Chapter 8: Wen Song's Choice

Every Red Army soldier who witnessed the scene on both banks of the Xiang River was reduced to tears. Some pounded their heads with their fists, some slumped to the ground as if every ounce of strength had been drained from their bodies, and others stared with bloodshot eyes, as if flames were burning within them.

Wen Song watched this scene as well. After a long silence, he turned his head away, squatted on the ground, and remained speechless, lost in deep thought.

"Damn them to hell!"

Yang Gang wanted to shout, but they dared not make a sound. If they were exposed at this moment, they would be surrounded and annihilated by the Nationalist forces.

After the silence, Long Wencheng’s voice broke the stillness.

"Comrades, I will lead you across the river!"

His voice was steady and powerful, carrying an unquestionable certainty. Yet, everyone knew that crossing the river would be as difficult as ascending to heaven.

Originally, the Red Army had controlled four ferry crossings. Now, even the last one, Fenghuangzui, had been captured by the Nationalist forces. With all four crossings in the hands of the enemy, how could crossing be anything but a monumental task?

They would need to capture at least one crossing, eliminate all the enemy troops stationed there, and manage to hold off enemy reinforcements throughout the entire crossing process. To attempt this was essentially a death sentence.

"I will help you cross," Wen Song said, looking at the men with red, swollen eyes.

His voice only drew everyone’s attention to him. Xiao Shitou pulled back his rifle bolt again, his eyes blazing with fury as he glared at Wen Song.

"You white bandit, shut your mouth!" Yang Gang growled.

Long Wencheng looked over, his hand resting on Xiao Shitou’s submachine gun.

"How will you help?"

Wen Song replied, "You have uniforms from the Gui clique. The troops holding the ferry are also from the Gui clique. I will tell them you are my men, and that we need to enter the ferry area to rest. Once they fall asleep tonight, you can take the boats to the other side."

This was indeed the best plan. If they attempted a forced assault, the moment the first shot was fired, the troops on the opposite bank would be alerted. They would only need to set up a few heavy machine guns on the shore to wipe out Long Wencheng’s 18th Regiment in the middle of the Xiang River.

"Why should we trust you?" asked Battalion Commander Tian Lixin, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses.

Wen Song knelt down and bowed his head repeatedly toward the Xiang River. "I, Wen Song, swear to Heaven: if I break my promise, let my family line end with me!"

In this era, people rarely dared to swear by their families. Making such a vicious oath showed that Wen Song had made a firm resolution.

Long Wencheng exchanged glances with his battalion commanders before looking back at Wen Song. "I will prepare for two outcomes. If your negotiations fail or if you choose to betray us, my men will eliminate every single Nationalist soldier at the ferry, leaving no one alive—including you."

Wen Song nodded heavily and looked at Long Wencheng again. "However, you must provide me with some money."

"Money?"

"Yes, for bribes. Small and large gold bars work best; otherwise, they might not let you enter the ferry to rest."

Long Wencheng pondered for a moment before saying, "Very well. I will act as your adjutant, and Xiao Shitou will be your guard. If you try anything, we will take you down with us—nobody leaves here alive."

The "gold bars" were, in fact, gold, which Long Wencheng possessed, having seized them from the headquarters of the 138th Regiment. As for the 177th Regiment, Wen Song seemed to have little interest in money; his personal belongings were mostly weapons.

Meanwhile, Long Wencheng arranged for First Battalion Commander Qi Delong and Second Battalion Commander Yang Gang to prepare for a head-on confrontation. Third Battalion Commander Tian Lixin was tasked with leading the wounded, Huang Kecheng, and the craftsmen in the rear.

Throughout the day, the Nationalist troops cleared corpses along the river. A vast number of Red Army soldiers' remains were pushed into the Xiang River, to be swept away and submerged by the surging currents. By late afternoon, the corpses along the banks had been roughly cleared, but the land on both sides had long been stained a deep, dark red with blood.

The Nationalist forces on the east bank did not linger; they turned eastward to search for the remaining Red Army units. As for the Fenghuangzui ferry, a single battalion of the Gui clique was left to guard it.

The most intense fighting had ended, and the battalion guarding the ferry was not particularly vigilant. They had only dug a few simple foxholes on the perimeter, not even bothering to dig communication trenches. After all, cleaning up so many bodies throughout the day had left these soldiers exhausted.

When night fell, around ten o'clock, Long Wencheng and his men, dressed in the captured Gui clique uniforms, arrived at the perimeter of the Fenghuangzui ferry.

"Halt! Which unit?"

A stern voice rang out in the darkness. Long Wencheng nudged Wen Song with the Mauser pistol in his hand.

Wen Song stepped forward and replied in a heavy Southwestern dialect: "I am Colonel Wen Song of the 177th Regiment. We have been pursuing the Red Army all night and need to enter the ferry area to rest. Which unit are you with?"

Hearing this, the man emerged from the darkness, carrying several kerosene lamps, followed by four or five soldiers. He glanced at the rank on Wen Song’s shoulder and hurriedly saluted.

"Reporting, sir! We are from the Third Battalion of the 189th Regiment, stationed here by order to prevent any remnants of the Red Army from crossing."

Hearing the unit designation, Wen Song felt a weight lift from his heart.

"So, you're from the 189th. How is your regimental commander, 'Old Dog' Lei? The last time I saw him, we were drinking together at the Wanhe Tower in Guilin."

With a few words, he conveyed several pieces of crucial information to the squad leader. Sure enough, hearing the regimental commander's nickname and the mention of the Wanhe Tower, the squad leader no longer doubted Wen Song's identity.

"Our Colonel has taken the main force east to clear out the remaining Red bandits. Please wait here, Colonel Wen; I will go report to our Battalion Commander."

The squad leader turned and hurried toward the ferry.

Before long, a plump, clean-looking Gui clique battalion commander came trotting over. He clearly recognized Wen Song.

"Oh, Colonel Wen! Long time no see. I poured you a drink at the Wanhe Tower once. I’m Lei Baojun, the Colonel’s younger brother."

After saluting, Lei Baojun spoke eagerly. Wen Song replied with cool indifference, "Ah, Brother Lei. I remember you. Your brother, 'Old Dog' Lei, speaks very highly of you, saying you are the most promising of all his brothers."

Lei Baojun quickly said, "That is too kind, sir. I have some decent wine here; why don’t we have a few drinks tonight?"