In the autumn of 1937, Liuhe Village, Linhai City. The Japanese army's butcher knife fell, and three hundred lives were reduced to charred bones. Blacksmith apprentice Jiang Yuheng crawled out of the pile of corpses, his legs cut off by shrapnel. Gritting his broken teeth, he dragged his remaining body with his hands, climbed over the barbed wire fence, and climbed into the British Concession. In the Ministry of Industry Bureau of the Concession, foreigners drank red wine and watched jokes: "What kind of trouble can a cripple make?" Yamamoto Koki, the head of the Japanese military secret service, sneered: "The iron in Linhai City can only make Japanese cannons." Jiang Yuheng said nothing. In the slum blacksmith shop, he melted spent bullet casings into gun barrels and used bicycle chains to modify the firing pins. When the first bullet penetrated the forehead of the Japanese patrolman, the entire concession heard the muffled sound. After that, he dug military assembly lines underground, set up booby traps in casinos, and upgraded the anti-Japanese guerrillas' guns from "ineffective" to "explosive tanks." But someone in the transnational espionage alliance secretly delivers information to Yamamoto; his most trusted assistant has a poisonous needle hidden in his sleeve. When the consuls of the major powers jointly put pressure on him to hand over the blueprints and find a way out, Jiang Yuheng tied the detonator to his severed limb. "My legs stayed in Liuhe Village. Today, I want your cannon to stay in Linhai City forever."
