Chapter 321: Luo Dashan: I

Beside the ancient trail of Xiaoting, the mountains stretch endlessly, peaks and ridges overlapping, like natural barriers spanning across the south bank of the Yangtze River.

Luo Dashan's unit received the dire order from the superior Mi Long: at any cost, infiltrate through the mountains and clear the Japanese Army from the northern mountains.

The unit originated from the Sichuan Army; although the Land of Abundance is 'prosperous', it is famously known for the 'Shu Roads'—the rugged, mountainous terrain has long become part of the soldiers' blood. For Luo Dashan and his brothers, marching through this thorn‑filled, jagged stone mountain land feels as easy as walking on flat ground, even more comfortable than a regular road.

Mi Long even got to be a commander this time, actually commanding a battalion and a company.

Just like their 448th Regiment, commanding many troops, Mi Long is copying the model.

At this moment, they were concealed behind dense thickets, peering through the gaps in the foliage, staring intently at a hidden mountain path below.

"Battalion Commander, did you see clearly? Those Japanese soldiers ahead seem to have sensed something's off and are about to slip away!" the adjutant whispered, leaning close to Luo Dashan, his tone edged with impatient urgency, "If we don't act now, those damned dogs will disappear into the deep forest!"

Beside them, the company commander tipped his cap back, eyes narrowed, hand gripping his MP40 Submachine Gun: "Battalion Commander, fire! This is meat handed to us on a platter; we can't let them escape! Those Little Devils just now at Yunchi surely committed many crimes; it's time to settle the score!"

Luo Dashan squinted, his gaze sharp.

He took a hard drag from his Camel Brand Cigarette, crushed the butt forcefully into the damp soil and said, "What's the hurry! Let me ask Mi Long first; if he says to attack, we attack. Just keep an eye on those Little Devils and don't let them run."

Luo Dashan was also intimidated by Mi Long, so he thought to consult Mi Long before striking.

The telegraph operator immediately sent a telegram to Mi Long's side.

The hurried Japanese troops on the mountain path were the command squad led by Colonel Sen Xie Kangyan, commander of the 104th Regiment. With the front lines strained, especially after the terrifying machine‑gun roar from the Yunchi direction, the colonel had to personally bring an elite artillery squad, risk‑forward to the front, to personally command the deployment of special munitions.

They prepared to use Poison Gas Shells to block the Chinese Army's advance.

Even though Sen Xie Kangyan boasted of his extraordinary courage, at this moment he was also extremely cautious, his nerves stretched to the limit.

Since earlier, he had been hearing an irritating buzzing overhead. It was the sound of aircraft engines circling above the clouds—not the Little Devils' planes, but those of the Huaxia Army.

Because Yidu had suffered a devastating Huaxia Air Force strike yesterday, Sen Xie Kangyan was racking his brain when deploying troops. He dared not station forces on the wide road, which had become a live target for aircraft; he only left a few bait units there to take fire.

He chose an extremely treacherous path—the choke point from Baiyang Town to Xiaoting, flanked by cliffs with a narrow goat‑trail in the middle; holding this spot would block the route from Baiyang Town to Xiaoting.

Sen Xie Kangyan halted, peering at the gloomy forest with a telescope, a cold smile curling his lips: "Yo, the backward Chinese army cannot halt the advance of the Japanese Empire! Even using poison gas is for the glory of the Greater East Asia Holy War!"

He even felt a hint of pride at that moment.

Based on the fire density coming from the Yunchi direction earlier, he stubbornly concluded that the Chinese forces attacking there must be at least a battalion, perhaps even a Reinforced Camp. Otherwise, how could there be such intense fire suppression? In reality, only Mi Long's company was there, and the force that actually breached Yunchi's core position was merely a platoon.

The key to this massive illusion was the MG42 General Machine Gun the Japanese called the 'Hitler Saw'.

Mi Long's squad possessed four MG42s, and his company fielded as many as fifteen MG42s.

That monstrous rate of fire and dense hail of bullets completely misled Sen Xie Kangyan's battlefield judgment.

Sen Xie Kangyan thought he was facing a main force, so he treated it as a major enemy and even resorted to poison gas.

But soon, something even more terrifying than the MG42 occurred for Sen Xie Kangyan.

Suddenly, a sharper, more mournful wail ripped the air, like the death god's whistle. Sen Xie Kangyan snapped his head up, looking southeast. The clouds churned, and several black specks rapidly enlarged—it was the Chinese Air Force!

"What? How did they arrive so fast!" Sen Xie Kangyan's once confident, grim face turned ashen, his pupils contracting sharply.

He hadn't expected yesterday's nightmare to return so quickly, and this time its target was his command squad!

Meanwhile, Luo Dashan on the mountainside was still waiting for his big brother Mi Long to issue the attack order. After all, striking now might alert the main force, but the aircraft would be fleeting. As he hesitated, the familiar roar pierced his ears.

Luo Dashan snapped his head up, seeing the sleek twin fuselages, and exclaimed with wild joy, "Great! Our air force is here! No need to telegram Mi Long; we'll call the planes directly!"

Without hesitation, Luo Dashan yanked the signal gun from his waist, aimed at the sky, and shouted, "Signal me! Tell the planes the Little Devils are here!"

"Bang!"

Whoosh!

A dazzling red signal flare, trailing a long smoke tail, shot toward the northeast, tracing a line toward Sen Xie Kangyan's forces.

The Yidu battle yesterday had given Luo Dashan's unit firsthand experience of the shock of ground‑air coordination.

They naturally understood the importance of signal flares, and every unit of the 150th Division was also equipped with signal guns to guide the aircraft to correct targets in such complex mountainous terrain.

Ground‑air coordination is indeed somewhat difficult for the 150th Division now, but Jiang Anguo had his Independent Regiment give a brief tutorial on using signal flares and calling for ground support.

Just afraid the 150th Division will end up fighting a pointless battle!

High above, Lieutenant William piloted his P-38 "Lightning" fighter, scanning the sky above the clouds.

The jungle below was so dense it resembled a massive green carpet, making it hard from above to tell where trees ended and camouflaged Japanese troops began.

William furrowed his brow, his eyes sweeping the ground, muttering to himself, "Those Little Devils are hiding like turtles with their heads in shells; where are they?"

It was like the earlier search for Japanese reinforcements toward Dangyang; after circling from Dangyang to Xiaoting countless times, they still couldn't locate them. If the Japanese hadn't been betrayed—using mirrors to flash the aircraft, which the pilots saw—he still couldn't confirm whether the Dangyang Japanese had dispatched troops to support Xiaoting.