When the smoke and dust cleared, raindrops began to fall. The rain was really heavy, soaking Meng Fanle like a plucked chicken. After all the sounds disappeared, he hurried over and dug in the tree pit. Black mud clung to his hands and face, but there was nothing. He walked on all fours and looked towards the cliff not far away, wanting to see where he had gone.
Where did it go? Why is there nothing left?
Fanla just stared at it but saw nothing. There was nothing but the tumbling Nujiang River and the gravel in the shallows.
From that dusk when the sun was out and it was raining heavily, until the early morning of the next day when it started snowing, all the people in the cannon fodder group went crazy, fighting for the body of a dead old man who would not be a big deal if he was not there.
The snow started to fall in the second half of the night, but it melted as soon as it reached the ground, and nothing could be found.
The artillery fire from the opposite bank exploded on the Flag Sacrifice Hill. Si La Si La held a shell box in his hand and shouted "Clauber". This battle was the most intense battle they had fought with the opposite bank since they went up to the Flag Sacrifice Hill.
The machine gun group, grenade launcher group, and mountain artillery group completely ignored the limited weapons reserves of the cannon fodder group. Everyone was crazy, so much so that Yu Xiaoqing, who was also crazy about Nantianmen on Henglan Mountain, sent them a truck of ammunition.
A mountain cannon and a few small cannons were their only weapons to find the other side of the river. Klauber was busy like a spinning top.
Meng Fanle was busy lying on the trench and using a monocular telescope to look at the location where the shell had just been fired. The ground shook, and earth and rocks splashed. The final location was determined to be a Type 92 infantry artillery group in two directions.
Milong's light machine gun couldn't hit anything. Meng Fanle did what he could. The rest of the guys gathered around their commander's guns and watched the busy work.
He said, we don’t have this hand to shake now.
Meng Fanle was annoyed by the snowflakes falling from the sky. When the big, soft snowflakes landed on his hands, there was nothing left. Milong leaned against him, wanting to hold his hand and ask him to shut up, but he took his hand back in less than ten seconds because he couldn't bear it anymore.
In such an exciting battle at Jieqipo, there was only one place that was unusually quiet, as if the flying shells and bullets had nothing to do with them. No one wanted to come here, and everyone subconsciously avoided it.
The cave was filled with simple food and scattered things. On the only bed there lay a man who had been unconscious for three days and three nights but still couldn't wake up. Dashan squatted beside his bed and firmly believed that her master was just asleep and would teach her to recite poems again after waking up.
She knew what all that was happening outside was all about. The old man who was always kind to her and wanted to give her candy was dead, killed by the Japanese artillery shells.
Everything that happened outside now was because of this. She had heard the master call the old man "Dad", but the master said that was not his dad. She had hoped that the master would wake up before, but now she thought it would be good if the master didn't know the news.
Dashan held the chubby Maodou in his arms, combing the cat's fluffy gray hair, silently watching a tear slowly fall from the corner of his master's eye lying on the bed, but it seemed to be just her illusion. In the blink of an eye, the tear disappeared like the snowflakes outside.
She rubbed her eyes, trying to see more clearly, and saw that the pair of dark eyes had opened again, but why now?
Outside their cave, the sound of cannons continued to roar, as if it would never stop.
The first thing Shuoyu saw when he opened his eyes was the two small green eyes held in Dashan's arms. He sat up and blinked. He seemed to hear the annoying howling of Milong. When he cried, it was as unpleasant as his Errenzhuan singing. So he woke up and wanted to ask that guy to stop singing.
But when I opened my eyes, I felt a little dazed. I didn't know where I was. Was there a war going on outside? With whom? On Henglan Mountain, or on the other side?
Shuo Yu felt dizzy when he stood up. He lost his balance and almost fell down again. Fortunately, Dashan next to him supported him in time and prevented him from lying down again.
"What's going on outside?"
"There's a war going on, Master."
"Who are you fighting?"
"On the other side, the Japs."
"oh."
Shuoyu felt that he needed to go out and take a look. Although he could not help much now, he still wanted to go out and take a look. Dashan followed him and watched his master limp out using the sword he had always carried on his back as a crutch.
When he went out, the snow had stopped and the ground was wet and gloomy, leaving footprints of varying depths when he stepped on it.
Judging from the sound, the enemy had stopped firing long ago, but they hadn't yet. The sound of artillery shells was still ringing. He saw many people sitting dejectedly, or squatting in the anti-artillery holes, looking at him with their eyes.
He wanted to ask how long he had been unconscious, but seeing her expression all the way there always seemed a little strange. He asked Dashan, but Dashan just said she didn't know. But she really wasn't a child who was very good at lying.
Shuo Yu just sighed and wanted to find a familiar face. He wanted to ask them what happened here and what happened when he fainted.
For some reason, a lot of images suddenly appeared in his mind. The dead looks of Li Wula, Yao Ma, Kang Ya, Doubing, Shepig, Da Huzi... appeared in front of him, but he could say with certainty that these bastards were not dead. He saved them, every one of them!
My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It will be even more exciting later!
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