Yaoting and San-Shao stood frozen, watching the girl's frenzied blade work. This wasn't just anger—this was blood-deep, generational hatred carved into their bones by Japanese atrocities.

　　The major turned sharply, his salute crisp: "The Republic owes you both!" His eyes locked onto San-Shao—"You made the traitor?"

　　San-Shao's nod was tight: "Clear as day, sir! But when these devils came at me, that rat melted into the crowd."

　　The girl's voice cut through like a knife: "East Gate! They bolted for East Gate!"

　　The major's boot already pivoted: "With me! Now!"

　　A single glance between the Dong cousins—Yaoting's chin dipped. The group surged forward, scattering civilians like chaff before a scythe.

　　At East Gate, the major's kick sent the sentry sprawling: "Anyone pass?"

　　"A group just—"

　　"RAISE THAT GATE!"

　　Four figures—three men and the mole-faced traitor—were eating up the road a hundred paces out. San-Shao wrenched the rifle from the nearest sentry—

　　CRACK!

　　The traitor's spine arched like a bow.

　　CRACK!

　　A Jap's skull snapped forward.

　　CRACK!

　　The second Jap crumpled mid-stride.

　　One kept running.

　　The major's jaw hung slack. Yaoting's chuckle was dark wine. Zhang Facai's roar shook the walls:

　　"HOLY FUCKING SHIT, DONG! YOU SHREDDED THEM!"

　　San-Shao tossed the rifle back to the petrified sentry, his face as calm as a millpond.

　　The old man measured him with new eyes. The girl—her palms red from clapping—bounced on her toes:

　　"Big Brother Soldier! You shoot like the God of War!"

　　San-Shao's ears burned: "Your grandfather... two Japs with bare hands... that's real power."

　　The girl shot her grandfather a triumphant glance, to which the old man responded with a knowing nod - his silent approval speaking volumes.

　　"51st Division men, are you?" the major inquired sharply, his eyes boring into San-Shao.

　　Yaoting stood at attention. "Reporting, Major! My brother San-Shao and I are fresh recruits from the 51st!"

　　The major's skeptical gaze shifted to Zhang Facai. "This one too? And what brings the 51st to Pengtse when they're stationed at De'an?"

　　Yaoting swallowed hard. "Only Zhang's a veteran, sir. Our entire battalion - Commander Zhou, Company Leader Zhang, three platoon leaders and 240 men - got wiped out by the Japs."

　　As the sentries returned with the corpses, the major roughly pulled down the dead Jap's trousers, exposing the telltale white fundoshi. He kicked the traitor's body contemptuously. "Tomorrow's the Resist-Japan Academy graduation. What were these devils plotting?"

　　Yaoting could only shake his head helplessly.

　　"Return to your unit," the major dismissed them abruptly, already striding away with the corpses.

　　The three stood rooted, their stomachs growling after 24 hours without food. The promised hot meal had evaporated before their eyes.

　　San-Shao scratched his unshaven neck nervously. "Young Master... what now?"

　　Yaoting scanned the sun-baked city walls and Nationalist sentries, his expression lost.

　　Zhang Facai - his corporal's stripe marking his seniority - straightened with sudden purpose. "First order of business: food. Can't fight Japs on empty stomachs."

　　San-Shao nodded eagerly. "Any coins left, Young Master?"

　　Yaoting patted his threadbare pockets. "Lost everything in the battle. Not a copper to my name."

　　"Don't look at me!" Zhang spat. "Last month's two silver dollars went straight to my wife!"

　　San-Shao's shoulders slumped. "Fucking hell. Penniless heroes - what a fucking disgrace!"

　　Only then did Yaoting notice the old man and girl watching them intently. His ears burned with shame - they hadn't even properly thanked the girl for saving San-Shao's life. The weight of their "chǒu dàle" - this profound humiliation before their saviors - settled heavily on his shoulders.

　　Yaoting hesitated, then stepped forward—eldest brother's duty to give thanks. "Elder, we're just poor soldiers who barely escaped death yesterday. Your saving my brother—this debt's carved in our bones!"

　　San-Shao chimed in: "Young Master, I owe them coppers—for the girl's martial arts show!"

　　The girl burst into tinkling laughter: "Keep your coppers! Killing Japs repays all debts!"

　　Yaoting blinked at their banter. The old man chuckled: "Lads, I've coppers enough for a meal. Come!" He strode toward town.

　　Yaoting hurried after: "Elder, this shames us!"

　　The old man eyed him: "Boy, you're barely older than my granddaughter. Tell me your tale."

　　"I'm from Huang'an County's Dong Manor," Yaoting began. "First-year at Wuhan National University—until Japs came! What use are books when the nation falls? I enlisted, followed Commander Zhou toward De'an..." His voice cracked. "Ambush. Only we three remain."

　　The old man sighed: "A scholar-turned-soldier! Rare indeed!"

　　Meanwhile, San-Shao asked the girl: "What's your name?"

　　"Zhang Hanzhi," she said, fingers twisting her braid. "Grandfather's choice. Pretty?"

　　"Pretty... but not girlish," San-Shao mused. "Where's the 'jade' or 'flower'?"

　　She shook her head, braid swaying: "I hate frilly names. Even 'jade'..."

　　San-Shao shifted uneasily: "Why'd you... chop those Japs?"

　　Tears splashed her cheeks. "Last month... we returned from performing..." Her voice shattered. "Village burned. Parents... siblings... 200 souls... JAP BULLETS!"

　　San-Shao's nails bit his palms. Zhang Facai spat: "FUCKING JAP DEVILS! I'LL SKIN THEM ALIVE!"

　　Ahead, the old man turned: "Grandchild remembers her family..."

　　Yaoting understood—Nanjing's horror had been lectured at school, flags lowered to half-mast.

　　The old man continued: "I'm Old Zhang. Seventy-five winters. This girl's sixteen—last light of my life."

　　Yaoting eyed his gnarled fists: "Elder... your martial arts?"