Because Shuo Yu didn't plan to read any further.

When he came down, Fanla was holding Ayi's red diary in one hand and waving it at him. He smiled and limped over, finding a good spot - a good human cushion to lean on.

I want to hear what their Ayi Chief has learned today. I raise my hand to signal that we can start.

But before Fanla could say anything, the sound of artillery fire was heard outside. They were shaken and the diary in Fanla's hand fell out. Ayi appeared from somewhere, holding his pocket pistol, with a nervous look on his face. Now even he would be prepared at the first moment.

Meng Fanle held a gun with few bullets in his hand, staring at the darkness outside with his small eyes, alert.

Soon, accompanied by a huge and strange noise, huge fireworks were set off before their eyes, and they smelled of gunpowder.

Takeuchi might have been thinking of blowing up the monster tree tonight, so they experienced the most valuable bombardment in their lives.

Small cannons continued to fire, and the big cannons were like free fireworks, disappearing briefly and then coming up one after another.

Their only means of response were four or five Type 92 shells, very few bullets, and a few working guns (this also required the assistance of the entire population to this excellent armorer to help them repair their guns).

Shuoyu and Dayan, along with everyone else, fired the last few shells they had, and then, like everyone else, waited for the Japs to charge again.

Either the Japanese killed them, or they killed the Japanese. There are only two possible results. There is nothing surprising about it.

Outside the tree fort, the atmosphere was bustling as if it was New Year's Eve, with mountains collapsing and the earth cracking, but it really had nothing to do with them.

The thirty-eight guys who were left huddled together behind the sandbags, waiting for a small Japanese soldier, or an entire Japanese regiment, to emerge from the darkness.

It was just that the night was so quiet, so quiet that even Shuoyu could hear his own heartbeat. Boom! Boom! Boom! He touched the beating thing on his chest with his hand, feeling the throbbing thing in his chest.

He thought he had really found his answer, so even if there were ten thousand Japanese devils hiding outside who wanted to rush in and kill them, he was not afraid of them.

He reached out and took off the cloth that had covered his face for more than twenty days, breathing deeply, taking every breath as if it were his last, breathing in and out completely.

He was still holding a British sniper rifle with only one bullet left in his hand. He looked at Zhang Lixian who was leaning on Fanla in front of him and shook the thing in his hand.

Whispering,

"Look, you gave this to me!"

"You son of a bitch, you clearly snatched it from me!"

Zhang Lixian’s words really made him want to laugh. Since he couldn’t cry, he laughed hard, just like the last time.

On the 37th night of defending Nantianmen, no Japanese soldiers attacked their position and everything was so quiet.