Chapter 4

The Japanese 6th Division, 18th Division, 114th Division, and 9th Brigade, totaling over 100,000 troops, have landed along the Jiaxing Bay and Jinshanwei line, under the cover of 155 warships. Their objective is clear: to seize Songjiang, then move north to cut off the Shanghai-Nanjing railway, and completely encircle the Shanghai garrison. This is the Japanese army's final and fatal blow to the already precarious Shanghai battlefield. Shanghai is in grave danger!

The right-wing commander of the Songhu battlefield, Zhang Fakui, issued the latest order to the 67th Army: "The enemy has landed at Jinshanwei today and is advancing towards Songjiang. The 67th Army is ordered to proceed to Songjiang with light equipment and strike the enemy hard to ensure the safety of our right flank in Shanghai." This was the last order the 67th Army received in its history.

Given the urgent situation, the 67th Army headquarters convened an emergency military meeting in Qingpu at night. The 107th Division was on its way to Songjiang, while the 108th Division had not yet arrived in Qingpu. The Japanese landing was complete, and they were definitely advancing north towards Songjiang. Songjiang is a small county with no walls, no natural defenses, and a flat surrounding area. The only hope was to resist the enemy in the Huangpu River network area south of Songjiang. The final decision was to set up the headquarters in Qingpu, with the deputy commander staying behind, while the commander would lead the staff to establish a front-line command post in Songjiang. The 107th Division was ordered to head to the southern outskirts of Songjiang and deploy along the Huangpu River to delay the enemy, and the 108th Division was to follow and defend the city. The orders were immediately issued.

It was late at night, with intermittent drizzle. The troops, dressed in gray, were advancing through the crisscrossing waterways, dark and unpredictable rice fields, and muddy, cold rain. Explosions in the east began to become more noticeable, like the flashbulbs of a news scene, casting pale and crimson light on the clouds, making the low, dark clouds look like a monstrous creature in a storm, fierce and decaying. No torches were needed; the road could be seen by the intermittent reflection of the dark clouds. Qingpu had already been passed, but the troops did not stop; instead, they sped up, with the order to head to Songjiang.

Raindrops slowly slid down the curled brim of the cap, over the dark eyebrows, and merged with sweat on the chiseled face. The soaked uniform had turned dark gray, clinging to the skin, forming smooth horizontal wrinkles. The Zhongzheng rifle was slung over his back, occasionally hitting the leather belt, and the puttees were covered in mud, almost like boots, forcing Hu Yi to wade through any water channel he found to shake off the mud.

As they marched, the sound of flowing water came from the roadside. Hu Yi followed the sound and ran out of the formation. Before departure, Wang Laokou had given Hu Yi the Zhongzheng rifle, along with a leather belt and an old canteen. The canteen was empty, and under the night sky, he could only make out a small stream. Without caring whether the water was clear or muddy, he removed the canteen and filled it, then splashed his face with the cold stream water, feeling much more refreshed.

Standing by the stream, he took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and looked back. The winding formation flowed like a stream into the dark distance, perfectly blending into the rainy night. In a moment of light, Hu Yi suddenly noticed a particularly small and weak figure in the rear, out of place among the others, drawing his attention. Hu Yi quickly returned to the route and stood there waiting until the small figure approached.

"Stop!"

Startled by the low shout, the figure carefully identified the person blocking him and smiled with bared teeth.

Hu Yi knew this battle would not be easy from the endless stream of defeated soldiers on the Shanghai-Nanjing line. Before departure, Hu Yi and Wang Laokou had discussed and decided not to bring the boy, leaving him at Anting Station, telling him to rejoin the unit if it returned in a few days, or to find another way to survive if it did not. But the boy had secretly followed them.

Facing the boy's innocent smile, Hu Yi's stern face showed no emotion. He kicked the boy, sending him sprawling in the mud. "Get lost!"

The boy was stunned. What was wrong with Brother Hu? He sat in the mud, not moving or speaking.

"Get lost now!" Hu Yi said again.

"I won't be a deserter, I want to return to the 3rd Platoon."

This almost made Hu Yi laugh. His tone softened slightly. "You're not a soldier. It's fine to bring you around normally, but now we're going to the battlefield, to risk our lives. Do you understand?"

"If you can go, why can't I? Even if I become a beggar, I'll still starve to death. There are beggars everywhere, and who gets food? Since we're all going to die, why can't I die in the 3rd Platoon?"

Looking at the small, stubborn figure covered in mud, hearing words that didn't seem to come from a 14-year-old, Hu Yi felt a mix of sorrow and helplessness. One standing, one sitting, one big, one small, the two figures in the rainy night stood like statues, staring at each other for a long time...

Wang Laokou was out of breath from running. Seeing a dark tree standing alone by the road, he sat down at its base, leaning against the trunk to catch his breath, looking back at the formation. Where was that Hu Yi? He was just behind me a moment ago, but now he's gone. Even I can keep up, how could he fall behind? He must have deserted in the dark. Damn, it's better for him to run, to live is a blessing. Looking at the dark, wet surroundings, Wang Laokou felt uncomfortable. This is not a good place to die. I'd rather be buried in a sunny hill in my hometown than die in this damp, miserable place. He spat, "Pfft, pfft, pfft! What am I thinking? Bad luck, bad luck."

After stopping for a while, the sweat dried, and the cold air immediately penetrated the wet uniform, making him shiver. He quickly stood up, tidied himself, and rejoined the formation. The numb figures moved mechanically, occasionally stumbling and falling in the mud before getting up again. Wang Laokou quickened his pace to catch up with the 3rd Platoon. He inadvertently ran behind a small figure, recognizing the silhouette. Could it be that gluttonous boy? He quickened his pace, reached out, and patted the small figure's shoulder.

"Ah, Mother!" The boy, following Hu Yi, felt a withered hand on his shoulder in the dark and was terrified, falling to the mud. Looking back, he saw: "Platoon leader!"

Hu Yi heard the boy's strange cry and turned around. It was indeed Platoon Leader Wang Laokou.

"Oh, Hu! I thought you... cough, you glutton, why did you follow us? Are you really stupid or just heartless?"

Hu Yi pulled the boy up, readjusted his sleeves, and said to Wang Laokou, "This boy doesn't want to be a deserter, and I can't get rid of him."

Wang Laokou sighed, "Boy, your life is your own. You decide."

Hu Yi, Wang Laokou, and the boy slowly caught up with the end of the 3rd Platoon and returned to their position. The five figures merged back into the background of hundreds of others, forming a gray, surging river, flowing through the mud, over fields and ditches, towards the Huangpu River in a foreign land.

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