1939, Cangyun Ridge.
A bullet hit his chest, two fingers away from his heart.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer the military technician.
He is Lu Tiezhu. Platoon leader of the Independent Regiment of the Eighth Route Army. He joined the army at the age of fourteen and traveled twenty-five thousand miles. He is the orphan of a martyr, and the old scars on his body are deeper than the new ones.
There is something more in my mind.
Kill enemies and earn points.
Points are exchanged for blueprints.
Sulfa. Reload bullets. Imitation firearms. Radio station. Smelting blast furnace.
Everything was not available in 1939.
Each one can save lives.
Others fight by capturing.
He fought wars and relied on industry.
There were thirty-seven people in the whole platoon, and each of them had less than ten rounds of ammunition.
He started with one reloadable bomb and built an entire arsenal.
From the shabby yard repair shop in the Taihang Valley to the roaring blast furnaces and assembly lines.
From platoon leader to marshal.
One step at a time.
Li Yunlong: "Damn it, I've never fought such a grand battle in my life!"
Zhao Gang: "I can't see through this person. But I believe in him."
Japanese intelligence officer Masao Watanabe: "He is not a soldier. He is something... More dangerous."
The first gunshot in Cangyun Ridge was just the beginning.
There is no retreat on this road——
There is only a fire that burns more and more, and a gun that gets harder and harder.
