Chapter 349: Salt Administration, Turtle Shell

Yao Quanyi personally led the team, wielding a captured MP40, with three full magazines slung across his chest.

He no longer charged at the front, but stayed in the middle to coordinate; at first, because the forces were limited—only two battalions—he had to command on the front line, but now more troops are entering Yichang, and their advantage keeps growing.

Yao Quanyi only needs to command from the rear; this is the true urban‑combat commander: eyes on all six directions, ears hearing from all sides, exchanging the greatest result for the smallest cost.

The Salt Administration's blue‑brick building finally appeared at the edge of the view.

On the roof, a tattered rising‑sun flag still fluttered in the wind.

"Sniper, suppress the roof!"

"Combat engineer, prepare the explosives pack!"

"33rd Regiment, disperse and encircle! Leave no opening; we want to capture the Japanese regiment commander alive."

Yao Quanyi's mouth twitched upward slightly.

He knows that if they can capture Uchiyama Eitaro alive, this Battle of Yichang will be a tremendous victory, for he is the Japanese Class A Division commander.

The night grew deeper.

But Yichang's darkness is being torn apart inch by inch.

Countless illumination flares in the sky light up Yichang's night.

The Salt Administration's basement air hangs heavy like lead.

The oil lamp flickered, casting the large Yichang city‑defense map on the wall; the southern gate is densely encircled in red, while the three western gates are crudely marked "Minor". At this moment, a trembling hand is tearing half of the map away.

"Report! The western gate is under heavy artillery fire! Zhenchuan Gate has fallen! Chinese forces are pouring in through the breach! Lieutenant Colonel Sakuma is missing." The signalman staggered in, his cap askew, his face covered in ash.

Uchiyama Eitaro snapped his head up, his face as pale as paper. He had already dispatched the main force of the 65th Regiment to the front to block the Chinese offensive, yet within a short time even Lieutenant Colonel Sakuma went missing; he knew this spell was now dire.

Only because Yao Quanyi's Independent Regiment assault surged like a tide, nearly tearing the city defenses apart. He wagered that the Huaxia army's main force must be to the south, and the western gate was merely a feint.

But now the artillery roars again, precisely demolishing the wall fortifications—far from a probe!

"Baka…" he mutters to himself, cold sweat soaking his shirt, "Could they… be splitting their forces into two routes?!"

He staggers backward, toppling the teacup on the table; brown tea spills over the map like blood. The ancestral military saber in his hand clatters to the floor with a clang, its sheath cracking a fine line—this sword, a gift from the Emperor, he treasured greatly, now disgraced here.

The entire command post fell into dead silence.

The staff exchanged glances, none daring to speak. Outside, explosions grew nearer, and firelight through the louvered windows cast ghostly flickering shadows on the wall.

At that moment, Chief of Staff Colonel Kobayashi Nobuo stepped forward, his voice low yet firm: "Division commander, we… should withdraw."

"Withdraw?" Uchiyama spun around sharply, bloodshot eyes, "You mean, to flee?"

"No!" Kobayashi straightened his back, his combat boots clicking together, "The 13th Division is the Imperial Class A elite; it cannot be lost over a single city's fate! Preserving living forces is the only way to fight again! Wuhan has issued a radio order: if Yichang cannot be held, a breakout toward Dangyang is authorized!"

"Dangyang?" Uchiyama sneered, his voice hoarse like torn silk, "Impossible. I will share the fate of the 13th Division. Tonight, I, Uchiyama Eitaro, will meet my end here."

Uchiyama Eitaro knows that if he retreats, a military tribunal awaits him; only by dying with the 13th Division in Yichang can he preserve the division's final 'honor'.

He bends down, picks up the saber, its tip pointing at his own chest: "The Emperor granted me this blade, not for mere survival, but to sacrifice for the nation!"

Colonel Kobayashi Nobuo remained silent for a moment, then suddenly bowed deeply: "Division commander's loyalty and bravery are admirable. Yet the heroic souls of the 30,000 soldiers of the 13th Division should not be buried with a lone fortress."

Before his words finished, he snapped his gaze upward, giving a highly concealed signal to the two guards at the doorway.

The two were Kobayashi's trusted men, already understanding without words.

They quietly stepped forward, one supporting Uchiyama's left arm, the other his right elbow, their motions respectful yet unresisting.

"What are you… what are you doing?!" Uchiyama roared, struggling, "Let go of me! I am the division commander! I order you, stay! Meet my end!"

"Division commander, please forgive my disobedience," Kobayashi lowered his head, his voice almost choked, "but the 13th Division needs you to return alive."

"Baka yarou!" Uchiyama roared like a trapped beast, twisting desperately, "Let go! I will fight the Chinese forces to the death! This is a warrior's honor!"

Yet the two soldiers, as strong as oxen, lifted him and dragged him toward the basement back door. Uchiyama's combat boots scraped a harsh screech on the cement, his cap fell, white hair scattered, his former authority vanished. While struggling, he turned and glared at Kobayashi: "Kobayashi Nobuo! You have betrayed the Imperial! You have betrayed the Emperor!"

Kobayashi gave no reply, merely picking up the saber from the floor and gently placing it on the table.

Then, he turned to the remaining staff and ordered: "Destroy the Code Book, burn the operation log, bomb the radio! In ten minutes, everyone break out through the North Gate, target: Dangyang!"

The order, once given, also cut the last resolve to resist.

Nevertheless, a portion of soldiers must stay to hold off, otherwise none could escape.

Five minutes later, a group of over ten men slipped out from the Salt Administration's back alley, using the night and ruins for cover, sprinting north.

They merged with hundreds of Japanese soldiers outside the city, advancing together toward Dangyang.

Uchiyama, still being carried, kept cursing, tears mixed with smoke sliding down his cheeks. He stared at the burning city behind him, as if seeing Imperial soldiers wailing amid Chinese artillery fire!

Yao Quanyi could never have imagined that an apparently ordinary Salt Administration would become Yichang's final hard nut.

He originally thought that with Hu Lian's 33rd Regiment encircling, the two forces combined, and with submachine guns and MG42 fire suppression, this blue‑brick little building would collapse like a paper house with a single push.

But when the assault team's first charge was repelled by crossfire and several veterans fell at the courtyard wall, he realized that this was not merely a Salt Administration, but a fortress disguised as an administrative building.

It turned out that since the Japanese occupied Yichang in 1940, they had secretly converted the site into the 13th Division's core command post.

The outer wall was thickened to half a meter and reinforced with steel plates; windows were sealed, leaving only firing ports; the roof bore a Type 92 heavy machine‑gun nest; outside the courtyard, layers upon layers of sandbags formed a circular defensive belt; moreover, a tunnel was dug from the basement straight to the river‑bank dock, allowing command of the whole city when advancing and a quiet retreat when withdrawing.

The garrison left inside was the 56th Division's reserve unit, also composed of Japanese elite troops.

"No wonder Uchiyama fought to the death…" Yao Quanyi gritted his teeth, fury rising in his eyes, "He had already left himself an escape route!"

He immediately adjusted the tactics: "Mortars! Fire!"

Before his words finished, the Independent Regiment artillery squad hoisted 60 mm and 80 mm mortars and rushed up through the broken wall.

They moved with great speed, ranging, adjusting angles, loading shells, all in one seamless flow.