Chapter Fifteen: After the Battle, Shocking News!

Hoo...
The wind swept by, carrying with it a choking stench of gunpowder.
On the position at Zhonghua Gate, all the surviving soldiers stood dazed in the trenches, staring out over the battlefield. Only after a long moment did they come to their senses, each face breaking into an expression of wild joy as they cheered, "We won! We won!"
"We drove off the Japanese! We survived!"
Many were weeping tears of joy, embracing the comrades beside them in excitement, their faces streaked with tears and snot, laughing and crying at once.
Even now, some could scarcely believe it—they had actually survived! They had thought for certain that this time there was no escape, but who could have guessed that, at the final hour, reinforcements would arrive!
They were alive! The position was held!
Chen Qingzhi let out a long breath, tossing his bayonet to the ground, collapsing wearily into the trench, and gasping for air.
Though he was agile and more than a match for most, and had only suffered some light wounds in the close combat, the sheer intensity of the hand-to-hand fighting had left him utterly spent.
In truth, Chen Qingzhi had reached the end of his strength!
Had the reinforcements not arrived when they did, even he could not have held out much longer!
Meanwhile, the reinforcements, after pursuing the Japanese for some distance, returned to the position. Only then did they see clearly the scene before them, and dozens of them gasped in shock at the sight.
"Hss..."
"What a brutal battle this must have been!" the leading officer murmured, his face stricken with awe.
What lay before them was simply horrific.
The entire position had been all but shattered by the enemy; the trenches were littered with the broken bodies of both sides. Every cartridge had been spent, not a single grenade remained. Each fallen soldier bore multiple wounds upon his body.
Countless corpses were torn apart, severed limbs scattered everywhere, blood soaking the ground, staining it a deep, dark red. In places, the blood had even pooled into small crimson puddles.
Many, even in death, still clenched the flesh of the enemy between their teeth, refusing to let go.

Some of the fallen had four or five bayonets thrust into them, pinning them to the trench wall, impossible to pull free.
One soldier still clung to a Japanese leg, his fingernails digging deep into the flesh, his mouth having torn away a great hunk, his own back nothing but blood and raw flesh.
These reinforcements were mostly seasoned veterans, and with one glance, they could tell that the wounds on the back must have come from the enemy, enraged by the soldier’s unyielding grip, repeatedly stabbing and thrusting with a bayonet.
At this sight, the reinforcements' expressions changed; mouths fell open in shock, horror etched across their faces.
Two soldiers, unable to bear the scene, stepped forward to separate the bodies, but the dead man's fingers were so deeply embedded in the Japanese’s thigh that no matter how they pulled, they could not pry him loose.
Even in rigor mortis, the grip remained unbroken!
Without seeing this with their own eyes, it was impossible to imagine just how shocking it truly was.
Many of these veterans had fought their way through the Battle of Shanghai, seasoned by countless engagements, yet even so, they were left utterly stunned by what they saw.
"What carnage..." one muttered, staring blankly at the scene.
No one spoke; all gazed silently at the aftermath. Even just from the remains, one could see that not a single defender had retreated.
At the very brink of death, each one's resolve was unwavering, their sacrifice complete and unhesitating.
"Salute!"
The leading officer tore off his cap, straightened his uniform, and called out loudly.
He saluted the fallen on the battlefield, and the dozens of soldiers behind him followed suit, offering the highest honors to the dead.
The surviving men of the battalion, including Huzi and Chen Qingzhi, watched their gesture in silence. None spoke, but in their hearts, they mourned their fallen comrades.
Only because every man had laid down his life in desperate defense did they live to see reinforcements arrive!
In truth, the lives of the survivors were a gift from the dead.
"At ease!" the officer commanded, lowering his hand.

By then, his eyes were already rimmed with red.
He was not alone; as the salute ended, many of the reinforcements had eyes shining with tears, some even weeping openly.
These were stalwart men, unflinching killers of the enemy, yet faced with such a sight, they wept tears as well.
"If you hadn't made it in time, the Zhonghua Gate position would truly have been lost!" Chen Qingzhi, having rested a while and caught his breath, stood up and walked to the officer, speaking softly.
"Captain Chen, sir! I am Fang Xiaodong, pistol platoon leader of the 527th Regiment!" Fang Xiaodong saluted Chen Qingzhi, then, choking up, added, "I'm sorry. We came too late!"
"Ah!" Chen Qingzhi shook his head at this and replied, "You made it in time, and for that I am endlessly grateful! That the position is held is fortune enough. As for casualties, they are unavoidable! Don't blame yourself, Lieutenant Fang."
He continued, "The pistol platoon is directly under regimental command. How did you get here? What's the situation at the main position?"
But at this, Fang Xiaodong’s face darkened, his voice heavy. "Colonel Liao was killed in action."
"What!" Chen Qingzhi was stunned, exclaiming, "Colonel Liao is dead? Then how did you get here?"
Colonel Liao—Liao Qiling—was commander of the 527th Regiment of the 246th Brigade, 88th Division, and Chen Qingzhi’s direct superior, stationed at Zhonghua Gate and part of Yuhuatai in the defense of Nanjing.
From memories of his past life, Chen knew Colonel Liao was a renowned and upright man, one who despised evil most of all, and hated the Japanese with a burning passion. Who could have foreseen he would fall in battle here?
At this, Fang Xiaodong continued, "Not only that. The deputy commander and adjutant were also killed! Before he died, Colonel Liao led his men in the main battle, but the Japanese attacked with overwhelming force. The regiment fought to the last, and in less than an hour, was nearly destroyed."
"Our regiment could fight no more, and another was sent by division HQ to hold the line, so we withdrew. I remembered our brothers were still here, so I led all the remaining men over!"
Fang Xiaodong’s face was filled with grief as he spoke.