The Flames of Resistance Against Japan in Jiangnan

Pushing aside the stone at the cave entrance, the biting north wind seeped into the gaps in his clothes, causing him to shiver. Wang Xiaoming, however, instantly regained his energetic demeanor as the regimental commander and shouted outside:

"Old Li, is there anything to eat?"

Cook Lao Li hurriedly emerged from another cave, carrying a dark, unremarkable earthenware pot, and said to Wang Xiaoming with a smile:

"Secretary, we're having wild boar meat today, and it's been stewing for an hour."

"Wild boar meat? Who went hunting in the mountains? Orders were given long ago not to waste bullets. Who, who violated the rules?"

Wang Xiaoming angrily waved his arms and roared at the cook, he was truly out of his mind. "Firing guns on the mountain, aren't we just inviting the white dogs over?"

This time, Old Li was confident, knowing that all these things came from legitimate sources, so he wasn't intimidated by Wang Xiaoming. Besides, he was a veteran of the Red Army, and since they were all from the same village, he was actually Wang Xiaoming's elder.

After being yelled at by Wang Xiaoming, he wasn't annoyed at all; instead, he just smiled and said:

“Secretary, you’re wronging an innocent man. This is a wild boar that those comrades from Jiangnan who came last night killed early this morning on the hillside. They didn’t use a gun.”

"A trap? They've got some clever tricks up their sleeves. Even when they come to our Hubei, Henan, and Anhui provinces as guests, they don't trust our food. Oh well, I was going to treat them to sweet potatoes, but I guess they won't like them. I'll just accept their offer for now."

Wang Xiaoming's expression softened, and he thought to himself, why was he so easily angered? The gunshots were fired right there in the small village nestled in the mountains; how could the other man not hear them?

The cold air and the aroma of meat filled the air. Wang Xiaoming swallowed hard and said to Old Li:

"Call the other comrades over, let's all eat together."

Old Li carefully placed the casserole on the stone, touched his earlobes with both hands, stamped his feet, and said nonchalantly:

"They sent over half a wild boar, weighing over 100 jin (50 kg), and it's already been distributed. Everyone's having a good feast. This is your share. But if you're willing to contribute, I doubt the others will refuse and will be happy to come and eat with you."

Upon hearing this, Wang Xiaoming, since everyone had received some, stopped refusing. After all, he hadn't eaten meat in a long time. He carefully lifted the lid of the clay pot, and a burst of steam, carrying a rich aroma of meat, wafted out. Following the steam, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and remained motionless for a long time, seemingly savoring the delicious flavor.

"Eat quickly! It won't taste good if it gets cold. Speaking of which, we are really grateful for the kindness of that comrade. He even prepared salt for us and brought it over. Otherwise, we would have had to add some wild onions to remove the fishy smell."

Old Li kept rambling on and on, then turned around to prepare pumpkin soup for Wang Xiaoming.

There was no other way; this was the situation in Hubei, Henan, and Anhui. The base area was located in a mountainous region where food was extremely scarce. If it weren't for the use of coarse grains, many people probably wouldn't even be able to guarantee two meals of thin porridge.

"Come on, Old Li, share half with whoever sees it."

As he spoke, Wang Xiaoming placed several large pieces of meat into another bowl and handed it to Old Li. Wang Xiaoming looked at Old Li with interest and asked:

"Tell me, how did the comrades of the 19th Division manage to catch this wild boar?"

As he spoke, he picked up a piece of white wild boar meat with his chopsticks, stuffed it into his mouth, and though it was scalding hot, he couldn't bear to spit it out. He stiffened his neck and swallowed it down. Old Li looked at Wang Xiaoming with heartache. He was originally a well-off family's student, but because of the revolution, his entire family of six had died at the hands of the enemy, leaving him without food or clothing. Looking at the meat in his own bowl, he sighed and muttered softly:

"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you. I'll make you some meat soup when you get back tonight."

"If I tell you to eat, then you eat. Even if you cook it for dinner, I won't eat it."

Wang Xiaoming's stubborn temper flared up, and he immediately said unhappily.

Seeing that Old Li had also started eating, Wu Huanxian happily said:

"Alright, alright. With the New Year approaching, let's treat this as an early celebration. In previous years, we didn't even have such good food for the New Year."

Old Li is nearly fifty. His sons all died in battle while serving in the Red Army, and his wife is gone too. Now, he's all alone. People in the mountains age quickly; as he gets older, he likes to ramble on, and he can't help but say:

"The comrades of the 19th Division are truly remarkable. This wild boar was unlucky; it fell into their trap and got caught on its leg. What's that one called? Right, Comrade Bian, use a knife."

Old Li gestured to indicate the length, saying it was slightly longer than chopsticks.

"He killed a live wild boar with just a few cuts. It was a wild boar weighing three or four hundred pounds, and Comrade Bian didn't even get a scratch on its skin..."

As he spoke, he kept making mumbling noises, trying to express how nervous he was at the time, but he didn't know where to begin.

Wang Xiaoming stared wide-eyed in amazement:

"What? You killed a live wild boar with a dagger?"

He simply couldn't believe it; these soldiers' audacity yesterday wasn't without reason—they were acting like complete madmen. He knew how strong a wild boar was, and its sharp tusks; getting stabbed would definitely cause serious injury.

He poured half a bowl of pumpkin porridge into the meat broth, tilted his head back, and drank it all down. Then he hurriedly headed towards the temporary campsite of the 19th Division's special operations team.

Upon entering the gate, he noticed a ticking sound coming from inside, like a telegraph being sent. He had also noticed this yesterday; the special agent team carried its own radio, but strangely, their telegraph machine was much smaller and more agile than the one provided to them. It was actually quite easy to understand.

The special operations team's radio had a lower power output, while the radio sent to Hubei, Henan, and Anhui provinces had a higher power output.

Bian Jie had just finished receiving a telegram from the division headquarters when suddenly the light dimmed. He looked up and saw Wang Xiaoming walk into the room.

Bian Ji quickly stood up and saluted Wang Xiaoming:

"Greetings, Commander!"

"You know how to use a radio?"

Wang Xiaoming asked curiously.

The border guard explained apologetically:

"I have a low level of education and learn slowly. Actually, half of the members in our team know it, but today I am on communications duty."

Wang Xiaoming waved his hand and said with a smile:

"Don't keep calling me 'commander,' it's better to call each other 'comrade.' By the way, I also want to thank you for the wild boar meat. I haven't tasted meat for more than half a year, and this time I finally got to satisfy my craving. But I was quite surprised by your skills! You dared to fight a wild boar with your bare hands. You know, wild boars are strong and have thick skin, so they are not easy to deal with."

"It's nothing, all the members of our team can do it."

I remember back then, our division commander sent us alone in the mountains for a month, without any supplies, just a gun, ten bullets, a dagger, and a canteen. And we couldn't lose weight after a month, or we'd be eliminated. Even the bullets were regulated; if we were short one, we'd lose one point, and if we ran out of points, we'd have to go back to our old unit.