Chapter 25: Breakout"

　　In the murky twilight, fresh Jap troops emerged like specters. Zhou Tong’s sharp eyes caught two officers exchanging crisp salutes—a formal handover ritual.

　　"Freeze, San-shao," she murmured, her voice a breath against the night wind.

　　He pressed deeper into the rubble, rifle stock welded to his cheek. Below, the officers finished their exchange. Suddenly, shouted commands ripped through the darkness—ghostly silhouettes scrambled into formation. The original garrison was moving out.

　　The Jap officers barked unintelligible commands.

　　San-shao whispered: "Should I waste those two commanders?"

　　Zhou Tong shook her head. "Pointless. The Hota Detachment’s pulling out—relieved by new garrison troops. Fall back."

　　"What about food?" San-shao pressed.

　　"Forget it," Zhou Tong said. "Tomorrow they’ll press-gang locals to rebuild. That’s our chance to slip out."

　　San-shao fell silent, trailing Zhou Tong back through the shadows. They melted into the courtyard where anxious faces awaited.

　　Yaoting scrambled forward. "Commander? What's the word?"

　　"Japs are rotating troops," Zhou Tong announced. "We break out tomorrow or next day. Food raid's off—stomachs stay empty till dawn."

　　Facai kicked dirt. "Thought you were some damn miracle worker, San-shao! Just blowing hot air!"

　　Yaoting shoved him. "Shut your trap! Show respect to the Lieutenant Colonel!" Facai paled—a grunt cursing brass meant court-martial.

　　Zhou Tong raised a calming hand. "San-shao aimed to hit their mess tent. I called it off. When Japs swap units, they comb every hole." She allowed a grim smile. "But when they 'restore order'? We'll waltz through the damn gates."

　　Yaoting nodded. "Commander's orders stand."

　　San-shao sat by the door, rifle propped. Hanzhi settled close beside him. Yaoting watched them, jaw tight. Damn him. Girls always favor him.

　　Zhou Tong spoke: "Rest if possible. Four guard shifts—two hours each. Agreed?"

　　"Understood," Yaoting answered. "First watch: Dong Yaoting."

　　They lay on hard ground. Sleep wouldn't come. Mosquitoes swarmed—buzzing, biting. Slaps echoed in the dark.

　　Relieving Pengze Garrison:

　　The 147th Regiment, 111th Brigade, 106th Division—Colonel Sonoda Yoshio commanding. Brigade Commander: Major General Yamachi Wataru.

　　Battle Context:

　　When the Hota Detachment stormed Pengze, China's 16th Division rushed to reinforce the 53rd. Colonel Sonoda's 147th and Colonel Tanaka's 113th Regiments held them at bay.

　　Outcome:

　　The entire 16th Division—pinned down by two regiments—ceased attacks only after learning Pengze had fallen.

　　Strategic Shift:

　　During Japan's Wuhan campaign, the Taiwanese-majority Hota Detachment spearheaded assaults. After seizing Matang Fortress and Pengze, General Okamura ordered them toward Hukou. Pengze's defense passed to the 111th Brigade—held in reserve until now.

　　At dawn, Major General Yamachi ordered Pengze's "order restored." Conscripted civilians cleared rubble-strewn streets under bayonet guard.

　　Zhou Tong thrust civilian clothes at the men. "Strip your uniforms. Blend in now." She and Hanzhi kept their peasant attire—dust-stained but inconspicuous.

　　From debris, she pulled coarse tunics—former spy gear smelling of mildew. San-shao watched Yaoting fumble with buttons. "Back to peasant life, Young Master?"

　　Yaoting yanked the rough collar. "Thirty days as soldiers? Barely soldiers at all."

　　San-shao chuckled. "Wonder how the young mistress fares? Missing home, Young Master?"

　　Yaoting glared. "Pathetic. Been out three days and whimpering already."

　　Zhou Tong nodded approval. "Good spirit. We head toward Nanchang after breakout—your De'an route starts there."

　　San-shao clutched his sniper rifle. "Commander Zhou, how do we take this out?"

　　"Impossible," she said after pause. "Japs inspect everything. Too risky."

　　"No gun? I stay!" San-shao's face darkened.

　　Hanzhi stepped closer. "Where San-shao stays, I stay."

　　"I'll get you a new one in Nanchang," Zhou Tong urged. "This'll get us all killed at checkpoints!"

　　Yaoting lunged for the rifle. "You son of a bitch! Want us slaughtered? Sentries swarm east and west gates!"

　　San-shao held tight. "Unarmed, we're dead if ambushed—like at Matang!"

　　Yaoting froze—memory of that riverside massacre turning his knuckles white.

　　Authentic Translation

　　Facai cursed: "San-shao! Your life or this goddamn rifle? Choose! Don't get us killed!"

　　San-shao turned to Zhou Tong. "Commander, if we leave it, can't let Japs grab it. Hide it?"

　　Zhou Tong nodded. "Stash it in the tunnel."

　　San-shao grinned. "Done." He sprinted to the well, grabbed the rope, and slid down like an eel.

　　At the tunnel mouth, he almost dropped the rifle—then froze. Why dig a tunnel with no exit? Hunger forgotten, he crawled forward, fingernails scraping soil.

　　At the dead end, he clawed at damp earth—fingers hitting blue bricks. Light seeped through cracks. He rammed the rifle butt. Thud-thud-CRACK! Bricks crumbled. Dawn light flooded in.

　　He wriggled through—emerged outside Pengze's walls. Gravestones dotted the field before him.

　　San-shao scrambled back through the tunnel. Two hours passed. Yaoting, defying Zhou Tong's orders, grabbed the well rope and slid down. Facai followed.

　　They collided head-on in the dark. "Son of a bitch! Where'd you vanish?" Yaoting rubbed his forehead.

　　San-shao grinned, massaging his own brow. "The tunnel goes through, Young Master! Exits at graveyard outside city walls."

　　"You made it out?" Yaoting's eyes lit.

　　Facai snorted behind him. "Goddammit! If you'd kept that rifle, we'd never known!"

　　"Fetch Commander Zhou and Hanzhi," Yaoting ordered Facai. "We break out through here."

　　Thirty minutes later, Zhou Tong emerged from the shaft, dust streaking her cheeks but hope in her voice: "San-shao—our lucky star! You cracked the impossible path."

　　"Exit's clear," San-shao promised. He led the crawl—ninety minutes through damp earth—until light stabbed the darkness. One by one, they spilled into the graveyard.

　　Zhou Tong gazed back at Pengze's walls. "Safe at last. Why didn't the Station Chief tell us?"

　　Yaoting watched distant Jap sentries on the ramparts. "Commander... De'an doesn't matter now. Captain Zhou's dead—our old unit thinks we died too."

　　"Your plan?" she asked.

　　"Take us to Nanchang," he said. "Give us enlistment papers. We'll fight Japs anywhere—just make it official."

　　Zhou Tong shrugged. "Easiest thing in the world."

　　Facai groaned, clutching his stomach. "Commander Zhou! Starving to death here! Find us some grub!"

　　Ignoring him, Zhou Tong turned to Hanzhi. "You've been quiet, girl. Reluctant to go to Nanchang?"

　　Hanzhi's eyes locked on San-shao. "Wherever San-shao goes, I follow."

　　A faint smile touched Zhou Tong's lips. She swept her hand toward the path. "Move out. Follow this road—villages mean food. You hear that, Zhang Facai?"