Bright Sword: This unit is really ruthless

"Captain Li? Report?" Zhang Ling was stunned. How come he didn't know about this?

"Why? You don't know yet?" Wang Xikui saw his bewildered face and explained, "You were sent by the higher-ups to help our regiment commander fight the Japanese."

"Assist Li Yunlong in fighting the Japanese?" Zhang Ling smiled bitterly in his heart. As a modern man, what can he do to help Li Yunlong?

"Okay, stop talking for now and come up quickly! This place is very weird. A landslide happened two days ago. If you weren't lucky, you would have died here." Wang Xikui said as he stuffed the light machine gun in his hand into Zhao Gang's arms, then bent down, reached out and pulled Zhang Ling out of the pit.

"Let's go, let's go back first." Zhao Gang said, leading the way forward.

Zhang Ling followed the two people, turned many corners, and finally walked out of the landslide area.

"Old Zhao, do you think this guy was really sent by the higher-ups? Why does it look like he is not the case to me?" Wang Xikui couldn't help asking on the way.

"Whether it looks like it or not, we'll tell you after we meet the captain," Zhao Gang said calmly.

Zhang Ling didn't say anything. He walked while observing the surrounding environment, hoping to find some familiar scenes to determine where he was. Unfortunately, he saw nothing except barren mountains and wilderness.

After walking for about half an hour, they came to a valley. The valley was brightly lit and bursts of singing could be heard faintly.

"The base of our independent regiment is in front of us." Wang Xikui said, pointing to the valley.

Zhang Ling looked up and saw a bright red flag hanging at the entrance of the valley, with the words "Chinese People's Neighborhood Independence Regiment" written in large letters on it.

"Independent Regiment..." Zhang Ling muttered to himself, feeling mixed emotions.

He never imagined that he would actually come to the world of "Drawing Sword" and inexplicably become a member of the independent group.

"Old Zhao, look, isn't that a monk?" Wang Xikui suddenly said, pointing ahead.

Zhang Ling followed his gaze and saw a tall monk standing at the entrance of the valley, seemingly waiting for something.

"Let's go and take a look." Zhao Gang said, quickening his pace.

The three of them came to the monk, and Wang Xikui was the first to ask, "Monk, why are you here? Where is the leader?"

"Amitabha, Deputy Commander Wang, Political Commissar, you are back." The monk put his hands together and bowed slightly. "The Commander is in a meeting and asked me to wait for you here."

"Meeting? What meeting?" Zhao Gang asked.

"It seems to be about..." The monk suddenly stopped talking here and looked at Zhang Ling, "Who is this?"

"His name is Zhang Ling. He was sent by our superiors to help us fight the Japanese." Wang Xikui said first.

"Help us fight the Japanese?" The monk frowned. "Him?"

"What? Monk, what do you mean by this?" Wang Xikui was unhappy, "Do you look down on me?"

"Amitabha, Deputy Captain Wang has misunderstood." The monk shook his head, "It's just that this donor doesn't seem to have any murderous aura, how can he help us fight the Japanese?"

"Murderous intent?" Zhang Ling was stunned. How could he, an ordinary person living in a peaceful era, have murderous intent?

"Okay, monk, stop talking nonsense here." Zhao Gang interrupted the monk and said, "Let's go and see the leader first."

The monk nodded, said no more, turned around and led the three people towards the depths of the valley.

After passing through a forest, they came to a dilapidated temple. The temple was brightly lit and full of noise, as if a grand banquet was being held.

"The captain is inside. You guys go in. I won't go in." After the monk said this, he turned and left.

Zhang Ling took a deep breath and followed Zhao Gang and Wang Xikui into the temple.

As soon as I entered the door, a strong aroma of wine and meat hit my nose. I saw that the main hall of the temple was filled with fish and meat. A group of soldiers in gray military uniforms were sitting around the table, toasting and laughing loudly.

In the center of the hall, there sat a burly, bearded middle-aged man. He was holding a large bowl in his hand and drinking from it. Next to him sat a thin man wearing glasses.

"Commander, Political Commissar, we are back." Zhao Gang walked up to the middle-aged man and saluted.

"Are you back? Well, this is..." The middle-aged man put down his wine bowl, his eyes fell on Zhang Ling, and looked him up and down.

"Report to the head of the group, his name is Zhang Ling, he is..."

Before Zhao Gang could finish his words, he was interrupted by the middle-aged man, "I know that he was sent by the higher-ups to help us fight the Japanese."

"You know?" Zhao Gang was stunned.

"Nonsense, how could I not know that?" The middle-aged man glared at him, "This kid is a treasure, and the higher-ups have specifically told us to take good care of him."

"Baby?" Zhao Gang and Wang Xikui looked at each other, not understanding what the captain was up to.

Zhang Ling was also confused. How did he become a treasure?

"Boy, come here." The middle-aged man waved at Zhang Ling.

Zhang Ling hesitated for a moment, but still walked over.

"What can you do, kid?" asked the middle-aged man.

"I..." Zhang Ling opened his mouth, but didn't know how to answer.

"Forget it, I won't embarrass you anymore." The middle-aged man waved his hand, "How about this, from today on, you will follow me and be my guard."

"Guard?" Zhang Ling widened his eyes.

He is a time traveler, but he has to be a bodyguard for Li Yunlong?

This is too...

"who?!"

Two soldiers, holding loaded Type 38 rifles, looked vigilantly toward the bottom of the pit in the moonlight.

Zhang Ling raised his hands, trying to look harmless: "Don't shoot, we're one of you!"

"One of our own? Why are you down there in the middle of the night?" one of the soldiers asked suspiciously.

"It's a long story, hard to tell in one sentence!" Zhang Ling said with a wry smile, "Brother, please pull me up first, this damn place is very weird!"

The two soldiers looked at each other, one of them put the gun behind his back and let go of the rope on his body, while the other remained alert.

"Hold the rope!"

Zhang Ling grabbed the rope and with the help of the soldiers, climbed out of the collapsed pit with great effort.

As soon as he landed, one of the soldiers held a bayonet to his throat.

"Tell me! Who are you? Why are you in the independent regiment's defense zone?" the soldier asked sternly, his tone full of hostility.

Zhang Ling was startled by this sudden change, but soon calmed down. He realized that in this war-torn era, any suspicious behavior could lead to death, not to mention that he was now in the defense zone of the Eighth Route Army and his identity was unknown, so he needed to be more cautious.

"Brother, calm down first. I am one of you!" Zhang Ling tried to speak in a calm tone. "My name is Zhang Ling. I was sent by the Central Committee. I have important information to share with Captain Li Yunlong!"

"Sent by the Central Government?" The two soldiers were obviously skeptical about this statement and looked at each other.

"Yes, sent by the Central Government!" Zhang Ling nodded affirmatively. To increase credibility, he reached out and took out a pocket watch from his arms. "This is my ID. You can take a look."

The soldier took the pocket watch, examined it carefully, and asked doubtfully, "Why did the Central Committee send you here?"

Zhang Ling took a deep breath and decided to take a gamble: "I came here this time under the instruction of my superiors to deliver a report on the latest movements of the Japanese army to Captain Li Yunlong. This is a matter of great importance and must be handed over to Captain Li as soon as possible!"

"The latest movement of the Japanese army?" Upon hearing this, the two soldiers' expressions suddenly became solemn.

"That's right!" Zhang Ling said firmly, "This intelligence is very important. It is related to our army's next strategic deployment and may even affect the direction of the entire battle!"

The two fighters exchanged glances again, seemingly weighing the pros and cons.

"Okay, come with us!" Finally, the soldier who had been holding the bayonet against Zhang Ling's throat finally put down his weapon. "But you'd better make sure what you say is true, otherwise..."

"I understand!" Zhang Ling nodded. He knew that the real test was coming.

The two soldiers took Zhang Ling through the intricate trenches and finally came to a hidden cave.

"Report! Wang Xikui and Ma Sanshun, soldiers of the first platoon of the second company, are reporting with suspicious persons!"

"Come in!"

A deep voice came from the cave.

Wang Xikui pushed open the door of the cave and Zhang Ling followed him in.

A dim oil lamp was lit in the cave. With the weak light, Zhang Ling saw a burly middle-aged man with a square face, thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a short flat head sitting at the table, looking down at a telegram.

This person was the political commissar of the independent regiment—Zhao Gang.

"Are you Zhang Ling?" Zhao Gang raised his head and his sharp eyes fell on Zhang Ling, as if he wanted to see through him.

"It's me!" Zhang Ling answered neither humbly nor arrogantly. He knew that the man in front of him was a tough guy. Even Li Yunlong in the TV series had to give him some respect.

"You said you were sent by the Central Committee and you want to meet with Captain Li for important information?" Zhao Gang put down the telegram in his hand and asked in a serious tone.

"It's absolutely true!" Zhang Ling took out the intelligence from his arms and handed it over with both hands. "This is important intelligence I got from the Japanese army. Please take a look, Political Commissar!"

Zhao Gang took the information and read it carefully.

As time passed, the atmosphere in the cave became more and more depressing.

Zhang Ling's heartbeat accelerated. He didn't know whether his move was right or wrong, nor did he know what was waiting for him.

"Who is it?!" Two soldiers held their guns and looked down into the pit in the moonlight.

Zhang Ling did not dare to be careless. He raised the Type 38 rifle in his hand, pointed the muzzle upward, and shouted loudly: "We are one! I was blown into a pit by the Japanese artillery shells!"

"One of our own?" One of the soldiers asked suspiciously, "Which unit are you from? Why haven't I seen you before?"