Turning the Tables at Xihengjing

Dusk fell quickly in Shanghai. Shortly after six, the sky grew dark and heavy. Clouds hung low in the west, a gray blanket that let through no trace of daylight.

In the distance, several Japanese gunboats sounded their horns on the Huangpu River. The long, muffled blasts rolled over the rooftops, making the paper windows hum and lending the air an oppressive, deadly stillness.

Shen Yan sat at his office desk with that day's New Shen Bao spread before him. He turned the paper over and studied several lines of small print in the center seam. It was a missing-person notice placed by Qian Bin, but in truth, it was a coded message saying he was safe.

After confirming the message, he folded the newspaper and slipped it into a drawer.

Shen Yan leaned back in his chair and slowly closed his eyes.

The next second, an icy system notification rang abruptly in his mind.

[Ding! Random intelligence triggered-]

His eyes snapped open, all trace of sleepiness gone. A system panel unfolded before him.

[Time: The early hours of August 11, 1937]

[Location: Xihengjing Village, Zhudi Town, Shanghai County]

[Event: The traitor Zhao Jiayou colluded with Japanese Second Lieutenant Kato, leading more than 200 Japanese and puppet troops to encircle and annihilate Hou Boquan's unit of the Third Detachment of the Songhu Anti-Japanese Guerrilla Column.]

[Current forces: 127 Japanese soldiers, 3 officers, 4 light machine guns and 2 grenade dischargers; over 70 puppet troops; 31 combatants in Hou Boquan's unit, with 14 rifles, fewer than 10 rounds per rifle and only 6 grenades.]

[Historical outcome: 28 men from Hou Boquan's unit were killed, and Hou Boquan was captured and brutally murdered. More than a hundred homes in Xihengjing Village were burned down by the Japanese invaders, and dozens of innocent villagers were killed or wounded.]

[Optional mission: Turn the tables at Xihengjing]

[Mission objective: Change the historical outcome by annihilating or routing the invading enemy]

[Mission reward: Good and Evil Points +5,000; unlock new skill "Hostility Perception (Beginner)"]

[Failure penalty: None]

Shen Yan stared at the troop figures on the panel. Thirty-one men against more than two hundred Japanese and puppet troops, with a world of difference in equipment. The situation was perilous in the extreme.

"Fang Yuan, come in for a moment," he called in a low voice.

Fang Yuan pushed the door open and entered, standing straight. "Captain, what are your orders?"

"Tell Boss Qian to meet me at the usual place in half an hour."

The meeting place was in a secluded lane in the French Concession, hidden in the backyard of an inconspicuous grocery store. It was both discreet and safe.

When Shen Yan arrived, Qian Bin was already waiting. Dressed in a gray cloth gown and an old felt hat, he sat upright in a bamboo chair with a pot of warm tea before him, his expression composed.

Fang Yuan stood guard at the courtyard entrance. When he saw Shen Yan come in, he nodded silently, turned and closed the door, then kept watch outside.

"What happened?" Qian Bin asked, looking up. His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp; he had clearly sensed the urgency.

Shen Yan sat down opposite him without touching the tea and got straight to the point. "Early tomorrow morning, the traitor Zhao Jiayou is taking the Japanese to Xihengjing to encircle and annihilate Hou Boquan's guerrillas."

Qian Bin's expression changed sharply. He immediately put down his teacup and leaned forward. "Is the information reliable?"

"Absolutely," Shen Yan said gravely. "More than two hundred Japanese and puppet troops, equipped with light machine guns and grenade dischargers. They've got plenty of firepower. Hou Boquan has only thirty-odd men, a dozen battered rifles, and pitifully little ammunition."

Qian Bin rose and paced slowly around the room. His steps were steady but heavy, thudding against the concrete floor.

"Hou Boquan..." he murmured, his voice carrying a measure of respect. "I know him. He's a tough man from the Zhudi area, always fierce when fighting the Japanese. Just last month, he ambushed Zhao Jiayou and killed the traitor Zhang Rong. Zhao Jiayou must have held a grudge and come specifically for revenge."

He stopped and looked at Shen Yan. "What do you plan to do?"

"I'm going myself," Shen Yan said firmly. "I need you to inform Hou Boquan that I'll be in full command of this battle. He must follow my orders."

As he spoke, he took a copper coin from his pocket and gently set it on the table. It was small, only a little wider than a fingernail, its front worn smooth and lustrous, the character "Qing" engraved on the back. It was a token he had asked the system to make especially for him, one of a kind and impossible to counterfeit.

"Tell Hou Boquan that whoever carries this coin is one of us. Have him bring his entire unit to Zhangjia Dachang in the south at three in the morning and wait for me. No questions-just be there on time."

"Zhangjia Dachang?" Qian Bin looked puzzled. "That's an open rice field with no cover anywhere around it. There's no way to hide..."

"That's exactly why I want it open," Shen Yan interrupted, his tone assured. "Just do as I say."

Qian Bin gave him a long look but asked no more questions. He reached out, put the coin away and rose. "I'll make the arrangements immediately. Take care."

Shen Yan nodded slightly, got up and left.

At one in the morning, dark clouds covered the moon, leaving the fields so black that a man could not see his hand in front of his face.

Shen Yan used the Clone Technique. His original body remained on the office sofa, covered by an overcoat, breathing evenly as though fast asleep. The clone took a silent amphibious motorcycle from System Space, swung onto it and quietly started the engine.

The motorcycle made no sound as it traveled, gliding through the night like a shadow swimming into the deep sea, silently heading for the outskirts.

The journey from the city to Zhudi Town was over twenty li. The motorcycle kept to country paths, skillfully avoiding the main roads and Japanese sentries, and met no obstacles along the way.

The night wind swept past his ears, carrying the damp, fishy smell of the rice fields and a faint trace of woodsmoke from distant villages.

Forty minutes later, Shen Yan arrived without incident at Zhangjia Dachang, south of Zhudi.

It was a harvested rice field, as large as three soccer fields, with level ground, a wide view and no trees to obstruct it. Three hundred meters to the north lay the main road the Japanese and puppet troops had to take. On either side of the road were bare field ridges, with nowhere to hide. A dry irrigation ditch half a man deep ran along each side of the field, east and west, just right for natural cover.

Shen Yan stood in the middle of the field and looked around. Just then, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, casting cold light over the harvested field. The yellowed rice stubble gleamed faintly silver, and everything in sight lay open to view. Any movement on the northern road would be perfectly clear.

He strode behind the dry ditch on the east side and took five Type 92 Heavy Machine Guns from System Space. He set them up in a row behind the earthen bank, four meters apart, their barrels all pointing northwest and trained on the middle of the road.

The Type 92 Heavy Machine Guns had clearly defined rings of cooling fins around their barrels. Their bodies were not especially large, but once their tripods were spread, they rested on the ground as solidly as rocks. Steel ammunition strips fed into the left side of the receivers, their neatly aligned rows of brass cartridges gleaming dark gold in the moonlight.

He then crossed the open rice field to the rear of the western dry ditch and did the same, setting up five more Type 92 Heavy Machine Guns with their barrels pointing northeast.

Five on each flank, ten heavy machine guns in all, formed a tight crossfire. Their two lines of fire would meet perfectly in the middle of the road, leaving no blind spots.

He stacked boxes of ammunition strips beside the guns, providing twenty strips per gun, thirty rounds per strip, for a full six hundred rounds each. Every strip was already loaded; all they had to do was feed one into the receiver and fire.

With the machine guns in place, he moved on to the grenade dischargers. He set ten Type 89 Grenade Dischargers behind the machine-gun positions on the two flanks, supplied each with thirty rounds and aimed them all at the far reaches of the road. Their specific job was to cut off the enemy's retreat and block any reinforcements.

Shen Yan stood in the middle of the field, gazed at the firing positions on both flanks and took a deep breath.

Ten heavy machine guns would weave a crossfire, while ten grenade dischargers sealed the rear. It was enough to deal with the two hundred-odd Japanese and puppet troops.

He found a lone elm on the south side of the field and climbed nimbly to the top, straddling the highest fork. From that height, he could look down on the entire battlefield: the road to the north, the machine-gun positions on both flanks and the rice field between them.

Shen Yan took an SVT-40 semi-automatic sniper rifle from the space, rested it on a branch in front of him and adjusted the scope's focus. Under the moonlight, even the gravel and weeds on the road were perfectly clear. The view through the scope was excellent.

After setting up the rifle, he took a compressed biscuit from the space and ate it with some cold water. Then he leaned against the trunk and closed his eyes for a while.

Everything was ready. He lay still, waiting quietly for his prey to come to him.

At ten minutes to three, a jumble of footsteps sounded in the distance.

Shen Yan glanced at the System Minimap. More than thirty red dots were slowly approaching: Hou Boquan's unit.

Hou Boquan led the group. He was tall and lean, with a vicious scar across his face that ran from his brow ridge to his cheekbone. It was a mark left by a past bayonet fight with puppet troops, and it lent him an air of fierce courage.

Hou Boquan reached the edge of the field and stopped dead when he saw the two rows of dark heavy machine guns behind the dry ditches to the east and west. His face filled with shock.

The guerrillas behind him stopped as well. Some gaped, some sucked in sharp breaths, and a few nearly let their rifles fall from their hands.

Ten Type 92 Heavy Machine Guns, five on each side, stood firmly behind the earthen banks, their tripods spread and their barrels pointed north. The cooling fins gleamed coldly in the moonlight, loaded ammunition strips sat neatly in the receivers, and shell boxes and grenades were piled beside them like small mountains. Such firepower was far beyond anything they had imagined.

Hou Boquan walked slowly forward and reached out to touch the cold cooling fins of a machine gun. His fingertips met hard steel, and his voice came out a little hoarse. "Where... where did all these come from?"

"Captain Hou."

At the voice, everyone spun around and raised their rifles toward the treetop in unison.

"Don't misunderstand. I'm one of you."

With that, Shen Yan leaped from the tree and landed steadily. He took out the copper coin and held it out to Hou Boquan.

Hou Boquan took the coin and examined it on both sides. After confirming it was genuine, he handed it back. "The token is right." His gaze returned to the heavy machine guns, and he could scarcely hide his excitement. "These... are all for us to use?"

"That's right. Everyone knows how to operate them, I hope?" Shen Yan asked gravely. "Time is short. The Japanese will be here soon. If anyone doesn't know how, I need to adjust the deployment immediately."

Hou Boquan nodded at once and turned to call to his men. "Everyone, over here!"

The guerrillas gathered around, every face alight with delight at the heavy machine guns before them. Some crouched to run their hands over the guns, while others picked up ammunition strips for a closer look, their eyes full of excitement.

"Stop dawdling and get into position!" Hou Boquan barked quietly, quickly assigning tasks. "Wang Dage, take nine men and handle the five machine guns on the east side. Li Erdan, take nine men and control the five on the west. Remember: crossfire. Your lines of fire must meet in the middle of the road and seal off the whole stretch."

He turned to Shen Yan, his tone respectful. "Our superiors have already ordered us to follow your command in this battle. Will that arrangement work?"

Shen Yan nodded slightly. "My first shot will be the signal. As soon as you hear it, everyone opens fire. Don't stop the machine guns-keep sweeping the road until the enemy is completely wiped out!"

Hou Boquan continued issuing orders. "Zhao Laoliu, take ten men to operate the grenade dischargers, five on the left flank and five on the right. Once the machine guns open up, bombard the far reaches of the road with everything you have and cut off the Japanese retreat."

"Everyone else, once the suppressing fire ends, move forward immediately to clear the battlefield and collect supplies."

The men sprang into action, some collecting guns and others carrying ammunition, all moving briskly. Wang Dage crouched behind the first heavy machine gun on the east side, pushed an ammunition strip into the receiver and pulled the bolt. A sharp metallic click cut through the night. He looked up at the position on the western flank opposite him and grinned, full of excitement. "Captain, ten heavy machine guns! Right now, we're better equipped than the regular army!"

"Shut up and maintain discipline!" Hou Boquan scolded in a low voice, though the corners of his mouth rose despite himself, his delight plain to see.

Shen Yan climbed back up the elm, set up his sniper rifle and fixed the scope on the road to the north.

"Everyone, listen. If anyone dares open fire before hearing my shot, they'll be dealt with under military law!" he said in a low, stern voice.

Silence instantly returned to the field. More than thirty guerrillas lay in the dry ditches, fingers tight on their triggers, staring without blinking at the northern road as they held their breath and waited.

Moonlight fell on the rice field, turning the stubble silver. An evening breeze carried the scent of earth and moisture, and a lone rooster crowed from a distant village, the sound soon fading into the night.

Shen Yan watched the System Minimap intently. The yellow dots representing the Japanese and puppet troops were drawing steadily closer.

Three hundred meters, two hundred and fifty, two hundred...

In the deep darkness, the column of Japanese and puppet troops cast a long black shadow along the gravel road. Horses snorted from time to time, and steel helmets knocked together with dull clunks. The traitor Zhao Jiayou trotted beside a Japanese horse, the hem of his silk gown brushing the roadside weeds and gathering dew. He was out of breath but dared not slow down.

"Sir," he said, drawing close to the horse and keeping his voice very low, afraid someone in the darkness might hear, "Hou Boquan and his men are hiding in Xihengjing Village. They can't get away."

Kato, mounted on the horse, did not answer. His face was cold and hard.

Zhao Jiayou swallowed, his voice dropping even lower. "That bunch won't be easy to deal with. Last time, Vice Chairman Zhang Rong led men against them, and his entire force was wiped out in no time. I..."

Before finishing, he raised a hand to touch the scar on his face, his fingers trembling slightly. It was a mark left when the guerrillas had wounded him last time, and it had become a source of shame.

"Thirty-odd men and a dozen battered rifles," Kato said from horseback, his voice flat.

Zhao Jiayou hurried to agree. "You're right, sir. They have few men, poor guns and not enough ammunition. All they have is their knowledge of the terrain. They fire a shot and move somewhere else. Last time the Imperial Army went after them, they slipped into the reeds and vanished."

He paused, hatred creeping into his voice. "This time is different. Xihengjing is surrounded by water on three sides, and there's only one bridge in or out. I've already sent men to guard it. They couldn't escape even if they had wings."

Kato finally turned his head and gave him a cold glance.

Zhao Jiayou hurriedly bent at the waist, his face full of fawning smiles that twisted his scar. "With you personally leading the troops, sir, and the Imperial Army's firepower, Hou Boquan's little band won't stand a chance."

Kato did not answer. He turned to look ahead, while his horse's hooves clicked at an unhurried, steady rhythm on the gravel road.

Zhao Jiayou hurried after him again, lowering his voice still further, a vicious edge to it. "Sir, when we reach Xihengjing, don't be too quick to kill Hou Boquan. Let me identify them first. I know that lot all too well. I'd recognize them even if they were reduced to ashes."

He touched the scar on his face and gritted his teeth. "I'll drag him out myself. Whatever he did to me last time, I'll pay him back double!"

Kato spoke blandly. "Once you find him, what will you do with him?"

Zhao Jiayou froze, then said viciously, "Once I find him, I'll shoot him on the spot to settle my hatred!"

Kato asked again, "What about the ones you can't find?"

Zhao Jiayou opened his mouth but was at a loss for words.

Kato lifted his chin toward the darkness ahead, his voice cold and merciless. "The people of Xihengjing, men and women, old and young-not one is to be spared."

"Burn every house in the village to the ground." Kato spoke flatly, as though discussing something trivial. "Let everyone within ten li see clearly what happens to those who dare oppose the Imperial Army."

Zhao Jiayou faltered for a moment, then plastered a fawning smile across his face and rubbed his hands. "Brilliant, sir! Kill one to warn a hundred. Once Xihengjing is burned, no one in any of the surrounding villages will dare shelter the guerrillas or oppose the Imperial Army again!"

The more he spoke, the more excited he became, and even his steps grew lighter. "When the time comes, leave the killing and burning to me. I know every household in Xihengjing. I guarantee not a single one will slip through the net!"

Kato looked at him and gave a slight twitch of his lips, a gesture of tacit approval.

Zhao Jiayou smiled until his eyes narrowed, trotting beside the horse with the dew-soaked hem of his silk gown fluttering. His arrogance grew by the moment.

In the treetop, Shen Yan held his finger steady on the sniper rifle's trigger. The crosshairs remained fixed on Kato's chest, shifting slightly with the rise and fall of the horse's gait.

"Bang!"

A sharp gunshot split the silent night.

Kato's body stiffened, and he fell backward onto the horse's back. The startled animal reared its head, neighed wildly and bolted in every direction.

At the sniper's signal, all ten heavy machine guns opened fire at once. The entire road became a fiery slaughterhouse in an instant.

Five guns in the east and five in the west sent dense streams of bullets crossing in the air, forming an impenetrable web of fire. The puppet troops in the front rank had no chance to react. Bullets punched straight through them, mowing them down in an instant before they even had room to fall.

"Enemy attack!"

Terrified out of his wits, Zhao Jiayou screamed and scrambled into a shallow roadside pit. He curled into a ball, trembling all over.

The Japanese and puppet troops fell into chaos. Some ran left, only to be cut off by bullets from the left flank; others ran right, only to be driven back by fire from the right. The streams of bullets met in the middle of the road-the farther they ran, the faster they died. One puppet soldier charged forward a dozen steps before the crossfire from both sides struck him, tearing his body apart in a gruesome sight.

The machine gunners held their barrels down and kept firing, their arms numb from the recoil. Scalding casings poured from the receivers, clattering to the ground and quickly building up in thick layers. The assistant gunners changed ammunition strips nonstop. Thirty rounds were expended in just a few seconds, and they dared not waste an instant reloading.

"Grenade dischargers, fire!"

At the command, ten rounds rose one after another and whistled low over the ground into the Japanese and puppet ranks. Explosions followed in an unbroken series, rolling like thunder.

Wherever the shrapnel swept, it tore apart Japanese and puppet soldiers, roadside gravel and wild grass alike. One round landed directly beneath a galloping horse, blowing it to pieces before it could even cry out.

Kato fell from the horse, his saber flung more than three meters away and his cap tumbling into a ditch, leaving him in a sorry state.

"Machine guns, extend your fire!"

The gunners raised their barrels slightly, sending their streams of bullets over the bodies in front to sweep precisely across the enemies still resisting in the rear. Several Japanese soldiers tried to set up a Crooked-Handle Light Machine Gun and return fire, but they had barely settled at the edge of the ditch and positioned the gun when bursts from the heavy machine guns tore them apart, blasting men and weapon to pieces.

Prone in the treetop, Shen Yan handled his sniper rifle steadily. One shot dropped a Japanese officer waving a saber as he directed his men. Another pierced a grenade discharger operator's chest. A third pinned a sergeant trying to crawl out of the ditch to its bottom. Not a shot missed.

After just five minutes, the gunfire gradually died away.

No one had ordered a ceasefire. The Japanese and puppet troops on the road had been completely wiped out, with no one left alive.

Corpses littered the road, ditches and field ridges, piled haphazardly atop one another. Blood soaked the road, gleaming dark red in the moonlight, and its stench filled the air.

Shen Yan slid down from the treetop, slung the sniper rifle over his back and walked slowly toward the battlefield.

Kato lay among the corpses, his back riddled with bullet holes, long since dead. The horse beside him had its belly torn open and its intestines spilling out, though some warmth still lingered in its body.

Shen Yan glanced at the System Minimap. Only one dot representing a living person remained on the field.

"He's good at hiding, I'll give him that." Shen Yan gave a cold laugh and called Hou Boquan over to accompany him toward the dot.

Zhao Jiayou lay by the ditch, covered in blood and filth, eyes squeezed shut and lips trembling. A large wet patch had spread across his crotch. He was scared out of his wits, but he was still playing dead.

Hou Boquan gently tapped his head with the barrel of his rifle. "Master Zhao, stop pretending. Get up."

Zhao Jiayou's eyes flew open, and he kowtowed frantically against the ground until blood streamed from his forehead. "Spare me, Captain Hou! I'm Chinese too! Spare my life..."

Hou Boquan crouched and stared at him, each word cutting deep. "When you brought the Japanese here to slaughter the people of Xihengjing, why didn't you remember you were Chinese?"

Shen Yan raised his gun without the slightest hesitation.

"Bang!"

Blood burst from the back of Zhao Jiayou's head. He collapsed like a torn sack and breathed no more.

The men then cleared the battlefield, a task that took more than half an hour. They dragged the bodies of the Japanese and puppet troops to one spot and stacked them neatly, while the captured weapons and ammunition formed another small mountain. Besides the large numbers of Type 38 Rifles, light machine guns and grenade dischargers, one of the men pulled a mortar from a ditch and found two boxes of shells. It was a substantial haul.

Old Wu came running over, so excited that he stammered. "R-report, Captain! We captured more than 160 Type 38 Rifles, six Crooked-Handle Light Machine Guns, four grenade dischargers, one mortar, over sixty boxes of ammunition, more than two hundred hand grenades..."

Before the report was finished, Hou Boquan turned to Shen Yan, his eyes full of gratitude.

"Take all the supplies we captured this time. I'll also leave you two heavy machine guns and ten boxes of machine-gun ammunition," Shen Yan said. He understood the guerrillas' situation: heavy machine guns had formidable firepower, but they were too cumbersome, consumed enormous amounts of ammunition and were ill suited to the guerrillas' mobile warfare.

Hou Boquan understood at once. As good as heavy weapons were, they did not suit the guerrillas' way of fighting. Only by remaining mobile could they continue resisting Japan in the long term. He immediately nodded his agreement.

"One more thing. After this battle, the Japanese are bound to retaliate like mad. You can't stay in the Xihengjing area any longer. Make sure you organize the villagers to evacuate as soon as possible, so the Japanese can't slaughter the village to vent their anger," Shen Yan warned gravely.

"Don't worry. I'll arrange for the villagers to evacuate right away. Brother, words can't express my gratitude!" Hou Boquan clasped Shen Yan's hand tightly. His palm was rough and thick with calluses, and his grip was strong, full of respect.

"No need. We're all family when it comes to fighting the Japanese." Shen Yan withdrew his hand and urged him on. "Get moving. Japanese reinforcements will arrive at daybreak. There won't be time then."

Hou Boquan nodded and turned away. Just as he was about to lead his men off, he stopped and looked back at Shen Yan. "Brother, who exactly are you?"

Shen Yan considered for a moment, then replied, "If you run into trouble again, contact me through your superior. If I can help, I'll be there."

Hou Boquan gave him a long look but asked no more questions. He turned and called to his men to gather the supplies. Carrying the wounded and the captured weapons, they gradually disappeared into the thin morning mist.

Shen Yan stood in the empty open field, watching the group depart until they vanished from sight.

By then, the eastern sky was turning pale, and roosters crowed back and forth in the distance. A new day was about to begin.

He stored the remaining heavy machine gun and silent motorcycle on the ground in his space, silently thought, Retrieve the clone, and vanished into the morning light.

The clone was successfully retrieved, and Shen Yan's consciousness returned to his main body. He sat up on the sofa and stretched his stiff neck. The tea on the coffee table had long since gone cold. He poured out the remaining tea, made himself a fresh cup of hot water, and took a sip.

Immediately afterward, system notifications sounded in his mind one after another.

[Ding! Mission complete: Reverse the outcome at Xihengjing]

[Killed Japanese army second lieutenant Kato. Good and Evil Points +500]

[Killed 126 Japanese soldiers. Good and Evil Points +12600]

[Killed 34 collaborationist soldiers. Good and Evil Points +340]

[Saved 31 men from Hou Boquan's unit. Good and Evil Points +3100]

[Changed the historical outcome. Bonus reward: Good and Evil Points +5000]

[New skill unlocked: Hostility Perception (Beginner)]

[Current Good and Evil Points: 31540]

[Skill name]: Hostility Perception (Beginner)

[Effect]: When someone develops a clear intent to kill the host (aiming, tracking, or lying in ambush), the system issues a warning and indicates the direction of the hostility. Range: within a 50-meter radius.

Shen Yan looked at the Good and Evil Points that had surged on the panel and the newly unlocked skill. The corners of his mouth rose in a faint smile.

He got up, walked to the window, and pushed it open. Fresh morning air poured into the room, carrying the dampness of dew and the fragrance of the rice paddies. The street gradually came to life as vendors selling soy milk and fried dough sticks, rickshaw pullers, and people of all kinds began their day's work. The place was full of everyday bustle.

In the distance, toward Hongkou, the morning sun slowly rose. Golden rays fell across the Huangpu River, making its waters shimmer and dispelling the darkness of the night.

Shen Yan took a deep breath of the morning air, his mind clear and at ease.