Chapter 114: Impulsiveness Is the Devil

There was also a most practical problem to consider: the distance from Kaiyuan to Changtu was half that of the distance from Fengtian to Changtu. The Russians had already been marching for a day, while Yang Xiaolin was only just setting off. Could he possibly reach Changtu before them?

Yang Xiaolin did not wait for him to raise further objections. He folded the map and tucked it away. "Brother Tang, keep firing toward Fengtian City with your men. Tomorrow morning, take a detour and strike toward Liaoyang from Liaozhong. Remember, do not get bogged down in combat with the enemy. Just keep up the noise under my banner and lead them on a chase. I am heading north to intercept the Russian reinforcements. The further you draw Zeng Qi and the Russian commander away, the more certain I am of victory. How about it?"

Tang Yulin patted his chest. "Don't you worry, Brother Yang. I spent several years in Liaozhong when I was younger. I know that area like the back of my hand. Those Russians won't be able to catch me."

Yang Xiaolin nodded, saying no more. "Nier, Jin Dadao! Gather the men!"

Changtu is what we now know as the Tieling region. After the Manchu Qing dynasty conquered the realm, they designated this area as an imperial hunting ground, intended exclusively for the Banner people, so the terrain was naturally rugged and difficult.

If we were talking about today, taking the national highway would cover eighty-some kilometers, and a train ride would take little more than half an hour. It sounds close, but the problem was that Yang Xiaolin had no highways to travel and no trains to ride; he had to traverse mountains and ridges.

After a simple meal and stuffing a few steamed buns into their pockets, they began their grueling march. Setting out shortly after ten in the morning, the bandits sprinted through the mountain forests at a speed of seven kilometers per hour. For sixteen hours straight, they took only intermittent breaks totaling less than two hours.

At three o'clock the next morning, they finally blocked the Russian reinforcements at Changtu. This pace astonished Asō Naofu, who was running alongside the bandits.

Yang Xiaolin lay on the cold stones of the hillside, watching the Russian camp below. It was silent; the Russians were clearly resting. Asō Naofu caught up from behind, stopping beside Yang Xiaolin to catch his breath before whispering, "Xiaolin-kun, your troops are truly remarkable. You have created another miracle. Nearly two hundred li, and you arrived in less than a day. Even our Imperial Japanese Army could not accomplish this."

Yang Xiaolin looked at him. "You are too kind, Asō-kun. If anything, we are still the apprentices, and you Japanese are the masters. There is still much we must learn from you in the future, and I hope the Japanese side will not hesitate to provide guidance."

Asō Naofu replied, "As long as our cooperation remains pleasant, I believe both sides will be satisfied. Xiaolin-kun, where do you intend to ambush these Russians?"

Yang Xiaolin paused, pulled a steamed bun from his tunic to take a few bites, and took a sip of water. "What do you think?"

Asō Naofu pondered. "Ambushing from that hill behind us would be effective. The Russians will certainly pass through there tomorrow."

Yang Xiaolin smiled. "I have changed my mind. An ambush is meant to catch the opponent off guard! Look at the Russians below; their guard is not tight. It is clear they never expected us to arrive at this time. This is the moment of greatest surprise—why wait until tomorrow?"

Asō Naofu was shocked. "Xiaolin-kun, your troops just finished a forced march. Are they capable of entering battle now?"

His form of address had shifted significantly; Asō Naofu now referred to these bandits as "troops." Yang Xiaolin’s mind was made up. The bandits were tired, yes, but the Russians, suddenly roused from their sleep, would have their combat effectiveness significantly diminished.

"Biaozi! Creep up to the front!"

Biaozi answered, "Yes!"

The bandits of the Third Company lay on the ground, using the crawling technique Yang Xiaolin had taught them. Their bodies pressed against the cold earth, they slid forward through the grass with a soft rustling sound.

As the Third Company began its movement, the First Company moved from the left, the Second from the right, and the Fifth followed behind the Third, all silently closing in on the Russian camp. The Fourth Company had suffered heavy casualties during the breakout; although Yang Xiaolin had supplemented them with new recruits after taking several mines, these men had not yet undergone systematic training. They were held in the rear as a reserve, but now they needed to experience the atmosphere of a real, major battle.

Biaozi’s eyes were fixed on the gate of the Russian camp, while he vigilantly scanned the surroundings for hidden sentries. Erganzi, leading the charge, was still chewing on his steamed bun. Seeing they were only seventy meters from the camp, he grew excited, swallowed the rest of his food, and signaled for the men behind him to stop.

Once the main force halted, Erganzi pulled his short blade from his waistband and held it between his teeth. He unscrewed the cap of a hand grenade, gripped his rifle, and crept forward alone.

Biaozi watched Erganzi’s body drawing closer to the gate, his heart in his throat.

As Erganzi reached the gate, a Russian suddenly shouted, and a shot rang out, striking the ground just ahead of Erganzi’s head. Without hesitation, Erganzi hurled the grenade and scrambled backward.

The explosion of that grenade signaled the start of the battle. Suddenly, gunfire erupted. Biaozi no longer hid; he sprang to his feet, hunched over, and charged forward. "Brothers! Follow me and kill the Old Maos!"

The bandits unleashed their accumulated rage with a chaotic array of firearms toward the enemy gate. Volleys of grenades traced arcs through the air, creating a smokescreen of dust and debris in front of the Russian camp.

Erganzi scrambled up from the ground, shouting like a beast released from a cage as he charged ahead. He frantically worked his bolt-action rifle, firing blindly at the gate. The brothers around him did the same. These soldiers had accumulated their own experience in battle; they knew that the primary objective was not how many enemies they killed, but to charge in quickly and shatter the Russians' psychological resolve.

The gunfire was as intense as a blast furnace. The Russians reacted quickly; a small detachment blocked the gate, resisting desperately to prevent the bandits from reaching their camp. A grenade exploded near Erganzi, throwing him off balance and shaking his very core, but he paid it no mind and continued to charge.

It was not out of sheer bravery, but because he had no time to consider anything else—the intensity of the battle left no room for thought. A soft cry came from nearby, and Erganzi saw a brother fall to the ground, a dark liquid—blood—oozing from his tattered clothes.

Erganzi threw another grenade. This one landed inside the gate, followed by several screams, and the makeshift wooden gate began to sway.

Seizing the moment when the Russian fire slackened, Biaozi performed a clean, decisive leap and was the first to vault into the Russian camp, vanishing into the smoke Erganzi’s grenade had just created.

Seeing Biaozi inside, the other bandits surged forward. After a short, intense melee, the camp gate was captured.

The Russians inside were clearly panicked. Many had just scrambled from their bedding without even dressing properly. The fighting rapidly spread into the depths of the camp. The First and Second Companies followed, the sharp, low thuds of grenades blending with the bandits' war cries as the battle seemed to progress smoothly.

However, the Russians still outnumbered the bandits more than three to one.

Yang Xiaolin’s surprise attack had indeed given the bandits a significant advantage, and half of the Russian encampment had been taken in less than twenty minutes. But as the remaining Russians shook off their panic, the battle became much harder to fight.

The Russians began to reorganize their formation, utilizing every defensive position and unleashing dense, fierce fire that pinned the charging bandits down. The isolated Russian squads relied on walls and corners to fight back desperately, and Biaozi found himself unable to advance a single step further.

Before long, the Russian artillery began to fire. Given how close the two sides were—in some places, they were locked in hand-to-hand combat—the use of artillery meant the Russians were willing to stop at nothing.

From the hillside, Yang Xiaolin could tell by the sound of the gunfire that the battle was turning against his men. If this raid turned into a prolonged war of attrition, he would have no way of defeating the Russians.

Asō Naofu remarked from the side, "Xiaolin-kun, you should retreat now. You have already dealt a heavy blow to this Russian force, and they can no longer serve as reinforcements. I believe there is no need to take such risks."

This remark annoyed Yang Xiaolin. He had brought Asō along to demonstrate his capabilities so that when the Japanese and Russians went to war, the Japanese would treat him with more caution and grant him the respect he deserved in future dealings. If he stopped halfway, what was the point?

"The battle isn't over yet. Why would I retreat? Qian Yao!"

Qian Yao stood at attention. "Boss, do you need us?"

Yang Xiaolin nodded. "Tell the brothers to pick up their rifles! Those who can shoot, load your ammunition; those who can't, fix your bayonets. Follow me!"

He was going to lead the charge himself. Yang Xiaolin knew the Fourth Company’s combat effectiveness was weak, and in such a situation, the leader’s presence could bolster their courage.

His target was the rear of the Russian force. His initial plan had been to strike from three sides, leaving one side open so the Russians would flee in panic, allowing him to hunt them down. He had not expected them to hold their ground. The gap he left had provided the Russians with a place to regroup. It seemed he had been too careless, fueled by a string of recent victories that had made him arrogant. That was not good, as he realized now. But since the two sides were already locked in combat, this was no time for regrets. He had to keep moving, bravely pull the trigger, and risk death to take down the enemy!