Chapter 747: 120,000 vs 400,000

Ai Lunbi said nothing.

He jumped into the trench, crouched, and felt the sandbags. The sandbags still bore press marks, evidence that someone had lain there. He then entered the shelter, where dry straw was spread and a few half‑empty canteens lay. The water in the canteens was still warm.

He stood up and walked out of the shelter.

"Lai Dun, why do you think the Lanfang people are running?"

Lai Dun thought for a moment.

"They're scared, aren't they? With 400,000 pressing forward, who wouldn't be?"

Ai Lunbi shook his head.

"Scared? If they were scared, they wouldn't have stayed in Sinai for three months."

He walked to the edge of the trench and stared at the endless desert beyond.

"Send the order to all units: continue the pursuit. Do not stop."

Lai Dun froze for a moment: "General, could there be a trap?"

Ai Lunbi looked at him.

"A trap? What trap? 400,000 chasing 120,000— even if there is a trap, what could it achieve?"

He leapt onto his warhorse.

"Tell the soldiers that the Lanfang have fled. If we catch them, we can win."

The British Army began the pursuit.

150,000 troops marched east in great numbers. Behind them more units followed, with 250,000 crossing a river and keeping up.

In the desert, clouds of dust rolled, blotting out sky and sun.

February 13, deep within the Sinai Peninsula.

The sun baked the sand until it glowed, and the air was as hot as a steamer. British soldiers formed a long column, trudging laboriously through the desert. The ground beneath was soft sand, each step demanding great effort. Sweat streamed down their cheeks into their eyes, stinging painfully.

Someone began to fall behind.

A young soldier sat on the ground, gasping heavily. A veteran beside him kicked him: "Get up! Even if you can't walk, you must move!"

The young soldier shook his head: "I can't move… I really can't move…"

The veteran looked at him, was silent for three seconds, then extended his hand.

"Get up, I'll pull you."

The young soldier grabbed his hand and struggled to stand.

The two continued forward.

A report came from ahead: "The Lanfang have fled again! We've chased forty kilometers and still haven't caught them!"

A stir broke out in the ranks.

"Again? We've been chasing for two days!"

"Do they perhaps fly?"

"Damn it, two legs chasing four wheels— it's a miracle if we catch up."

A veteran smoked, squinting at the endless desert ahead.

The young soldier beside him asked, "Squad Leader, can we still catch up?"

The veteran exhaled a plume of smoke.

"Even if we can't catch them, we must keep pursuing. The order's been given."

The young soldier lowered his head.

"Then until when must we pursue?"

The veteran was silent for three seconds.

"Pursue until we catch them."

Evening of February 13, British Army temporary command post.

Ai Lunbi stood inside the tent, a map spread before him. On the map, a red arrow stretched eastward, already penetrating two hundred kilometers into the Sinai Peninsula.

Chief of Staff Lai Dun entered, his expression somewhat grim.

"General, the troops are exhausted. Over a thousand more fell behind today. Water is scarce, and the supply line is stretched too far."

Ai Lunbi lifted his head and looked at him.

"What about the Lanfang?"

"They're still fleeing. Recon aircraft report they've withdrawn beyond three hundred kilometers."

Ai Lunbi was silent for a few seconds.

"And their speed?"

"Very fast. Tanks and trucks are far quicker than us. We've chased for two days, they've run for two days, and the Distance hasn't shortened at all."

Ai Lunbi walked to the tent entrance, watching the soldiers outside who were resting.

They sat on the sand; some drank water, some smoked, some leaned on their packs and dozed. No one spoke, no one laughed— they rested in silent stillness.

He suddenly thought of a question.

Why are the Lanfang running?

If they wanted to fight, they could simply stop and engage. They have tanks, trucks, and an advantage. Yet they don't. They just keep running, running, as if luring something.

Luring what?

Luring us to chase.

He turned sharply.

"Lai Dun, send the order to all units: cease the pursuit."

Lai Dun was stunned.

"General? Stop?"

Ai Lunbi nodded.

"Stop. Rest here and wait for the follow‑up troops to catch up."

He walked back to the map and pointed at those red arrows.

"We've been chasing too fast. Supplies can't keep up, and the formation has scattered. If the Lanfang people turn back now—"

His hand swept over those scattered arrows.

"We can't block them."

Lai Dun took a deep breath.

"General, you're wise."

Ai Lunbi shook his head.

"Wise? I just suddenly realized something."

"What is it?"

Ai Lunbi looked at him.

"The Lanfang people aren't running; they're luring. They want us to chase farther and farther, to become more scattered. When we can no longer pursue, they turn back and strike in one bite—"

His hand snapped shut.

"We are the dumpling filling." (The editor doesn't know whether Yingguo guys ate dumplings then, but the Lanfang people want to eat them)

Lai Dun's complexion changed.

"Then what do we do now?"

Ai Lunbi gritted his teeth.

"Wait. Wait for the follow‑up troops to arrive, wait for the supplies to catch up, wait for the formation to recover. Then—"

He paused.

"Continue the chase."

Lai Dun was stunned.

"Continue the chase? General, didn't you say—"

Ai Lunbi cut him off.

"What I meant is, we can't chase like this. If we chase, we must be fully prepared. Supplies, formation, retreat routes—all must be arranged."

He walked to the tent entrance and gazed at the pitch‑black night in the distance.

"Four hundred thousand, chasing twelve hundred thousand. Even if they want to lure, they must have the appetite to swallow it. We just need to be careful and not let them catch us."

In the early morning of February 14, the British Army's cease‑pursuit report reached Zhao Dengyu's command.

Zhao Dengyu was having breakfast—a box of canned food, a few biscuits, a pot of water. Upon hearing Li Tiejun's report, he was momentarily stunned, then smiled.

"Ai Lunbi, that old fox, is awake?"

Li Tiejun nodded.

"Recon drones report the Yingguo people have stopped. They're waiting for follow‑up troops and supplies."

Zhao Dengyu put down the canned food and walked to the map.

He looked at the Distance between those red arrows and those blue arrows—about two hundred kilometers.

"Two hundred kilometers. Ai Lunbi chased for two days, covering three hundred kilometers. Now we stop and wait for supplies."

He turned and looked at Li Tiejun.

"Tell Liu Zhenjie, the 7th Division must speed up. We must reach Ge Na Ye before the Yingguo people resume the chase."

Li Tiejun nodded, "Yes!"

Zhao Dengyu walked back to his seat and continued eating the canned food.

Li Tiejun hesitated a moment and asked, "Division commander, what if the Yingguo people never chase again?"

Zhao Dengyu chewed a biscuit and said vaguely, "It won't happen."

"Why?"

Zhao Dengyu swallowed the biscuit and took a sip of water.

"Because London will pressure him. Over in London, they're eager for victory. Ai Lunbi can wait; London cannot wait."

He stood up and walked to the window.

"Wait then. At most a day, Ai Lunbi will have to continue the chase. Where is the precision over in India placed! Yingguo guys are rallying us!"