Chapter 385: Jingzhou Righteous People

The gunfire finally stopped.

The last scattered rifle shots faded away in the alleys at the east of the city, and the whole ancient city fell into an almost sacred silence.

The smoke rose slowly, mingling with the summer breeze, brushing the broken walls and ruins, and also brushing the streets full of corpses.

Xiao Si hurried through the rubble, came to Jiang Anguo's rear, and said in a low yet clear voice: "Young Master, the commander of the 39th Division of the Japanese Army, Sasaki Toichi, has been captured alive and is held in a temporary POW camp. The chief of staff Zhuan Tian Shengshou… at the North Gate command post made a stubborn resistance and was killed by the 448th Regiment."

Jiang Anguo gave a slight nod, without saying a word.

He walked slowly toward the North Gate.

There, the place where the civilians leapt down from the city wall.

On the bluestone slabs, the bloodstains had not yet dried, dark red as ink.

Hundreds of civilian corpses lay side by side on the ground, some white‑haired elders, some infants in swaddling cloths, all killed by the Japanese Army's pursuit, the civilians who jumped from the wall.

In the clash of the two armies, the Little Devil used the most despicable tactics, trying to make the Huaxia army halt its advance, to buy themselves a chance to escape.

However, the heroic sons and daughters of Huaxia used this method to tell the invaders that the Chinese are a nation with blood and spirit.

Better to die to prove one's resolve.

Jiang Anguo crouched down and gently closed the eyes of an elderly woman. Her hand still clutched a half piece of wheat cake, perhaps the last morsel left for her grandson.

He continued forward, finally stopping before the corpse with a two‑inch beard.

The old man's face was calm, as if he were merely asleep.

"Does this old man… know his surname?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Xiao Si answered softly: "His surname is Guan, his name is Guan Yong."

"Guan Yong…" Jiang Anguo repeated, looking up at the broken eaves of Jingzhou's city tower.

The afterglow of the setting sun fell on his face, revealing a hint of moisture in his eyes, "What a good name. The brave fear nothing, righteousness soars to the heavens, living up to the name!"

He stood up, straightened his cap, and performed a solemn military salute to Guan Yong's corpse.

"A proper burial," he ordered, his tone unquestionable, "Find a fine coffin, and find a good place to bury all the civilians. Erect a monument 'Jingzhou Righteous People's Tomb', and be sure to learn the names of these civilians. In the future, any of our Huaxia soldiers passing here shall stop to pay respects."

"Yes!" Xiao Si replied solemnly.

In the distance, soldiers of the 11th Division were carrying stretchers to transport the wounded, while Sichuan Army comrades distributed dry rations to the surviving civilians.

Someone knelt and wept bitterly, someone silently burned incense, and more people gazed at the Blue Sky White Sun flag rising on the city walls, murmuring: "We are home… we really are home…"

Cleaning up after the war, of course, does not require Jiang Anguo to step forward.

First is to post a proclamation to reassure the people, letting the citizens of Jingzhou know that the Huaxia army has returned.

Then comes the clearing of the city's small fish and shrimp, as well as the two Little Devils, that is, the traitors.

As for the Little Devil's weapons and gear, everything on their bodies is confiscated.

How many prisoners have been captured, all this must wait for later statistics to know.

But from Jiang Anguo's observation, this time the POWs will not be fewer than two thousand.

The iron gate swung open with a "clang".

Jiang Anguo strode in, his leather boots striking the ground.

Behind him followed Xiao Si, holding a blood‑stained order in his hands, which had been retrieved from Zhuan Tian Shengshou's corpse, recording all the commands to forcibly conscript civilians onto the city walls.

The signature belonged to Sasaki Toichi.

"Sasaki Toichi!" Jiang Anguo's voice was like a blade drawn, "Your Little Devil's 'Bushido Spirit' is to threaten us with the lives of Chinese civilians? Pushing elders and women onto the city walls as shields, is that the 'Yamato Spirit' you pride yourselves on?"

Sasaki slowly opened his eyes, his gaze cold as ice.

He stood up, even slightly adjusting his collar, and answered in stiff yet clear Chinese: "I request that your army treat the POWs preferentially according to the Geneva Convention."

"Geneva Convention?" Jiang Anguo sneered, stepping closer, "Do you deserve to utter those four characters? You must have forgotten, you never signed that treaty, so you are not entitled to preferential treatment, and I can tell you, in this battle I will not keep any prisoners."

He slammed the blood‑stained diary onto Sasaki's feet: "Look! This is what you found on your chief of staff, and it even bears your own handwriting: 'Using Chinese civilians as shields can block the enemy's offensive.' You not only violate the laws of war, you also trample the bottom line of humanity!"

Sasaki glanced down, expressionless: "War is hell. For the Imperial's survival, any means are permissible."

"Nonsense!" Jiang Anguo shouted angrily, fist clenched, "You are not fighting a war, you are committing crimes! The old man shouted 'Long live the nation' when he leapt from the wall, and you only deserve to kneel on the pillar of historical shame!"

The barracks fell into dead silence.

The guard soldiers gritted their teeth; if not for orders, they would have already pounced.

Sasaki remained silent for a long while, finally speaking, his voice low: "The victor becomes king, the defeated become bandits. I have nothing to say. But as a POW, I have the right to demand basic humane treatment."

Jiang Anguo took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his fury.

He knew that at this moment, if he acted, he could kill Sasaki Toichi, which would be too easy for this Little Devil.

True victory is not venting anger, but judgment.

"You will receive 'treatment', " he said coldly, "but not preferential treatment, it is an interrogation. Your crimes will be adjudicated by a military tribunal. Including using civilians as shields, massacring civilians, torturing POWs… none will be omitted."

He turned to leave, then stopped, and turned back word for word: "The Geneva Convention protects soldiers, not butchers. And you, Sasaki Toichi, are unfit to be called a soldier."

"Bageyalu!" Sasaki Toichi heard the most insulting words to his dignity in his life.

The iron gate slammed shut heavily.

Sasaki stood in place, his complexion finally turning pale.

The open training ground north of Jingzhou city was already a sea of people.

Men, women, young and old, all came to watch the spectacle.

Someone carried a bamboo basket filled with coarse grain biscuits, someone else held a child on tiptoe, peering.

More people simply clenched their fists, their eyes burning with four years of accumulated hatred and the light finally seen today.

"Here they come! Here they come!" the crowd roared.

Within the temporary POW area fenced by iron railings, 3,671 Japanese Army prisoners stood in line, heads down, hands hanging.

They wore handcuffs on their hands, no longer the arrogance of former days.

Some had vacant stares, some trembled, even their gait was hunched, looking as fresh as frost‑bitten eggplants.

"You turtle son! Weren't you always so defiant before?" an old farmer spat, his voice choked, "My son was dragged by you to build an airfield and died of exhaustion!"

"Look! This is a Little Devil!" a boy beside pointed at a Lieutenant Colonel, "Yesterday he forced my mother to kneel with a Bayonet, today he doesn't even dare lift his head!"

The townsfolk murmured, both satisfied and puzzled: "Why did they suddenly become so obedient? Could it be that they were scared dumb?"

No one answered.

It's not that they became good; it's our fists that are finally harder than their Bayonets!

This is the single battle since the War of Resistance in which the Huaxia Army captured the most Japanese Army troops.

3,671 people!

An entire regiment's strength, all captured.

No "jade shattered", no "gut cut open", only silent surrender.