Chapter 335: Huyashan! White‑Hot!

Mi Long's fingers slammed down hard, the trigger had already been pulled to the bottom, yet the expected ripping‑cloth "tat‑tat" sound never came.

The gun barrel emitted a "ka‑da" sound of the firing pin striking an empty chamber!

Out of ammo!

Mi Long's heart gave a sudden thump, but his hand kept moving.

"Bie Du Zi!" he shouted.

He stared at the MG42 in his hands that had earned great merit; though a hundred regrets weighed on his heart, now this thing was just a burning stick.

He gritted his teeth, flung the machine gun aside, and gave the blackened muzzle one last look, as if bidding farewell to an old comrade.

Immediately, he seized the Mauser 98 rifle beside him, shouldered it, aimed at the nearest charging Japanese soldier, and with a "bang" the shot sent the soldier's body lurching and collapsing to the ground.

Mi Long deftly pulled the bolt, hot shells sprang out, he didn't even glance at them, and kept firing at the Japanese Army.

At that moment, on the nearby machine‑gun position, groans of distress rose and fell.

"Company Commander, I'm out of ammo here too!"

"Company Commander, the machine gun has gone silent!"

"Reporting, Company Commander, the ammo bag is empty!"

Hearing these cries, Mi Long's anger flared instantly. He whirled his head and barked at the troops, "Out of ammo? You'll just give up? Throw those burning sticks away for me!"

While shouting, he exaggerated his movements to demonstrate to his brothers, "Grab the rifles beside you! Fix bayonets on them! Since we're out of ammo, we'll fight the Little Devils hand‑to‑hand! Are you still afraid of bayonet combat?"

"Yes, Company Commander!"

The brothers were revived by Mi Long's roar, and the earlier slump vanished.

The position instantly rang with metallic clatters—the sound of bayonets being fixed.

"Ka‑da!"

"Ka‑da!"

Sharp, crisp bangs rang out as the glinting bayonets were mounted on the muzzles.

At this moment, on Mi Long's position, the three platoons and the company section had fewer than half their men and horses left.

The Little Devils were already charging recklessly; if we keep fighting, I'll run out of bullets and lose my men!

Mi Long lifted his rifle forward, the bayonet tip pointing straight ahead, fierce light flashing in his eyes; the stance resembled a lone wolf backed into a dead end.

Meanwhile, behind Xiaoting, in the temporary command post.

The atmosphere was tense, yet the regiment's mind was unusually clear. He stared intently at the battle map before him, its dense red and blue markings representing the two sides locked in bloody combat.

Division Commander of the 150th Division Xu Guozhang stood nearby, his finger thumping the Huyashan spot on the map, and said gravely, "Regimental Commander, whether this battle can be won, and the whole Yichang situation, depends on whether we can hold Huyashan, bite the Japanese Army there hard, and draw more enemy forces here."

The regiment showed no hesitation, nodding sharply, eyes sharp as hawks: "Messenger! Immediately order Third Company's Jiang Yuan to rush to Huyashan at full speed! Spare no cost to support Mi Long!"

In fact, without Xu Guozhang's reminder, the regiment had already set its sights on Huyashan.

As an excellent frontline commander, his sense of terrain was extremely keen. Huyashan was crucial—a natural meat grinder and an ideal choke point. If the Japanese Army could be blocked at Huyashan's mouth, the narrow Xiaoting Ancient Path could lock them in completely.

It's like striking a snake at the seven‑inch spot, a single move to defeat the enemy!

Thus, the Japanese forces to the north at Dangyang had been almost wiped out by air raids, leaving few survivors; the main force from the Zhijiang direction was dead‑locked at Baiyang, unable to move; and the fiercest firepower of these three Japanese thrusts was now all drawn to Xiaoting and Huyashan.

It formed a massive encirclement, and Huyashan was the sole gap—the "plug" that must be sealed.

Shortly after the regiment issued the order, a messenger, drenched in sweat, rushed in, reporting excitedly:

"Regimental Commander! There's news from Huyashan! Company Commander Zhang of the First Company… reacted so fast that after taking Xiaoting, he led his men to Huyashan ahead of us, and is now exchanging fire with the enemy, sealing that mouth!"

"What?"

The regiment froze for a moment, then slammed the table hard, startling the adjacent staff officer.

He laughed loudly, a flash of delight and disbelief in his eyes: "Alright! That Mi Long kid! I knew he was a war‑born raw material! This reaction speed even beats mine! Got guts!"

Just as Mi Long was about to throw himself into a desperate clash with the enemy, a rapid shuffle of footsteps and noisy voices erupted behind him.

"Mi Long! Dead yet?"

From afar, a hurried voice called from behind.

It rode the wind into Mi Long's ears.

That familiar voice, Mi Long instantly recognized its source—it had finally arrived; had it not, his hundred‑plus‑jin frame would truly be stranded here.

Mi Long's tense face instantly relaxed, the heavy stone in his heart dropping with a "clang". He grinned widely, still pulling the trigger, but his tone was full of triumph and teasing:

"Bie Du Zi! Ha ha! You really underestimate me! Even if Jiang Yuan dies, I won't die! The old Yama King doesn't dare to claim me!"

As his words faded, the thicket behind him rustled, and the Third Company's men surged forward like a tide. Company Commander Jiang Yuan, panting and dust‑covered, brought with him an entire fresh company.

"Support! Our support has arrived!"

Hearing the shout, Mi Long's blood‑red eyes instantly lit up.

He didn't hesitate, spun around, and spotted the MG42 he'd reluctantly tossed aside. He sprinted forward in a single stride, snatching the "beloved heart‑treasure" as if reclaiming a long‑lost father.

Then, without looking back, he plunged into the arriving Third Company crowd. His sudden charge bewildered everyone; some even thought Mi Long was lugging the machine gun to desert.

Company Commander Jiang Yuan, standing at the rear directing the troops, saw Mi Long barreling forward with a fierce aura, arms outstretched, a grin plastered on his face, assuming the fellow wanted a comrade's embrace after a good fight.

Instead, as Jiang Yuan opened his arms, a gust of wind brushed past him.

Mi Long gave him no glance, slipped straight under Jiang Yuan's armpit, vaulted over him, and rushed into the soldier cluster behind.

"Damn it, where's this kid running?" Jiang Yuan muttered, hands raised awkwardly, bewildered.

Before he could react, Mi Long roared from the front, "Give me the ammo boxes! Quickly! I still have to fight the Little Devils for three hundred rounds!"

The nearby ammo‑carrying soldier hadn't reacted when Mi Long, like a starving tiger pouncing, zeroed in on the two heavy ammo boxes.

He snatched the two barrels, each holding three hundred rounds, without a word. In his hands the weight felt as light as carrying two chicks.

Grabbing the ammo, Mi Long ignored any chatter, turned and sprinted toward the position. He swiftly opened the box, lifted the heavy ammo belt, and with a "ka‑cha" snapped it onto the machine gun.

All set, Mi Long raised the machine gun again, eyes on the fresh wave of Japanese soldiers below, the fire in his heart flaring anew.

PS: Zhijiang and Zhijiang are two place names