Industry began in 1937

Colonel Eiichi Ebina's orders were carried out to the letter, or rather, carried out in an almost frenzied manner.

108师团是1937年8月24日，以留守第8师团为基础组建，属于特设师团。

That is, after the full-scale outbreak of the invasion of China, feeling that there were not enough troops, a number of special divisions were set up on the basis of the regular divisions of the Japanese army.

They attempted to solve the problem of China by relying on these two types of divisions.

Therefore, the special divisions are mostly composed of veterans. Although they are not highly capable in combat, they have committed many acts of murder and arson.

He had just arrived in China last year and committed the Plum Blossom Massacre in Gaocheng, Hebei Province in October.

The massacre of 1547 innocent people in Meihua Town resulted in the extermination of 46 households and the burning down of more than 600 houses.

The Zhao County Tofu Shop Massacre (Blood Well Massacre) occurred on the same day as the Plum Blossom Massacre.

The massacre involved the killing of 302 villagers in Doufuzhuang, wiping out 36 households. Most of the victims were pushed into the village well, hence the name "Blood Well Massacre".

At this moment, the 132nd Regiment of the Japanese Army on the northern route, like a wild beast that had been thoroughly enraged but had nowhere to bite, swung its claws even harder at everything that was blocking its advance.

The vanguard intensified its search and reconnaissance efforts, and when encountering suspicious terrain, it first conducted a comprehensive bombardment with grenade launchers and infantry guns.

When encountering narrow passes or difficult-to-pass sections of road, the engineers would advance under the close cover of machine guns and infantry. Although the progress was slow, it did reduce the losses from landmines and sniper fire.

Instead of splitting their forces to capture every hilltop where snipers might be hiding, they forced their way through dangerous areas in dense formations, under cover of intermittent artillery fire, pushing forward relentlessly despite exhaustion.

This aggressive approach to advancement comes at a significant cost.

Landmines remain the biggest nightmare.

Although the Eighth Route Army's landmine tactics at this time were far from reaching the later, more sophisticated and unpredictable level, basic pull-trigger and tripwire mines were still deadly in the hands of soldiers and militiamen familiar with the terrain.

They were buried at road bends, narrow ditch mouths, and flat areas that seemed suitable for troops to take short breaks. Although the triggering devices were simple, they were well-concealed and blended into the surrounding environment.

Engineers must be extremely careful when clearing mines, and every explosion, whether or not it causes casualties, makes the marching troops tense and forces them to stop.

Each pause and moment of confusion almost inevitably drew precise and brief sniper fire from the flanks and high ground, with clear targets: officers, standard bearers, signalmen, and mules.

The casualty figures of the Ebina Regiment silently increased in the staff officer's combat log, and the marching morale was gradually worn down by these repeated bites.

The soldiers began to grow tense and exhausted, and in addition to their usual ferocity, their eyes held a hint of wariness and hidden fear of the silent mountains around them.

They can easily defeat any armed force that appears in front of them and dares to raise its flag, but they can't catch those elusive ghosts in the mountains.

Those ghosts knew every stone and every crevice in the mountains. They used bullets, "border area-made" grenades, and the ever-present threat of death to wear down the morale and strength of the "Imperial Army."

Zhang Juejiu, along with dozens of Red Spear Society members, fled into the deeper mountains in a daze, their hearts filled with lingering fear and confusion.

Driven by the current situation and panic, they gathered together under the banner of "protecting the territory and ensuring the safety of the people," seeking more self-preservation and a sliver of support in the chaotic world than genuinely wanting to fight the fierce Japanese army to the death.

Although there are also ambitious people, like Zhang Juejiu.

When the Japanese skirmishers surged forward like a yellow tide, the Red Spear members finally realized the kind of carnage they had been drawn into.

The precise rifle fire, the gleaming bayonets, the beast-like howls—these were completely different from their society's ritual of "invulnerability" and their experience in dealing with bandits. A single volley of gunfire sent several members at the front of the charge screaming as they fell.

When the Japanese soldiers charged with bayonets, the entire column collapsed instantly, and the red flag was nowhere to be found.

They fled across the mountains and fields, wishing their parents had given them two more legs. All their magic and loyalty vanished in the face of the fear of death.

Zhang Juejiu himself was swept up by the crowd, tumbling and crawling, not even knowing where his ancestral ghost-head saber had gone.

Only after confirming that no "yellow-skinned devils" were chasing them did they dare to stop in a sheltered rocky hollow. They were all pale-faced, panting heavily, and many of them had bloodstains from being scratched by thorns during their escape. Some were so frightened that they collapsed to the ground.

"Ninth... Ninth Master, ghosts, ghosts are not human... they are evil stars sent by the King of Hell!" A young man's teeth chattered, completely unaware that his crotch was wet.

Another middle-aged man touched the burning wound on his cheek where a bullet had grazed him, his eyes unfocused: "We...we can't escape anymore, we've run into the real Grim Reaper..."

Zhang Juejiu leaned against a cold stone, his chest heaving violently. His hand, which had been holding a knife, was empty; only fear gripped his heart.

The ordeal he just experienced shattered all the vain courage he had accumulated over decades of martial arts training and association building.

What "invulnerability"? It was as fragile as a piece of paper in the face of the Japanese army's orderly, cold and efficient massacre.

He witnessed firsthand how his burly, best-fighting brothers were riddled with bullets before the Japanese soldiers even got close.

The sense of powerlessness and the deep-seated fear he felt when faced with overwhelming power were like a cold, venomous snake, piercing through his cotton-padded coat and coiling around his heart.

"Stop...stop howling!" Zhang Juejiu's voice was dry and hoarse as he tried to calm himself, but the fear in his eyes could not be concealed. "This time...this time we've brought this upon ourselves, walking right into the line of fire..." He swallowed hard, looked at the other members of the congregation who were also pale and disoriented, and a huge sense of desolation and confusion welled up in his heart.

Fight? That's suicide. Run? Where can you run to? Go home? Your home might already be occupied by the Japanese.

Just then, two agile men in gray cotton-padded jackets appeared silently above the rocky hollow where they were hiding, like cats. One of them raised his hand, his voice low but clear: "Chairman Zhang, can you still move? Come with us."

Zhang Juejiu was startled. He looked closely and recognized them as members of the Jiangshui Guerrilla Brigade, with whom he had dealt before.

He felt a sense of relief, followed by a surge of immense shame. "It's...it's you all. We've made...we've made a fool of ourselves in front of the brothers. We've really disgraced them."

The guerrilla fighter jumped down, his face calm and without a hint of mockery: "The Japanese are formidable; a direct confrontation will only lead to losses. Captain Hu anticipated that you might be in danger and sent us to keep watch for backup."

"Come with us to a safe place to calm down first, then we'll talk about it later."

Looking at the hopeful yet bewildered eyes of his followers, Zhang Juejiu recalled the ferocious appearance of the Japanese soldiers and the dead brothers, and then considered their current predicament. He sighed deeply, clasped his hands, and said, "Thank you for saving us, Eighth Route Army brothers! We... we are a bunch of good-for-nothings, we'll follow your arrangements."

Ebina Eiichi was unaware of the aftermath of the local armed force he had easily defeated. All his anger and anxiety were focused on the small Eighth Route Army unit that was like a leech, constantly harassing his supply lines.

The frequency of attacks on supply trains is increasing.

More than a dozen mules carrying ammunition were lost, and precious ammunition boxes rolled into the ravine.

The laborers in the transport team kept fleeing or "mysteriously disappearing."

The soldiers in the rearguard and transport units were under immense pressure, and their marching speed slowed down considerably, causing the distance between them and the main force at the front to widen.

What infuriated him even more was that the attackers always seemed to be able to pinpoint the convoy's weakest point—such as when they were passing through treacherous sections of the road or resting and cooking—to launch a sudden attack and then disappear into the vast mountains.

"Baka! These rats! These cowards who only dare to raid the transport team!" Ebina was furious after receiving yet another report of the rear guard being attacked and losing three packhorses.

He understood that his opponent was slowing him down and wearing him down in the most despicable way.

His regiment was like a bull charging into a thicket of thorns, able to break the branches in front of it, but being pierced by countless tiny thorns and bleeding profusely, making each step forward more difficult.

The news that the Southern Route Army had temporarily retreated and reorganized after suffering setbacks at Yuanzhuang River made him feel like a lone army deep in dangerous territory, with its flanks completely exposed to the harassment of the Eighth Route Army.

"Map!" he growled.

The staff officer quickly unfolded the map again.

Ebina's gaze was fixed on the point of "camp".

According to intelligence, it was a relatively large village in this mountainous area, and it was very likely the location of the "Anti-Japanese County Government".

We must take that place as soon as possible, gain a foothold, and re-establish contact with the rear!

"Order!" He made up his mind, no longer bothered by those annoying "rats" in the rear. "First Battalion, continue the all-out breakthrough! At all costs, make sure the vanguard reaches the outer perimeter of Yingtou before nightfall today (January 22nd)! Artillery full support! The entire army's objective—Yingtou! Destroy the enemy's command center!"

He wanted to break the deadlock with a swift and decisive attack, and escape the current predicament by capturing the "enemy's lair".

However, he was unaware that near Yingtou Village, the target he was so eager to reach, and more importantly, in the mountainous area upstream of the Mazhai River, located to the side and rear of Yingtou and guarding the main road to Jiangshui Town, Pan Zhankui and his battalion had already, like patient hunters, built several simple yet deadly defensive positions relying on the treacherous terrain.

They distributed the "Gouzi-made" grenades and bayonets to every platoon, every squad, and even every combat team.

The soldiers lay prone in the cold fortifications, their ears pressed against the ground, as if they could hear the heavy footsteps of the enemy and the faint sound of artillery fire in the distance.