Chapter 357: Gunshots in the Forest

June 1 1942, Jingmen Mountains, summer.

The scorching sun blazed like fire.

Moist, hot mist rose on the mountain path, the vegetation was lush, yet it could not conceal the smell of gunpowder and blood.

Zhuge Mingliang curled up behind a blue stone, covered in mud; he no longer knew how long he had been running, nor could he tell where he was.

He could only follow the source of the gunfire, heading that way, hoping to find a large force there.

Zhuge Mingliang's heart still could not settle; at that time he had only a mirror and a "Heavenly Fire", and he eliminated so many Little Devils.

The Japanese Army's 116th Regiment, under the relentless bombing of P‑38 Lightning fighters, was almost completely wiped out. Zhuge Liang's order also avenged the family grudge!

The night Dangyang fell, the Little Devils burned his house, killed his parents, and violated his sister…

He even killed a Little Devil with his own hands; looking at the Devil's desperate eyes, he felt no fear at all.

But this morning, the gunfire suddenly stopped.

The world fell into dead silence; even the birds were mute.

He was lost, starving, sitting by the creek gnawing on a biscuit, yet his mind was filled with the scent of that day's Little Devil corpses charred by wildfire, the mingled smell of blood, grease and "meat aroma" churning his stomach.

Looking at the biscuit in his hand, he no longer felt like eating it.

At that moment.

"Baka!"

"Quick! The Regiment Commander cannot stop!"

Japanese voices came from the forest ahead!

Zhuge Mingliang's whole body went rigid. He understood Japanese, which is why he could serve as a "traitor" in the Japanese army, and thus he could comprehend what they were saying.

That voice… was an officer!

He held his breath and peeked quietly.

A few dozen meters away, a group of Japanese Army soldiers were swarming around two people, moving quickly.

One man, though somewhat disheveled and with a face blackened with ash, wore conspicuous shoulder insignia; the other supported him, constantly looking back with a frantic expression.

"Nei Shan Yingtailang… Little Devil's Regiment Commander," Zhuge Mingliang's heart pounded like a drum.

Logically, Zhuge Mingliang shouldn't know Nei Shan Yingtailang; after all, it was during the Japanese attack on Dangyang that the 13th Division's Nei Shan Yingtailang had shown his face, and Zhuge Mingliang remembered that face.

Zhuge Mingliang hid behind a large stone.

But he was alone, with two rifles and about a hundred rounds.

The enemy, at least a hundred men, were equipped with machine guns and Grenade Launchers.

"Run?" he thought.

Yet recalling his parents' dying gazes and his sister's cries, his legs went weak.

It wasn't fear; it was hatred that made him tremble.

He slowly set down his backpack and inspected the two Type 38 rifles:

The actions were smooth, rounds chambered, bayonet still attached.

He took a deep breath, braced one of them in a rock crevice, aligning the sights with Nei Shan's back.

His hand shook violently.

Cold sweat ran into his eyes, burning painfully.

He knew that if this shot missed, he would surely die; but if it hit… perhaps history could be rewritten.

"Heaven…" he whispered with his eyes closed, "let me… avenge the wronged souls of Dangyang."

When he opened his eyes again, there was no fear, only resolve.

Bang!

The gunshot ripped the forest's silence.

The bullet whooshed out, but missed by about an inch due to his shaking hand.

Puff!

It struck an old pine beside Nei Shan; the bark burst, scattering wood chips.

"Enemy attack!!!" Xiao Lin Xinnan roared, lunging to knock Nei Shan down.

The Japanese Army reacted swiftly, scattering in an instant, setting up machine guns, and bullets rained down on Zhuge's hiding spot.

Clack clack clack—!

The rocks splintered, sparks flying, debris hurling. Zhuge Mingliang rolled into the ditch, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

He knew he had exposed himself and that he would not survive beyond today.

But he smiled.

Because he saw Nei Shan Yingtailang being carried by guards, fleeing in disarray, no longer bearing any of the Imperial General's dignity.

When Nei Shan Yingtailang was in Yichang, he thought of a desperate apology; the moment he fled Yichang, he abandoned that notion, wanting only to return to Dangyang, regroup, and avenge the arrow's grievance.

And Xiao Lin Xinnan, while commanding a counterattack, shouted, "Protect the Regiment Commander! Hurry!"

Zhuge Mingliang quickly changed position, peeking the barrel from behind rocks on the other side.

He no longer aimed at Nei Shan, but at a Little Devil setting up a Type 92 heavy machine gun.

Bang!

The second shot hit precisely at the brow.

The Little Devil fell face up, the machine gun sputtering.

"He's over there!" the Japanese Army shifted fire.

Zhuge Mingliang rolled and crawled, slipping into the dense forest.

He knew he couldn't hold back the whole unit, but even a minute's delay would let the Huaxia army pursuing from behind see!

Zhuge Mingliang is betting that there are Huaxia troops behind the Little Devil (Japanese soldier).

He reloads while fleeing, firing the Tertiary and Quaternary shots in succession, targeting officers and signal troops.

The senior's luck was not bestowed upon him again; the bullets vanished without a trace.

But it doesn't matter; each gunshot makes the Little Devil (Japanese soldier) extremely frightened.

Xiao Lin Xinnan roared loudly, "Baka, there's only one person on the other side, charge!"

He had already heard that the opponent was a single person, yet Xiao Lin Xinnan still thought he was surrounded.

Zhuge Mingliang's bet was correct; behind that group of Japanese Army there truly were pursuing Huaxia troops, and they were not few.

At this moment, on a ridge five li away, Jiang Anguo abruptly halted his advance.

"Listen! Gunfire!" a flash of light lit his eyes, "Someone is ambushing Nei Shan!"

"It must be Nei Shan," Jiang Anguo said with absolute certainty; honestly, for a moment he even thought the old Little Devil might escape.

They originally captured Watanabe Masao because he was knocked unconscious by artillery; yet Nei Shan could still move, the key being how fast that ragtag group ran.

Hu Lian also came to Jiang Anguo's side, "The direction is slightly east, it's the Jingmen Yu vein!"

"Accelerate! That person won't hold out long!" Jiang Anguo drew his MP40, "Full speed ahead!"

The morale‑high Independent Regiment and the 11th Division officers and soldiers, upon hearing that the Little Devil regiment commander was ahead, felt as if they had wind‑fire wheels under their feet.

A dense forest to the southeast.

Xu Guozhang, leading the 449th Regiment, was also pursuing the Little Devil, "Damn it, where the hell did this Little Devil run, why can't we find him!"

The Regiment Commander of the 449th Regiment, Lu Zongjing, twitched his ear, perhaps the senior officer's loud voice affected something.

He listened carefully again, then asked the person beside him, "Did you hear the gunfire?"

"Regiment Commander, it does seem there is gunfire," the companion said.

Xu Guozhang also stretched his neck long, straining to listen, "What? How come I didn't hear it."

Bang.

Another gunshot rang.

"Quick, charge, the Little Devil is right ahead, follow the gunfire, chase fast," this time Xu Guozhang heard clearly—it was the gunfire.

It was still that crisp sound of a Type‑38.

Three pursuing groups of soldiers finally located the 13th Division of the Japanese Army.

In the forest, Zhuge Mingliang had been hit by a bullet.

His left shoulder bled profusely, yet he gritted his teeth and loaded another bullet.

He leaned against a tree trunk, gazing toward the Japanese Army's retreating direction, his breathing like a bellows.

"Little Devil… you can't escape…" he coughed bloodily, laughing, "Huaxia's mountains do not nurture devils."

In the distance, the faint sound of horse hooves drifted.

He slowly closed his eyes, the Type‑38 slipping from his hand.