Chapter 204 Comrade Xia, on behalf of everyone, I thank you.
Just then, a shell whistled as it crashed into the rocks, sending shards of rock flying and making the tent canvas shake violently.
Xia Qianqian gripped the hemostat tightly, while Dr. Zhang laid out the anesthetic injections in order. Both of them stared at the tent door, ready to rush out and rescue the wounded at any moment.
Gunshots suddenly rang out outside, like beans exploding in a pot.
The enemy launched another beach assault, with rubber boats swarming towards the reef.
But this time was different. Lu Zheng led the elite team like a drawn blade, plunging into the densest part of the enemy ranks.
He rolled to the side to dodge the stray bullet, and then threw a throwing knife that pinned the enemy soldier's wrist!
Lu Zheng's movements were too fast to see clearly; each precise shot took down an enemy.
Peng Fei, wielding a captured Type 96 machine gun, swept across the sea, its flames licking the surface, and enemy soldiers fell like wheat being harvested.
They seized every opportunity to take lives, casually tossing enemy rifles and grenades behind them—these were the most scarce weapons on the small island!
The soldiers nearby were stunned, their mouths agape, forgetting to fire.
Commander Wang roared, his voice hoarse: "Fire support! Seize weapons! Is this how you fight a war?!"
Light and heavy machine guns fired simultaneously, bullets weaving a dense net, providing cover for Lu Zheng and his men as they moved through the enemy ranks.
A young soldier picked up the Type 38 rifle that Lu Zheng threw to him, his hands trembling with excitement: "I have a gun now! I can kill the Japanese devils!"
He picked up his gun and joined the veterans in firing, his face filled with an unprecedented ferocity.
Soon the wounded soldiers were brought over, and Xia Qianqian began to get busy.
She had just finished cleaning the wound of a young soldier who had been shot in the arm when another veteran, clutching his stomach, pushed her in front of her.
The veteran's trousers were still stained with mud and blood. When he saw the penicillin injection in her hand, he suddenly grinned, revealing two rows of bright white teeth covered in blood foam that shone brightly in the dim tent.
"Comrade Xia! Quickly give me an injection!" The old soldier patted his chest, his voice hoarse but with a touch of madness, "Once this medicine is in my stomach, this little pain is nothing! After it's done, I can still carry a gun and charge!"
Xia Qianqian helplessly wrapped the gauze around his wound: "You're injured like this and you're still trying to be brave? Lie down for five minutes before you leave!"
But before she could finish speaking, the old soldier snatched the syringe from her hand, snapped the glass tube in half with a "crack," and injected the medicine into her arm with even greater skill than she had.
The soldiers in the tent all did this: unless they had broken arms or legs and couldn't move, they would pull out the syringe, tuck a grenade into their waistband, and rush out in their slippers.
Xia Qianqian couldn't stop them, so she could only squat down and pick up the bandages they had dropped.
Time flew by in the midst of the busyness, and an hour later, the sounds of gunfire suddenly stopped as if a string had been snapped.
Before the smoke had even cleared, Commander Wang's booming voice pierced through the air: "We won! We drove those bastards back!"
Xia Qianqian lifted the curtain and saw Commander Wang holding a captured machine gun, with soldiers behind him carrying Type 38 rifles and boxes of bullets in their arms. Their faces were covered in dust, but their smiles were brighter than the sun.
A young soldier, fresh from the battlefield, ran up to her, brandishing a brand-new grenade: "Comrade Xia! I picked this up for you! This thing can blow up three Japanese soldiers!"
Xia Qianqian raised her hand to brush away the gunpowder residue from her temples, her laughter ringing out like silver bells against the rocks.
"We've won a battle, so we should celebrate! You guys rest, Lao Hei and I will prepare dinner for everyone!"
Old Hei rubbed his hands together and chuckled, still clutching the sack of flour he had just pulled out of Peach Blossom Spring.
The soldiers who had just been withdrawn from the battlefield had not seen Xia Qianqian before, and had not even heard what she said before they stood there stunned.
The campsite before us looked completely different: the drafty thatched huts had been replaced by sturdy canvas barracks, the straw mats had been replaced by fluffy cotton quilts, the brown sugar water in the enamel mug on the table was steaming, and there were bright yellow oranges and bright red apples next to it. Even the corner was piled with neatly stacked compressed biscuits.
An old soldier carrying a Type 38 rifle suddenly wiped his face, his knuckles rubbing until his eyes were red.
He hadn't shed a tear even when half his ear was blown off on the battlefield, but now, staring at the apples on the table, a hot stone seemed to be stuck in his throat: "Comrades, thank you so much! Thank you for risking your lives to bring us supplies! These apples... we haven't seen fresh fruit for a whole year..."
Xia Qianqian squatted down, picked up an orange and put it in the old soldier's hand, her fingertips touching his chapped palm: "What's this? You are the heroes. You guarded the island, gnawing on your belts and taking shells. You are the most lovable people."
The young soldier next to him, hugging his quilt, suddenly sniffed and buried his face in the fluffy cotton wool—it was the softest quilt he had ever slept under in his life, smelling of sunshine and soap, and warmer than the quilts his mother used to sew.
The sea breeze carried the aroma of food over, and Old Hei called out from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready! I've made fish soup and steamed buns!"
The soldiers stared at the food on the table, swallowed hard, and then looked at Commander Wang in unison, their voices filled with disbelief: "Commander! This...this isn't how life is supposed to end?"
Commander Wang slapped his thigh and laughed heartily, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling into a deep knot. He had been so shocked when he saw Xia Qianqian pull out the flour that his jaw almost dropped, but now it was finally the turn of these youngsters to be dumbfounded.
He waved his hand dismissively: "Pass! Why wouldn't we? Xia said that winning a battle means we have to eat well! Brothers, eat to your heart's content!"
With a loud "whoosh," the soldiers erupted in chaos!
Some people rushed to the table, the sounds of chopsticks clashing and laughter and cursing as they fought over steamed buns mingled together.
If there wasn't enough room at the table, people would squat on the ground, pick up their bowls, and slurp the fish soup, filling the entire camp with its delicious aroma.
A young soldier choked on his steamed bun, his eyes rolling back in his head. An older soldier next to him quickly handed him some brown sugar water, patted him on the back, and laughed, "Eat slowly! Nobody's going to take it from you!"
Someone squatted on the rocks, holding a bowl, looking at the white steamed buns in their hands. Suddenly, their eyes reddened. This was the first time in half a year that they had eaten food that wasn't frozen solid. Commander Wang watched the figure wolfing down the food, secretly wiped the corner of his eye, and turned to give Xia Qianqian a grateful look.
The sea breeze carried the aroma of food, the distant sea calmed down, and the camp lights shone like stars, reflecting the soldiers' satisfied smiles.
Looking at the well-fed soldiers and the wounded who were being well cared for, Commander Wang walked up to Xia Qianqian and said emotionally, "Comrade Xia, although I, Old Wang, don't like to say these empty words, I would like to thank you on behalf of my comrades!"
After observing them all today, although Lu Zheng and the others were all exceptionally capable, he realized that Xia Qianqian was the true mastermind behind them. It seemed that she obtained all the food and supplies they used through some kind of magical means.
The older generation has said that in times of chaos, Taoist priests descend from the mountains to save the world. Aren't those extraordinary people with unique skills before the founding of the People's Republic of China just like that?
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