Nearly half an hour after Leitao returned to the blocking position to lie in ambush, the surrounding mountain forest remained silent, broken only by the occasional gust of wind and the low humming of nocturnal insects. Leitao lay flat in his carefully camouflaged position, his body blending seamlessly into his surroundings. His eyes were fixed on the path ahead, his mind sharply focused, and his hands gripped his rifle tightly, ready for whatever might happen.
Suddenly, he spotted a squad of men in the distance searching their way toward him with torches and flashlights. The flickering firelight was painfully glaring in the darkness, like a band of demons closing in. Leitao's heart tightened instantly. He knew this was the Japanese Army search party he had been waiting for.
As the Japanese Army drew closer, Leitao could clearly see roughly half a company of Japanese troops sweeping forward in a skirmish line, searching toward Toutuo Ridge Fork Pass. They held torches and flashlights whose flames and beams flickered against the night sky, illuminating the surrounding woods. From his vantage point, Leitao watched the soldiers spread out, stepping forward with utmost caution. Though deliberate, their advance carried a suffocating sense of pressure.
In the glow of the torchlight, the figures of the Japanese soldiers flickered in and out of sight among the mountain trees. Some held rifles, scanning their surroundings vigilantly; others carried torches, lighting the way ahead. Their formation appeared loose, but in truth, they coordinated tightly, ready to react instantly at the slightest anomaly.
A mix of sounds now intertwined, shattering the quiet of the night. The footsteps of the Japanese soldiers echoed through the woods—a dull, rhythmic cadence that sounded like the beat of Death's own drum. Their leather boots crunched on fallen leaves and dead twigs, a sound that chilled the blood with every step. Occasional metallic clinks echoed out as rifles and gear rubbed together.
Just then, the traitor captain sidled up to the Japanese squad leader with a sycophantic grin, stooping low. "Your Excellency, look—this mountain right here is Zijin Mountain. Go right past the fork at the pass up ahead, and that leads straight to Toutuo Ridge. Heh heh, rest assured, Your Excellency, with us around, those bastards definitely won't get away." As he spoke, the traitor captain pointed down the path, his eyes constantly darting back and forth to gauge the Japanese officer's reaction.
The Japanese squad leader was short but wire-lean, sporting a small mustache and narrow, sharp eyes that seemed capable of seeing through anything. His cap was pulled low over his forehead, and a faint scar ran across his face, adding a touch of ferocity to his demeanor.
He tilted his chin up slightly, a flicker of arrogance in his eyes. Then, with a white-gloved hand, he lightly patted the sword at his hip, as if reminding everyone of his authority. "Are you certain that way leads to Toutuo Ridge?" he asked in a low, raspy voice.
The traitor captain bowed and scraped hurriedly. "Your Excellency, I am certain! I know these parts like the back of my hand. Bearing right at this fork definitely goes to Toutuo Ridge. Think about it, Your Excellency—if those men are hiding on Toutuo Ridge, with a force as large as ours, we're bound to drag them out. When that happens, you'll win immense glory!"
The Japanese squad leader knitted his brows. "Hmph. If we don't find anyone, you know the consequences."
The traitor captain shuddered in fear. "Rest assured, Your Excellency! Rest assured! We will do everything in our power. Look, we've searched carefully all the way here; those people can't have fled far. Once we reach Toutuo Ridge, we'll definitely flush them out."
Watching the Japanese Army and traitors draw nearer, Leitao felt an uncontrollable surge of tension. This was the first time in his life he was ambushing such a large force of enemy troops and traitors. Even in his past life, when he served in China's special forces conducting solo infiltration and reconnaissance on violent terrorist strongholds, he had never been this anxious. Back then, he had a powerful national military backing him up; no matter the danger, he knew he wasn't fighting alone. But this time, he had virtually no support. As for the surviving remnants of the Central Army, they had their own mission—and besides, they needed a victory to boost their morale; he couldn't let them throw away their lives trying to reinforce him.
His palms sweated slightly, and his heart pounded out of control. He knew full well how much hinged on the outcome of this battle—it was not just a matter of his own survival, but was bound to the safety of his comrades at the artillery position and the surviving soldiers. At the same time, it directly affected whether tomorrow's plan to shell the Japanese Army's entry ceremony could go forward. If he failed, the consequences would be catastrophic, and his compatriots suffering in agony would continue to endure the brutal rule of the Japanese Army. At this thought, Leitao felt a crushing weight of responsibility on his shoulders.
Taking a deep breath, he fought to calm himself. Memories flashed through his mind of his countrymen suffering in the fires of war—their helpless eyes and agonized expressions filled him with a fierce sense of duty. He could not back down; he could not allow these people to go on living in utter misery.
Yet just as his anxiety crested, the core sixteen-character tactical principles used by the Eighth Route Army against the Japanese flashed in his head: "When the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy camps, we harass; when the enemy tires, we attack; when the enemy retreats, we pursue." These sixteen words were like a cool spring, instantly quenching the flames of panic inside him. He began to calmly analyze the situation, contemplating how to apply these principles to the impending fight.
Leitao carefully observed the movements of the Japanese Army. Though numerous, they were navigating complex terrain in this mountain forest, which limited their mobility. He could exploit the terrain to employ guerrilla tactics, harassing the Japanese Army incessantly until they were exhausted. When they exposed a weakness, he would strike a decisive, fatal blow.
A sense of calm settled over Leitao, his gaze hardening with resolve. He knew that as long as he stayed cool-headed and adapted his tactics flexibly, he had a chance to defeat the enemy. Gripping his rifle tightly, he waited for the ideal moment.
The Japanese squad leader narrowed his eyes, scrutinized the fork ahead once more, and then waved his hand to order his men forward.
The traitor captain snapped upright and yelled at the collaborators behind him, "Snap to it, all of you! Stay close to the officers! Anyone who helps find those bastards gets a massive reward—and anyone who slacks off, I'll turn him into a human torch!" The traitor captain's face contorted maliciously, his eyes glinting with ferocity. Frightened by his threat, the puppets straightened up and followed the column with even greater caution.
The night remained deep and dark. In this silent mountain forest, a fierce battle was on the verge of erupting. And Leitao waited quietly, ready to deal the Japanese Army a heavy blow.