Chapter Sixty-One: News from Nanjing!

The letter was long, and Chen Qingzhi read it slowly, but eventually, every letter must be finished.

He placed the letter on the table and rose to his feet, gazing through the window at the soldiers training on the field outside. A trace of loneliness crept over his face.

Outside, the soldiers' shouted slogans rang out, shaking the very air with their vigor, yet Chen Qingzhi seemed not to hear them at all. He stood by the window, lost in thought, staring blankly ahead.

There were many important matters mentioned in Luo Cheng’s letter, but what weighed most heavily on Chen Qingzhi’s heart was the fate of the people of Nanjing.

It had been over two weeks since Nanjing had fallen, and yet not a single word of news had reached them. This silence filled Chen Qingzhi with an ominous foreboding.

He yearned to know: in this era, would Nanjing suffer the same fate as in history? And if so...

Chen Qingzhi clenched his fist in secret.

“Huzi! Huzi!” Chen Qingzhi suddenly called out loudly.

“Commander, you called for me!” Huzi, who had been outside observing the new recruits’ training, hurriedly pushed open the door at Chen Qingzhi’s summons.

“Huzi, have the people I sent to Nanjing to gather information brought back any news?” Chen Qingzhi asked.

At this, Huzi paused to think, then replied, “So far, no word has come back, but I’ve already sent out four or five groups. Even if something happened, at least someone should have made it back. Maybe in a while, we’ll finally get some news.”

“After all, the area around Nanjing is occupied by the enemy now. It’s dangerous, and many things are not easy to do,” Huzi explained.

“Hmm.” Chen Qingzhi nodded, tamping down his inner anxiety, and said in a low voice, “You must keep a close watch on everything happening in Nanjing. The moment you hear anything, report to me at once.”

“Understood!” Huzi nodded, hesitated a moment, then asked somewhat uncertainly, “Commander, why are you so concerned about Nanjing? Is something major about to happen there?”

Chen Qingzhi shook his head and replied in a grave tone, “With the city occupied by the Japanese, I can’t shake a sense of dread—like something terrible is about to happen. I want you to keep a close eye on Nanjing because I can’t put my worries to rest.”

Without news, Chen Qingzhi could not know the specifics of the situation.

Thus, he could not voice his fears, much less confide them to another. Faced with Huzi’s question, he could only answer as he did.

Fortunately, Huzi did not probe further. He simply nodded and, seeing Chen Qingzhi had no other orders, returned to drill the broadsword squad.

“Alas! Troubled times indeed!”

Chen Qingzhi suddenly let out a deep sigh, his voice tinged with melancholy.

In the days that followed, the Independent Brigade continued its steady training. Since crushing the bandits at Luo Qingzhai with decisive force, the city of Qingyuan and its surroundings had been shaken. The smaller bandit dens nearby were all greatly alarmed and became much more subdued.

Some bandits, frightened, even disbanded entirely, their ranks vanishing overnight without a trace.

Thus, the brigade was able to train in peace for a time.

The soldiers endured daily high-intensity drills. Though there was some grumbling, the plentiful meals—meat at least once a day—made the hardships bearable.

Moreover, after the baptism of fire in the operation against Luo Qingzhai, the men became steadier, more composed. They were not yet veterans, but they had begun to show the bearing of seasoned soldiers.

During this period, though the brigade’s training went smoothly, Chen Qingzhi’s own heart was not at ease. On the contrary, the passing days only deepened his worry.

As time wore on, his sense of foreboding grew ever stronger.

He absentmindedly joined the soldiers for a short while during training, but his brow remained furrowed. He was about to stroll around the camp when he saw Huzi hurrying toward him, agitation written plainly on his face. From a distance, Huzi called out loudly, “Commander! Commander, something terrible has happened!”

“What is it? What’s happened?” Chen Qingzhi asked at once.

“Commander, we’ve got news from Nanjing! The situation is dire!” Huzi waved a thick folder in his hand, his voice urgent.

“Come, we’ll talk in my office,” Chen Qingzhi said, stopping Huzi from opening the folder on the spot. His tone brooked no argument. “Also, call the regiment commanders—have them all come to my office.”

Huzi nodded solemnly.

Soon, the regiment commanders had all assembled in Chen Qingzhi’s office. Seeing that everyone was present, Chen Qingzhi summoned a soldier to serve them all tea.

Once the tea was poured, the soldier saluted and withdrew, closing the door behind him. Chen Qingzhi then went over to lock it from the inside, and also shut the windows.

At this, Fang Xiaodong, Wang Yachuan, and Zhu Xiaocheng all looked puzzled, unable to guess what could require such caution from their commander.

Ignoring their questioning looks, Chen Qingzhi lifted his tea, took a sip, and said, “You’re probably all wondering why I called you here. Huzi, give the folder to Fang Xiaodong—have him read it to everyone.”

If one listened closely, one might have heard a faint tremor in Chen Qingzhi’s voice. If one looked carefully, one would have seen his hand, holding the teacup, was shaking ever so slightly.

Huzi handed the thick stack of documents to Fang Xiaodong. Setting his own cup aside, Fang Xiaodong glanced in confusion at Chen Qingzhi and the grave-faced Huzi before opening the folder.

The moment his eyes fell on the first page, Fang Xiaodong froze. Then, his face changed dramatically, his eyes filling with disbelief.

The other commanders, watching Fang Xiaodong’s reaction, grew increasingly curious and impatient to know what was inside.

“Commander, is this all true?” Fang Xiaodong looked up at Chen Qingzhi, his voice tinged with bitterness.

“My scouts just returned from Nanjing. This is what they saw with their own eyes,” Huzi replied somberly.

“Fang Xiaodong, read it! Read it aloud! Leave nothing out—read it all!” Chen Qingzhi commanded, his voice cold as ice.

“Yes, sir!” Fang Xiaodong replied, his arm trembling violently as he held the heavy folder.

It was only a bundle of papers, yet at that moment, it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds in Fang Xiaodong’s hands. The weight seemed to press the very breath from his chest.

Drawing a deep breath, he began to read, his voice quivering with emotion as he slowly recited the records from the file…