichuan Army Regiment needs soldiers like you. I'll record you; you don't need to participate in training these few days; heal your wound properly."

"Thank you very much." Fan La clasped his hands and offered greetings.

"Madmen! A bunch of madmen! Fools! Fighting to die and still damn well rushing to go!" Mi Long cursed aloud from his hammock.

However, no one paid him any mind; once Zhang Lixian and his people left, the cannon fodder gathered together again, laughing and joking, carefree and heartless.

Fan La also joined the fun; no longer bitter and resentful as before, he stayed with the Veterinarian, talking.

No one knew what kind of ideological struggle Fan La had undergone these past two days, nor did anyone care about those things.

They only knew that if he went, he was a brother together with them; if he didn't go, he was an outsider...

?? Daily thanks to the good brothers who generously donate, cast monthly tickets, recommendation tickets, and silently read the book for their strong support!

? (End of Chapter)