Chapter 353: Old Xu, I Want Meat!

Huyashan, southern slope.

Major General Nanshan Xiuji stood at the entrance of the temporary command post's rock cave, watching the gunfire toward Yichang grow sparser in the distance, his heart feeling like a plunge into an ice cavern.

He clenched the telegram he had just received, a secret order issued by the 13th Division Chief of Staff Kobayashi Nobuo under the title "Acting Division Commander": "Yichang can no longer be held; each unit should turn forward on its own, preserving any surviving forces."

There was no "die for the jade," no "hold to the death," only the cold, icy words "turn forward."

He knew what that meant: the Imperial's defensive line in western Hubei had seen its most crucial town, Yichang, completely collapse.

No one could fathom how Yichang fell within just two days.

"Relay the order!" Nanshan's voice was hoarse but decisive, "Burn all documents! Destroy the radio station! Abandon Transport Vehicles, heavy artillery, ammunition depots! The whole regiment goes light‑armed, move north into the foothills of Da Hong Mountain, turn toward Jingmen!"

When the order was issued, the staff officers stared at each other in bewilderment.

Someone whispered in doubt, "Regiment Commander, we have not received an official retreat order from Wuhan Headquarters; is it permissible to withdraw on our own?"

"Permissible for what?" Nanshan snapped around, bloodshot eyes bristling, "Waiting for A Naganuma's command? Waiting for us to be wrapped up by the Chinese army like dumplings?!"

He knew his situation all too well.

Since yesterday, he had been ordered to reinforce Xiaoting, only to find the Huaxia Army had already taken it.

The order turned into a fight for Huyashan, to block the Huaxia Army's northward advance from Xiaoting and to support the main battle at Yichang. Yet unexpectedly, the Huaxia Army did not play by the usual rules; the opposing Independent Regiment's First Battalion, its first company "Miylong," and the third company "Jiang Yuan" did not launch a strong attack, merely occupying the advantageous terrain of Huyashan.

When the Japanese Army charged, it used MG42 machine guns to block the mountain path, giving the Little Devil no chance.

At night, mortar fire covered the camp, leaving the 17th Regiment unable to rest properly.

Because of the terrain, the 17th Regiment was squeezed into the narrow ancient trail of Xiaoting, with no way out.

What was even scarier was yesterday's air raid.

Nanshan still recalls the sight of twenty‑four Silver Eagle aircraft streaking across the sky.

It was the "Phantom First Battalion" of P‑38 Lightning fighters led by William; after bombing Yichang's dock, they turned and dove straight for Huyashan!

His primary mission was to bomb Yichang; after completing it, he deliberately kept some ammunition to attack this suspicious Japanese unit.

The aircraft cannons roared, bullets pouring down like a storm; machine‑gun fire swept the forest, turning it into a sieve. The 17th Regiment's logistics squad, field hospital, and even part of its supply convoy turned to a sea of fire within ten minutes.

Over eight hundred soldiers fell on their own position without ever seeing the enemy's face.

Afterwards, he repeatedly organized counter‑attacks to open the route to Xiaoting. Each charge was repelled by the Huaxia Army's intersecting fire on Huyashan. The enemy not only had heavy machine guns but also anti‑tank guns! A Type‑94 armored vehicle barely emerged before multiple 37 mm anti‑tank guns flipped it, the crew burned alive inside the iron coffin.

"They are not the Chinese army…" Nanshan once murmured to his adjutant, "They are… demons."

Precisely for that reason, when Yichang sent an urgent call, he dared not dispatch troops to reinforce.

He knew the consequences too well: if the main force returned to Yichang now, the Huyashan defenders would be annihilated; if they held their position, at least the regiment's flame could be preserved.

Caught between attacks from front and rear, the 17th Regiment would be ground into powder on the Xiaoting trail.

Yet last night, he still clung to a sliver of hope, organizing three probing assaults.

Result? All three failed.

The Huaxia Army didn't even employ heavy artillery; with just assault rifles and Hand Grenades, they scattered his suicide squad across the field.

Nanshan Xiuji certainly hadn't misheard; he could even hear the trace of artillery toward Moji Shan across the river, heavy artillery at that, followed by the massive explosion at Yichang's dock.

And this morning, the gunfire from the Yichang direction grew quieter—not a ceasefire, but the silence after battle.

"Yichang… lost." Nanshan closed his eyes, his voice like dead leaves falling.

A tide of unease surged within him.

If Yichang had fallen, Huyashan would become an isolated island. The Huaxia Army could at any moment shift its main force south toward Xiaoting, encircling him to death in this mountain trench.

But without an official retreat order, if he withdrew on his own, the Warfield Manual would deem it a "battlefield escape," disgracing his entire family and barring him from entry into Yasukuni Shrine after death.

Just as he hesitated, a communications soldier stumbled into the cave, "Regiment Commander! Wuhan urgent telegram!"

Nanshan snatched the telegram, his trembling fingers unfolding it; it contained a single line: "Permission granted for the 17th Regiment to turn toward Jingmen; resume combat. A Naganuma."

He exhaled a long breath, nearly collapsing.

A Naganuma, upon learning of Yichang's fall, immediately ordered the 17th Regiment to withdraw; as for the field heavy artillery's 14th Regiment inside Yichang, there was nothing that could be done.

"Move immediately!" he shouted, "The whole regiment splits into three routes, retreat north along the hidden valleys! Discard all heavy equipment! Wounded… bring those who can be carried, leave those who cannot…" He gritted his teeth, "Stay on Huyashan to block enemy pursuit."

With the order given, the Japanese Army, like startled birds, swiftly burned the camp, smashed the artillery, leaving the seriously wounded in makeshift positions, retaining only weapons and part of the ammunition.

These wounded could no longer follow the main force's retreat and had to stay behind to block the Huaxia Army.

Some wept, some knelt and bowed their heads, and many more silently shouldered their rifles, disappearing into the vast Jingmen Mountains.

Nanshan Xiuji was the last to leave.

As a loser, he left the Xiaoting trail.

Xiaoting.

Xu Guozhang finally couldn't hold back, "Damn it, the front is blazing hot, and I'm stuck in Xiaoting drinking the northwest wind."

The entire command and Xu Guozhang had already received the news of Yichang's recapture; Xu Guozhang, from initial doubt to now acceptance, seemed to find everything falling into place.

Because upon seeing what his younger brother presented—air force, weapons, equipment—and the conviction of inevitable victory at Yichang.

"According to the frontline urgent report, the Japanese Army's 13th Division commander Uchiyama Eitaro last night led the remnants out of the North Gate, fleeing toward Dangyang." The command pointed at the map, "Colonel Hu Lian has led a Reinforced Camp in pursuit, and Commander Jiang Anguo personally leads the Guard Company northward. But they are few, the road is long, and total annihilation seems unlikely."

He paused, then said, "Your 150th Division, stationed at Xiaoting, is only thirty li from the Dangyang trail! If you move fast enough, you can set an ambush halfway and cut them off at the waist!"

Xu Guozhang's pupils narrowed; he snatched the map, his finger racing along the Jushui River valley. Indeed! From Yichang to Dangyang, one must pass the "General's Mountain" pass, flanked by high, dense forest—perfect ground for an ambush.

His 150th Division, all born in Sichuan, are accustomed to mountainous forest warfare and have a natural advantage.

"Got it!" he slammed his fist into his palm, fire of long‑forgotten battle spirit lighting his eyes, "Colonel, you're right! I'll set out with the troops at once and tear the head off that turtle‑son of Uchiyama!"

He turned and roared, "Relay the order! 449th Regiment, 450th Regiment, all assemble! Light‑armed rapid march! Target: General's Mountain! Anyone who falls behind, roll back to Sichuan to farm!"

The soldiers of the 150th Division began tightening their leggings, checking weapons. Some sang the Sichuan Army battle song loudly, others silently slipped letters home into their close‑fitting shirt pockets.