Bright Sword: This unit is really ruthless

Zhang Ling looked around, and the predicament in front of him calmed him down. He had to find a way out as soon as possible, otherwise, everything would be in vain.

Thinking of this, he stood up again and began to search for hope of escape more carefully.

Suddenly, his hand touched a cold and hard object. With the weak light, he saw clearly that it was a rifle!

A Type 38 rifle!

"Haha, there is always a way out!" Zhang Ling was overjoyed. He pulled hard and pulled the rifle out of the pile of dirt.

This rifle had obviously been buried for a long time, and the gun body was rusty, but Zhang Ling could still feel its cold metal texture.

He pulled the bolt and a bullet fired.

"Bang!" The crisp gunshot was particularly loud in the silent tunnel, and also alarmed the two soldiers not far away.

"who?!"

Two figures approached with guns raised, warily...

"Who is it?!" Two soldiers, holding guns, approached Zhang Ling cautiously in the moonlight. Zhang Ling did not dare to act rashly. He knew that in this era, if he could not explain himself clearly, he might be regarded as an enemy. He stood up slowly, trying to make himself look harmless, raised his hands, and said in standard Mandarin: "Don't shoot, fellow villagers, I am one of you!"

One of the soldiers was tall, with a square face, thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a full beard. He looked hot-tempered. He asked in a gruff voice, "One of us? Why are you in the middle of the night in this wilderness?"

The other soldier was relatively thin, wearing a pair of round-framed glasses, and looked gentle. He pushed his glasses and asked, "Yes, comrade, what's your name? Which unit are you from?"

Zhang Ling secretly groaned. How could he know which unit he was near? He couldn't say that he had "traveled through time"? He suddenly had an idea and pointed at the Type 38 rifle and said, "I was passing by here and saw this gun. I thought it must have been lost by one of us, so I thought of picking it up. Maybe I can use it to kill a few devils..."

The bearded soldier looked at him suspiciously, walked forward, snatched the rifle from Zhang Ling's hand, examined it carefully, and said, "Hey, it really is the rifle of our independent regiment! I recognize this rifle, it belongs to Zhang Da Ge from the third company of the second battalion. This guy said he lost his gun during his last mission, so I had to compensate him with a Hanyang rifle. I didn't expect it to be here!"

Zhang Ling was secretly delighted. It seemed that he had accidentally come to the territory of the Independent Regiment. It must be God’s help!

The thin soldier also came over and asked, "Comrade, since you have seen this gun, have you seen the big guy Zhang from my third company? He is a tall man with a loud voice. If you see him, you will definitely recognize him!"

Zhang Ling shook his head and pretended to be confused and said, "No, I only saw this gun, and there was no one else around."

The bearded soldier slapped his thigh and cursed, "This big guy Zhang is such a troublemaker! Not only did he lose his gun, but he's also missing. If the political commissar finds out, he'll be skinned alive!"

The thin soldier sighed and said, "Okay, Lao Li, stop complaining and report this to the political commissar. Maybe Zhang Da Ge is in some trouble."

The bearded soldier nodded and said to Zhang Ling, "Don't just stand there, come with us. We'll have to trouble you to explain to the political commissar what's going on."

Zhang Ling naturally would not refuse. He was eager to meet Li Yunlong and Zhao Gang as soon as possible so that he could find a way to join the independent regiment and realize his wish of fighting against the Japanese.

The three of them walked towards the independent regiment's base. Along the way, the bearded soldier kept complaining about Zhang Da Ge, while the thin soldier interrupted from time to time, trying to speak a few words for Zhang Da Ge. Zhang Ling listened silently at the side, occasionally agreeing with them, trying not to arouse their suspicion.

The independent regiment's base was located in a remote mountain valley, surrounded by dense forests, which was easy to defend but difficult to attack. Zhang Ling followed the two soldiers to a simple wooden house. The bearded soldier knocked on the door and shouted in a rough voice: "Report to the political commissar, the soldiers Wang Xikui and Ma Baoyu from the second company of the first battalion have important information to report!"

"Come in!" A deep voice came from the room.

Wang Xikui pushed open the door and walked in with Zhang Ling and Ma Baoyu.

There was a dim oil lamp lit in the room. With the faint light, Zhang Ling saw a middle-aged man in military uniform, with a burly build and a resolute face, sitting at the table, holding a book in his hands and reading it intently.

"Political Commissar, we have caught a suspicious person!" Wang Xikui pointed at Zhang Ling and said.

Zhao Gang raised his head and cast a sharp gaze on Zhang Ling. He looked him up and down and asked, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Zhang Ling took a deep breath. He knew that whether he could stay in the independent regiment would depend on his next speech...

"who?!"

The two soldiers held guns and looked at Zhang Ling at the bottom of the pit vigilantly in the dim light from the tunnel entrance.

Zhang Ling stood up slowly, and with the dim light, he could see the two men's attire - gray cloth military uniforms and Eighth Route Army caps on their heads. One of them was short and stocky, with a square face, thick eyebrows and big eyes, holding a Hanyang rifle in his hand; the other was tall and thin, wearing a pair of round-framed glasses, looking very literary, and holding a Zhongzheng rifle in his hand.

"Don't shoot, we're on the same side!" Zhang Ling raised his hands to indicate that he had no ill intentions.

"One of our own? Where did you come from? How come you are here..." The short and strong soldier obviously didn't believe Zhang Ling's words. He looked Zhang Ling up and down, his eyes full of suspicion.

Zhang Ling's clothes were tattered and his face was covered in dirt. He didn't look like a soldier of the Eighth Route Army at all.

"I...I fell from above." Zhang Ling made up an excuse.

"Fell down? We have people patrolling this tunnel entrance every day, how come we have never seen you?" The tall and thin soldier pushed his glasses, with a hint of doubt in his tone.

"I..." Zhang Ling was speechless for a moment. He couldn't say that he had traveled through time, right?

"Lao Wang, stop asking questions and pull him up first!" The short and strong soldier seemed a little impatient. He put the Hanyang rifle in his hand behind his back, bent down, and prepared to pull Zhang Ling up.

"Wait!" Zhang Ling suddenly thought of something, and he said quickly, "I...I think I sprained my foot and I can't move!"

"Twisted your ankle?" The short and strong soldier looked at Zhang Ling suspiciously, "Are you playing some tricks?"

"Lao Wang, it's better to be safe than sorry. You should ask first." The tall and thin soldier was obviously much more cautious than the short and strong one.

"Hey, let me tell you..." The short and strong soldier wanted to say something, but was interrupted by the tall and thin soldier.

"Comrade, don't be nervous. We have no ill intentions." The tall and thin soldier tried to make his tone sound gentler. "Which unit are you from? How did you end up here?"

Zhang Ling secretly complained in his heart, what unit is he from? If he knew the unit number, would he still need to make up lies here?

"I..." Zhang Ling's eyes turned, and a plan came to his mind, "I am from the Central Army, 358th Regiment!"

"358th Regiment?" The tall and thin soldier frowned. "Never heard of it?"

"Lao Wang, have you heard about it?" The tall and thin soldier turned to look at the short and strong soldier.

"358th Regiment? Never heard of it. There doesn't seem to be any Central Army troops around here?" The short and strong soldier scratched his head, looking confused.

Zhang Ling was secretly proud of himself. He knew that in this era, the unit numbers often changed. As long as he insisted that he was from the Central Army, these two people would have no way of verifying it.

"I...I was on a mission and was chased by the devils. I accidentally fell here." Zhang Ling pretended to be weak and said intermittently, "I have been trapped here for several days..."

"To carry out a mission?" The tall and thin soldier slammed the Zhongzheng rifle in his hand to the ground, put his hands on his hips, and said in a serious tone, "What mission? Tell me!"

Zhang Ling's heart skipped a beat. How would he know what the mission was?

"This..." Zhang Ling hesitated and couldn't speak for a long time.

"What? You can't even say this?" The tall and thin soldier said in a more severe tone, "I think you are suspicious, are you a spy for the Japanese?"

"Spy?!" Upon hearing this, the short and strong soldier immediately pointed the Hanyang rifle in his hand at Zhang Ling, his eyes wide open, "Tell me! Who are you? If you don't tell me, I'll shoot you dead!"

Zhang Ling suddenly felt a chill running from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He had no doubt that if he couldn't give them a reasonable explanation, these two people would really shoot him to death!

How to do?

"who?!"

Two figures were holding guns. In the moonlight, Zhang Ling could see clearly their attire. They were wearing gray military uniforms, the style of the Eighth Route Army. One of them was wearing a pair of glasses and looked very gentle. The other was big and strong, with a full beard, and was holding a light machine gun in his hand.

"Our own people! Our own people!" Zhang Ling quickly raised his hands to indicate that he had no ill intentions.

"One of our own? Why are you here in the middle of the night?" the bearded man asked vigilantly, still holding the machine gun in his hand.

"It's a long story. I was being chased by the devils and accidentally fell into this pit." Zhang Ling briefly explained, "Which unit are you two from?"

"We are from the independent regiment. My name is Wang Xikui, and this is our political commissar Zhao Gang." The bearded man put down his gun and looked Zhang Ling up and down. "You look unfamiliar, what's your name?"

"Zhang Ling."

"Zhang Ling?" Zhao Gang pushed his glasses, as if recalling something. "I remember today that Commander Li said that there seemed to be a comrade named Zhang Ling who was going to report to our independent regiment. Could it be you?"