Yan Dong was walking in the 2025 military parade square, and the national flag passed before his eyes. He was suddenly in the suburbs of Hengyang in 1943.
The individual soldier rations and tactical daggers were still in the backpack, but the smartphone only had 20% battery left.
He witnessed a child being shot through the chest by a stray bullet from the Japanese army and his old schoolbag stained with blood.
In front of the recruitment office of the Tenth Army, the scrawny peasants queuing up were in ironic contrast to the slogans in the city that read, "Swear to live and die with Hengyang." The chief of staff sneered at him: "Modern soldiers? Can they stop artillery shells?"
When the street fighting was at its worst, he played the national anthem on his mobile phone and raised the blood-stained national flag amidst the ruins.
"Tell the Japanese—" his hoarse roar came from behind the burning rubble, "Seventy years later, Chinese soldiers will still be walking on Chang'an Street!"
